That was another reason I needed Dante back. With him gone, I had no one to direct my sarcasm towards, and it sucked being on the receiving end of it.
“Rachel?” Vienna snapped, bringing my attention back to the present. “You need to get Doc in here, now!” He hissed at me.
Vienna laid Shark down on the messy bed and placed his palms over the wound to stop the blood flow. I tried not to flinch as it dawned on me how much evidence they were now ruining.
Get a fucking grip, Rachel. They’re not going to be bringing the police here, are they?
Excellent point. Well made.
Blood seeped from underneath Vienna’s hands, and he swore under his breath, pushing down even harder, his eyes sad as he apologised to his wounded brother.
I looked at Shark, his face growing paler by the second, and I snapped to my senses. We’d figure out a plan later. We had to make sure Shark survived this.
“Rachel!” Vienna snapped again, his face a blanket of rage.
“Right. Sorry. Where would he be?”
“Garage,” he snapped, throwing me a filthy look.
“I’m on it.”
“Get Mama whilst you’re out there. And Crash. Crash needs to be here.”
“I’ll get everyone,” I promised, my legs finally coming to life. Vienna gave me a quick nod before his attention went back to his brother.
I left the room, barrelling down the hallway as though my sleep paralysis demon was giving chase.
Why wasn’t everyone here already? Surely, they could sense something was wrong?
How had we all been so fucking blind to an upcoming attack that we hadn’t even noticed Macbeth removing a goddamn window frame?
Because there were just too many people frequenting this place, that’s why.
At all times, there were always at least a dozen people flittering about here, there, and everywhere. I had lost count of the number of times someone would waltz in with a can of paint, ready to touch up one area, or a hammer to hang something Mama had requested. This house was a labour of love, reflecting the passage of time they all shared, and everyone pitched in. No one would think anything of Macbeth walking around with a tool kit.
But in Dante’s room?!
Another wave of nausea hit as it dawned on me that I had been the perfect distraction. Whilst Dante was so focused on us and had been spending so much time in my room, it hadn’t occurred to him to bother checking the state of his own. Especially when I had burnt his clothes, leaving the entire room smelling like smoke. Dante had rarely spent a night in there since.
I flew down the stairs, my heart in my throat, my imagination running wild. All I could see once again was Dante being hurt. It was impossible to imagine that big, strong, dangerous man coming to any harm, and yet it was impossible to think of anything else.
Would his thoughts be of me? Would he regret wasting his time with me if he knew how close to the end he was?
Stop it, Rachel! He’s not going to fucking die!
But there was a fucking chance! Unlike me, he hadn’t been kidnapped to play babysitter to a child that wasn’t his. Macbeth wasn’t planning a cosy tea party for two.
There was no fear of the unknown, because we all knew exactly how this could end.
I jumped the last few steps, my vision blurring as stupid, useless tears came to my eyes. I furiously wiped them away, not seeing the small figure emerge in front of me, until the soft “whoa” came from them, and two hands reached out to steady me.
“What’s the hurry, Rachel? What’s happened?” I heard the voice of my mother, her face coming into focus.
This is all I fucking need!
“I need Crash,” was all I could say, wiping away more useless tears. What good were tears? They couldn’t solve anything! I had to get a grip on my emotions. Emotions made you weak, and that was the one thing I could not afford to be right now. There would be time for weakness when this was all said and done.
“Who is Crash? Honestly, there’s no need for all these silly names. It would be much easier if you just—”
