Filed To Story: Secret Shifters Next Door Series PDF Free
My head snapped up, my eyes wide with panic. Tate stood in the door, his clothes spattered with blood and the fists at his sides clamped so tight, his knuckles were white.
“We need help!”
A heavy boulder settled in my stomach. The look on his face was one of intense fear and horror.
April leaped to her feet. “Tate?”
Tate spun and saw April and me. His already-pale face went nearly gray as his eyes fell on me.
Doctors and nurses ran toward him. Behind Tate, Jared burst through the doors, Miles cradled in his arms. Miles, awake but hurt, was holding his leg and wincing. A belt was tied tightly around his thigh. Another wound oozed blood at his shoulder.
“Tate?” April called out, her voice brittle. “Where’s Steff?”
As an answer, Steff exploded through the doors. His face was red and blotchy, eyes bloodshot. Blayne lay limp over his shoulder. His arms and legs dangled like a marionette with its strings cut. My jaw dropped when I saw the bright red patch of blood on his shirt and the dark little hole right below his collarbone. As bad as that looked, the most horrifying thing was the knife buried in his side, the handle bobbing as Steff carried him.
“Please, God!” Steff screamed. “Help him! My brother! Help my brother!” He sounded like he was on the verge of madness.
I stood jerkily, my feet numb as I walked toward the scene. Nurses were calling for help, alarms were going off, orderlies were running with gurneys. Shouts, screams, and blood. So much blood.
My legs took me toward them. Steff’s eyes, searching the room frantically for help, saw me then. His look of shock gave way to sorrow, then his face crumpled. “Jesus Christ! Fuck! Tate! Get her out of here. Don’t let her see.”
Tate’s massive arms wrapped around me, his broad chest obscuring my sight of the scene. I let him push me away for a few seconds, then the dam that had been holding my emotions back shattered. I slammed my fists into Tate’s meaty chest. My small fists were ineffective against the giant of a man.
“Let me see him! Let me see him!”
“Ava, honey, no. You don’t want to see that.”
I hauled my arm back and slapped him, tears streaming down my face. The madness of grief consumed me over. “Why didn’t you protect him? Where were you? What were you doing?” I bellowed into his face as I slapped him again and again.
Tears sprang to his eyes and he shook his head in confusion. “I…we tried…it happened fast. He…he saved Steff’s life. II’m sorry.”
From behind Tate, a nurse called out. “Move! I lost the pulse. He’s coding. Get him back to the trauma room. Hurry.”
Tate turned to see them wheeling Blayne down the hallway. I was able to catch a glimpse of him as he went by. Blayne’s face was the color of wet ashes, his eyes half-open, only the whites showing. A small female nurse was straddling him as he rolled by, frantically pounding his chest.
I had a flashback of Liam lying on my floor, his face slowly going slack as his life bled away. Blayne looked exactly like his brother had all those years ago.
As the gurney vanished around the corner, what little strength I had left vanished. All that was left was sorrow and an agony so deep I didn’t know if I could ever come back from it. The two men I loved more than anything in the world were dying.
I slid to the ground, slipping from Tate’s grip. I bit into the skin on my hand as tears streamed down my cheeks. Then I
screamed. A long wailing screech that sounded like I’d already lost both of them.
Five days. The hardest five days of my entire life. Dad and Blayne had been fighting for their lives for almost a week.
I was sitting beside Dad’s bed, holding his hand while he slept. He’d finally been released from critical care the day before and I’d been allowed to visit him. I was sitting there, crying. I didn’t know how I had any tears left. It seemed like that was all I’d done for the last week.
As bad as Dad had been injured, Blayne’s injuries were more severe. His heart had stopped four times. The knife had punctured his intestines and clipped his liver. The bullet had hit a major artery in his chest. He’d lost seven pints of blood. The doctors seemed almost confused, not understanding how he had survived. Tate and Steff had told me it was probably due to his being a shifter. They didn’t heal like superheroes in comics, but they did heal faster than humans and were much harder to kill.
Still, it was touch and go. They couldn’t give us an estimate on when or even
if he would wake up. He was in the ICU, intubated and in a medically induced coma so his body could recover.
Miles had already been discharged. His leg wound hadn’t been serious. The shoulder injury had been superficial, but he did have a concussion. He’d been knocked out when he’d fallen from the gunshots. He would be fine.
I was happy, but also a little bitter. Why couldn’t Blayne be fine, too? Why did this have to happen?
The sound of my father’s heart monitor sped up. I looked over at his face and saw he was awake—awake for the first time since he’d been admitted. He looked tired, but also sad.
I stood and faced him. I wanted to hide my sadness, but he was my father. Who else could I be honest with?
“Baby girl? Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice still weak.
I lost it. Tears and sobs burst out of me, and I leaned down to rest my head on his shoulder. I told him how scared I was that he was going to die.
He ran a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Taking his hand in mine, I kissed his knuckles. “You came back. That’s all that matters. You came back to me. You didn’t leave me by myself.”