Alex stumbled out of the boathouse, Laura limp in his arms, blood soaking through his shirt, through his skin, into his soul.
He dropped to his knees beside the SUV and fumbled for his phone.
No signal. One bar flickered: then vanished.
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
"Come on....come on....please...."
Nothing.
With a scream that tore his throat raw, he hurled the phone at the gravel.
It shattered into a hundred pieces, just like everything else.
He didn't care.
He scooped Laura up again: cradling her like something sacred and already broken: and carried her to the passenger side. Her blood painted the seat crimson as he laid her down, hands shaking so hard he could barely buckle the seatbelt around her.
Her head lolled against the window. Her breathing was shallow, too shallow.
Alex jumped behind the wheel, slammed the key in, and floored it.
The gravel road blurred past. His vision swam with tears.
"Please God," he whispered, voice cracking. "Don't take her. Take me. I'm the one who brought her here. I'm the one who let her go alone to the lake, I am the one...."
The engine died.
He coasted to a stop in the middle of nowhere.
Fuel gauge: E.
The realization hit him like a bullet between the eyes.
He'd driven six hours to this lake house in a haze of pure, stupid lust. He'd stopped for condoms, for whipped cream, for wine. But not once for gas.
Lina's voice, soft and trusting: "Take care of her, sweetie."
Mark's voice, proud: "Bring my daughter home safe, Alex."
Alex screamed again: a sound that wasn't human. He punched the steering wheel until his knuckles split and bled.
Then he unbuckled Laura, lifted her again: her blood hot against his chest: and started running.
Barefoot.
Gravel slicing his soles. Tears blinding him.
Every step was a prayer. "God....please....don't take her from me. I'll give anything. I'll give everything. Just let her live."
He burst out of the private road onto the main forest highway.
Empty.
No cars.
No help.
Just endless trees and the sound of his own ragged breathing and Laura's shallow, fading gasps.
He didn't stop. He ran toward the city, twenty-five miles away, carrying the girl he loved while she bled out in his arms.
His legs burned. His lungs were fire. His heart was already dead.
Then:
Horn shouted behind him. A car screeched to a halt.
A voice: "ALEX!"
He turned, sobbing.
Emma.
Emma threw the passenger door open. "Quickly: get in!"
Alex dove into the backseat with Laura, cradling her against his chest, blood smearing everything.
Emma floored it before the door even shut. "What happened?!"
"Fell: old stairs: wood went through her stomach: it's my fault: it's all my fault...."
"Keep pressure on it!" Emma's voice cracked but stayed steady. "Talk to her: don't let her close her eyes!"
Alex pressed both hands to the wound, blood pouring between his fingers. "Laura: baby: stay with me. Please. I love you. I love you I love you...."
Emma drove like a woman possessed, one hand on the wheel, the other dialing 911 on speaker, screaming their location.
Laura's fingers twitched against his chest, barely there. Her lips moved.
Alex leaned down.
"…love… you…"
Then her eyes fluttered shut.
Alex screamed her name into the silence.
Hospital (Four hours of hell later)
Alex was waiting, standing on the hallway with Mark, Lina and Emma. Alex called Mark and Lina from Emma's phone.
The doctor stepped out, mask down, face exhausted but calm. "She's out of surgery. The shard missed every major artery by millimeters. She lost a dangerous amount of blood, but we've stabilized her. She's going to make it."
Alex dropped to his knees in the hallway, a broken sob ripping out of him as his forehead hit the cold tile.
Lina was already crying into Mark's shoulder. Mark stood frozen, staring at the floor, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.
Relief lasted exactly ten minutes.
Mark's voice cut through the sterile air like a blade. "Alex. We need to talk. Now."
He walked to the far corner of the waiting room. Lina followed, face pale, hands shaking. Alex stood on legs that didn't feel like his own.
Mark didn't look at him at first.
His voice was quiet. Deadly. "Jess came to the house this morning. Right after we got home."
Alex's blood turned to ice.
Mark finally met his eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper that somehow hurt worse than shouting. "Tell me the truth, son. What is going on between you and my daughter?"