Page 72 of Six
“Call Raph, tell him to go. ASAP,” Rami instructs her.
“We are coming, Ollie. Just stay with Rague. Keep his head steady, and if he stops breathing, do mouth to mouth. Can you?”
“I can. I did it before to one of my father’s girls who overdosed. It didn’t save her though.” My voice chokes at the end. The memory of her pale face and unmoving lifeless body is still vivid in my head. What if the same happens again? What if I can’t save him? I can’t lose Rague. I just can’t.
“I can as well,” my brother replies, taking my hand and squeezing it in his, his eyes searching mine with concern when I turn to look in his direction. “I’m Sully.”
“You’re Ollie’s brother,” Rami says. “Fuck, how many people are there?”
“Dead ones included? Seven,” Lori’s dark humor is not helping the situation.
More swearing comes out the other side of the phone line.
“Cut it out, Lori.” He opens his mouth like he might verbally lay into me, but then shakes his head.
“Serena, we need to start the cleanup protocol.” I hear Rami, and then the same woman’s voice replying.
“Is he still shaking?” Gabe inquires. He sounds so toneless. Is it an act for our sake? How can he be so calm?
“Yes, and it doesn’t seem to be lessening. It’s been five minutes already,” Sully answers. More saliva is trailing down the side of Rague’s mouth, and I wipe it away with my knuckles.
“Michael will give him a sedative as soon as he gets there. He’s three minutes away. The convulsions usually come back until we sedate him.”
As soon as he’s finished talking the seizures start up again. His body, arms, and legs flex, extend, contract, and tremor for endless minutes. I feel so fucking useless. A scary, desperate feeling creeps into my chest, making my lungs feel too small. How can I help him?How?
Rague’s body turns stiff and then the involuntary small twitches start again.
While Rami talks, I lie down on the floor on my side and push my body and face as close as I can to Rague. I hope he can feel that someone is here. That he’s not alone. Just like I wasn’t when he took care of me. I remember him singing to me and how much he likes it. He said it gives him peace. I start humming near his ear. I don’t know if he can hear me, but doing something for him soothes the waves of anxiety that keep trying to drown me.
The notes soon find a melody, and I’m softly singing Pink’s “Love Me Anyway,” realizing while the words leave my lips, that it’s true. I love Rague. The attentive, possessive, rough, obsessed man and also the pained, angry, lost beast. I love all of him. No matter what. And I’ll help him any way I can if he lets me.
“What is that?” I hear Rami ask.
“It’s Ollie, singing very badly to him,” Lori replies.
“Michael and Raph are there. We will be in ten.” Rami hangs up.
“God!” Just as Rami said, Michael and Raph suddenly appear on the threshold.
Michael hurriedly moves near Rague’s twitching body. He opens a rectangular bag and pulls out a syringe. Removing the cap, he pushes up Rague’s sleeve and injects the sedative in his arm. He slides the syringe back in the bag and grabs Rague’s hand to check his pulse. The tattoo on Rague’s wrist catches my eye again. Because now that I can see it clearly, I know that’s not a tattoo, but a brand. The number six was burned into his skin.
A few seconds pass, and all his tense muscles quickly relax before my eyes. He finally calms down.
“Turn him gently on his side. It will help him breathe.” Lori and I follow Michael’s instructions as soon as Sully removes the pillow case, and Michael makes sure that the wound on Rague’s leg doesn’t bleed anymore.
“His heartbeat is strong. He’s breathing easily. He’ll be fine.”
As I register Michael’s words, the dam breaks, and I feel tears running down my face. My nails dig deep into my thighs through the fabric of my jeans, and I start sobbing. A huge boulder has been lifted from my chest, and all the fear filling it flies away. I feel so fucking relieved. Lori and Sully quickly envelop me in a group hug that makes me cry even more.
“Fuck.” After a minute, they let me go, and I dry my teary cheeks on my sleeve, sniffing a couple of times more.
“Are you all okay? Any wounds you need me to check?” Michael flicks his gaze among us, pausing on Sully’s bruised face and my split lip. But we shake our heads.
“I’m Michael, and that’s my fiancé, Raph, Rague’s brother. You must be Sully.”
My brother nods shyly. His eyes are red. Did he cry, too?
“And you?”
