Page 60 of Traces of Her
Thirty-Seven
GRIFFIN
TIRES SQUEAL BEHIND ME as Jared whips the van away, speeding away in the opposite direction.
“Motherfucker,” I growl as I walk over to crouch beside my father. “Robert?” I ask, shaking his shoulder. He groans in response, clutching at his abdomen. Quickly, I peel off my coat and ball it up, pressing it against the wound on his stomach.
“Fuck me,” he groans through clenched teeth.
Fuck you is right, you worthless piece of shit.
“Don’t be such a fucking pussy,” I bark at him, pulling my phone from my pocket and hastily dial 911. Bringing it up to my face, I stare out across the yard as it rings, unable to focus on everything going on at once right now.
“I need an ambulance ASAP,” I say urgently to the operator. “My dad has been shot and my sister has multiple injuries.” I quickly recite the address and end the call as the woman assures me someone will be there soon.
An engine roars as a car rips into the driveway, the tires squealing as it comes to a halt. Ryder jumps out of the car, leaving the door wide open and the engine still running.
“Where the fuck were you?” I yell at him, quickly scrambling to my feet as he rushes over, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene laid out in front of him.
Shaking his head, he runs his hands through his hair. “They slashed my fucking tires. I had to jack a car,” he explains with an apologetic tone. “Lydia,” he says, dropping down to the ground beside her, pulling her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
He looks up at me, his eyes bewildered. “What the fuck happened here?” I shake my head, staring at him blankly. He knows what the fuck happened here.
“Fucking Jared.” Ryder drives his fist into the ground. “Is he okay?” He nods toward Robert’s still body.
I shrug. “Fucker finally stopped groaning. He’s passed out right now, his body went in shock. He’s lost a lot of blood so far and if the ambulance doesn’t get here soon, he won’t be either.”
Ryder glances down at Lydia in his arms and looks back at me with a frightful questioning look. I know exactly what he’s afraid to ask.
“We won’t know until she gets to the hospital,” I say quietly. It’s bad. It’s worse than anyone had expected.
Ryder nods, giving me a knowing look as Lydia visibly grows too relaxed in his arms and panic fills his eyes as he leans down in her face, lightly shaking her.
“Lydia,” his voice cracks. “Stay awake, baby.”
Fuck.
Her eyes flutter as she tries to focus on his face. “I just need to take a nap,” she says, her voice barely audible. “I’ll be good after that.”
My stomach drops as I frantically glance around, hearing sirens in the distance. We’re slowly losing her.
Lydia’s eyes fall shut as Ryder starts shaking her harder. “Come on,” he urges, the desperation weighs heavy in his voice. “It’s not nap time, not now.”
A small smile forms on her face, one that’s reserved just for him. I fight the urge to shove him out of the way, to grab her and run toward the nearing ambulance.
Lydia’s lips move, speaking words only Ryder can hear. Her breathing has swiftly slowed, each one a small gasp.
My jaw clenches as I stand helplessly, watching the tears fall from Ryder’s eyes, mixing with the blood covering them both.
“Stop it,” he says, shaking her, his voice cracking.
Flashing lights appear from the corner of my eye. Spinning toward the road, an ambulance barrels toward us, the tires squeal as it comes to an abrupt stop. Two men jump out, one with a large bag in hand as the other rips open the back doors to retrieve the stretcher.
“Where is she?” the older man yells, running up to me with his medic bag. I open my mouth, turning back toward Lydia when Ryder’s voice overpowers my words.
“No, dammit!” he yells. “You’re not sorry! Do you hear me? You. Are. Not. Sorry.” His hands cup her face as he sobs, yelling at her frantically as his tears continue to fall.
Everything happens so quickly as the hands on the clock stand still.