Page 172 of Stick It
My pace quickens.
My heart slams against my ribs as I break into a sprint.
The door has been flung open, the voices louder now within. Familiar.
On the threshold, I falter, paralyzed by the sight before me.
Coach has Kyle pinned to the wall, forearm pressed to his throat, while Kyle thrashes and spits venom.
“She took everything!” he yells.
My brow furrows, my body so tense it could snap.
Time slows down as my gaze swivels to the tub. That’s when I see her. Lying face-down. Floating.
Something inside me breaks. Shatters.
“No,” I choke. I launch myself across the room. Water splashes everywhere as I jump into the tub, hauling her out with trembling arms.
She’s limp.
Too still.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Thundering footsteps sound behind me, the already open door slamming into the wall as the guys flood in. Pandemonium ensues. Griffin takes one look at Dylan, unconscious anddripping wet in my arms and barrels toward Kyle, roaring, “You fucking bastard!”
I don’t have time to watch whatever violence he invokes. Panicked and working on autopilot, I set Dylan on the ground. Water seeps into my T-shirt and soaks my knees. The last thing I notice before I lean over to pinch her nose and blow air into her mouth is Ethan, frozen in the middle of the room, his face white as a ghost.
“W-what do we do?” Finn asks in a trembling voice as he drops to the floor on Dylan’s other side. His hands shaking as they hover over her still form.
“Support her head,” I tell him as I move to do chest compressions. My own hands shake as I press against her sternum, once, twice, again. “C’mon, Menace,” I murmur, beg, then plead, “Breathe for me.”
Her skin is pale, lips tinged blue.
“Come back to us,” Finn whispers, leaning in to push her hair away from her face. “Please.” He presses a kiss to her temple, voice rougher, more demanding when he practically orders, “Don’t you dare leave us.”
“Why isn’t she breathing?” Griffin shouts, stomping over. Violence rolls off of him. I don’t dare look up from Dylan’s lifeless form, but I can see him pacing in my periphery. “If she dies—” His voice breaks over the word, and something inside me withers. No, she can’t fucking die. I push down harder on her sternum. “—I’m going to fucking kill you with my bare hands.”
He’s already marching back across the room toward Kyle. Ethan must have finally snapped himself out of his shock to intervene, as the next thing I hear is him barking at Griffin, “Sit your ass over there and call an ambulance. Now.”
I lose track of what happens next as Dylan shudders beneath me. She makes a choking, gasping, spluttering sound.
“Quick, get her on her side.” Together, Finn and I roll her. She jerks, water spewing from her lips and onto the tiled floor.
“That’s it,” I soothe, while Finn pushes her hair out of her face. Relief crashes through me, raw and sharp, as I rub circles on her back. “Get it all out.”
Finn practically sags in relief, the two of us sharing a look that says more than words ever could about how fucking close we just came to losing her. To losing the only woman headstrong enough to manage the four of us. How weneverwant to be in this situation again.
Once Dylan seems to have gotten the water out of her lungs, I shift to cradle her, holding her head in my lap as she gulps in air, each breath ragged and desperate.
“I got you,” I whisper, stroking her soaked hair. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
She trembles, tears streaming silently.
A drop of water lands on her cheek, and I realize I’m crying too.
I don’t even try to hide it as I curl forward, bringing my head as close to hers as I can and simply breathing in the feel of her in my arms. Hearing her ragged breath. Alive. She’s alive.
