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Van brings the car to a slow stop, and as we get out, what I see ahead has my stomach in knots. The truck the whore stole has crashed into the roadside barrier, and both she and Hopper are looking down into the ravine.
Where the fuck is Cian?
Van runs to Harper’s side, catching her as she stumbles backward.
Ronan is on his phone.
Hopper makes eye contact with me, shaking his head while he looks over the fucking metal barrier.
I don’t wait—I run.
Ronan tries to grab me, but I shrug out of his grip and jump the barrier.
My boots hit the loose rubble, sending me skidding down the incline. I smack hard into a tree, stopping my downward momentum.
FUCK!
Looking around where the rocky ground is lit in the moonlight, I locate Cian a few feet down the slope. He isn’t moving. If he dies, I don’t give a fuck how much they love the stupid whore, I will slit her throat right in front of them.
Carefully moving from my spot, I use the trees and bushes to break my descent until I reach him. I fall to my knees and move my hands to his neck, feeling for his heartbeat.
“He has a pulse,” I yell, hoping someone can hear me. “Cian, don’t you dare fucking die on me!”
I don’t know what to check first—there is blood everywhere—and for the first time my hands tremble at the sight.
Cian has never looked so fragile or broken in his life.
The longer I sit beside my best friend, the more the blinding rage builds under my skin.
“Coming down!”
I look up and see a team with ropes descending the side of the steep incline. When they reach me, I refuse to move.
“Cian, can you hear me?” the man says in a deep, stern-sounding voice.
Cian doesn’t respond, and a second man checks Cian’s pulse, spitting off stats.
“Let’s get him on the backboard. We need you to move aside so we can do our job.”
My hands ball into fists. I breathe deeply in through my nose and out through my mouth. I can’t kill them; they are just trying to help my best friend.
Ropes are carefully attached to the board, and the men maneuver Cian’s unconscious body up the cliffside. I follow them up and jump back over the metal barrier. Ronan is stoic, but I see the worry creased in his brow. Van has the whore wrapped tight in his arms as she sobs against him.
“So help me, god,” I say in a low voice as I approach them. “If he doesn’t?—”
I can’t finish the sentence before my throat closes. She levels me with a stare, cold enough to send shivers down my spine. I don’t see the fist coming for my face until it’s too late, and her petite hand connects with my cheekbone.
“Fuck you!” she spits out.
Stepping closer to her, Van growls a warning at me from low in his chest. Fine, I get it. He will throw a lifetime of friendship away over some bitch. Well, fuck them all.
I stalk off and push my way into the ambulance, and one of the paramedics points to where I need to sit.
“We’ll meet you at the hospital,” Ronan says as the doors of the vehicle close.
Clasping Cian’s hand like it’s my lifeline as the paramedics monitors stats, I ignore the strangers and look down at my best friend.
“If you wake up, I’ll let you suck my dick,” I whisper and chuckle to myself. It was worth a shot.
