Page 63 of Sparks of Insanity
Blaze suddenly halted, and spun on his heels to catch me before I reached Ethan.
“Fuck!”
“What? Let me get to him. He didn’t mean to, Blaze, he didn’t mean to!”
Blaze pushed me back, keeping a tight grip on my wrists.
“Stay here. Promise me you won’t follow me. Sit there on the bed. Em, do it right fucking now!” I could see the torment in hiseyes, so I obeyed, and he dropped down by Ethan, cursing under his breath.
“You stupid fucker,” he muttered, as he got back up.
“Em, go to the bathroom, get towels, and the first aid kit, and fucking hurry.”
I didn’t argue, because his voice told me it was a matter of life and death, and I didn’t need to see Ethan to know that. I could feel it. Like there was a chill in the room, like death was hovering right there.
When I returned with the kit, and the towels, Blaze was crouching in front of Ethan’s still body.
“Em, what you’re about to see is fucking awful, but I need you to do as I say if you want him to live.”
Oh god. I ran around the bed, and screamed when I saw all the blood. Ethan looked pale, his head tipped back against the wall, and Blaze was holding onto his wrists in a tight grip.
“Help me here. We need to patch this up, and then we need to get him to a hospital.”
“He… he tried to kill himself?”
“Obviously. Wrap your hand around here,” Blaze muttered, showing me how to hold Ethan’s wrist to staunch the blood flow, so he could patch one wrist up, and then the other.
He sent me to get dressed and bring something for him to put on Ethan, before he dragged the man I loved up onto his shoulder, still naked, and carried him to the stairs. I did as instructed, bringing some of the sweatpants and a t-shirt for Ethan, and we struggled to dress him as we put him in the back of Blaze’s car.
Oh my god. I sat with Ethan’s head on my lap, cradling it, stroking his face as I begged him to stay with me, begged him not to go like this. Apologising for everything I’d done to him. There was no way to make it up to him, was there? And no way he’dforgive me. I’d ruined his life, and driven him to suicide. I only hoped we could get him to a hospital in time to save his life.
After he was rushed into somewhere they wouldn’t let us follow, Blaze and I sat in a small room where they put family of patients, to wait for news.
“Tell me again what happened. You were barely making sense before, but I know what I saw. I know what I can see now,” Blaze said grimly, as he sat beside me. His clothes were covered in blood, but probably for the first time in his life, it was from trying to save someone, rather than killing them.
I voiced that observation, and he cursed out loud.
“Are you fucking serious right now? The last two times you tried this shit, who do you think found you? Huh? Who do you think was desperately trying to keep you alive, until we could do what we just did? You wonder how I knew what to do? Fucking practice. Jesus, Em!” I had no idea, because the times I’d tried what Ethan just attempted, I’d been unaware of what happened when whoever found me, and I’d never asked.
How selfish of me to put my family through this, because now I was seeing it from their side, and it was agony. More so, because I knew I was literally to blame for what he’d done.
“Em,” Blaze practically growled at me, because I was stalling of course.
“We had an argument,” I finally said, and Blaze slammed his fist against the wooden arm of the chair he was in.
“For fuck’s sake! You have marks on your throat where he tried to fucking strangle you! You have swollen eyes from crying, I’m guessing, and there are bruises on your wrists. Did he fucking rape you?”
Did he? Or did he just do what I’d encouraged him to do.
“It’s not like that. I pushed him to it.”
“Rape is rape, Em,” Blaze muttered, rolling his eyes. “Listen to me. What a fucking hypocrite.Jesus. When did you ink him? It looked new.”
I was chewing on my fingernails, remembering how furious he’d been when he woke up tattooed like that.
“Last night, and this morning.”
“Pretty graphic stuff, Em. He told you to do that?”
