“Help,” I gasped, trying to reach for the person.
They grabbed my hand, squeezing so hard I wanted to cry out. A cold, rough palm slapped the side of my face, causing my head to rotate toward the lake. The same hand came back, pressing my cheek into the ground. I felt a pair of lips against my ear.
“You shouldn’t have changed your hair,” the voice growled. “I hope you die.”
I whimpered, struggling to get away.
My vision was going completely dark. I could barely move at all now. My breathing was so shallow I was seriously afraid each breath could be my last.
“This isn’t over,” the person spat, fingers digging into my cheek, and then the weight was gone.
The sound of pounding feet and the distant blare of a siren cut into my consciousness.
“Amnesia!” Eddie yelled, gently pulling my face up so he could look into my eyes. “It’s okay, baby,” he said, then moved back, lifting something and plunging it into my body.
Anaphylactic shock, the last thing on this planet I was expecting. Everything about this girl was a total surprise.
The second she started struggling to breathe, sheer adrenaline surged through my limbs. I barely had time to think. I had to react.
My legs pumped so fast they ached as I surged across the field toward the small shop near the general store. As I ran, I dialed the phone and screamed into it the second I heard someone pick up.
“I need an ambulance. Amnesia is going into anaphylactic shock. I need help. Now! Behind the general store, in the field,” I hollered and then shoved my phone in my pants without even ending the call.
People heard me yelling and stopped to stare. “I… need an Epi… Pen!” I yelled, hoping someone would hear. “An EpiPen!”
My heart was near bursting out of my chest. I wanted so badly to turn and look back, but I was afraid if I did, I’d lose my shit.
All I could think about was getting her help as fast as humanly possible.
Please don’t die. Please don’t leave me again.
One of the pharmacy employees came rushing out of the store, running toward me. My eyes zeroed in on his hand and what he was clutching.
“Throw it!” I yelled.
He did, and I dove at the medicine, snatching it out of the air and hitting the ground on my side. Upon impact, I bounced up and raced back toward her. She was still lying in the same place, not moving at all.
“I’m coming,” I yelled, my chest about to explode.
Her lips were turning blue when I dropped down beside her, turning her face to look down. Shit, she looked horrible. Welts covered her arms, neck, and face. Her lips were slightly puffy.
“Hang on, baby.” I urged, ripping open the EpiPen and jamming it into her thigh.
The second it was administered, I leaned over her, smoothing the hair away from her face, and I started to pray. Leaning my ear down beside her lips, I listened for the sound of her breath.
Almost instantly, she gasped, and I nearly fell back in relief.
“Thank fucking God.” I moaned and gathered her close to my chest.
I could hear the EMTs arriving and knew they’d be here within a minute. She was breathing now, each inhalation sounding like pure pain, but it was better than not breathing at all.
I held her out, looking down into her face.
“Eddie,” she wheezed.
“It’s okay, baby. You had an allergic reaction. It’s okay now. You’re going to be fine.”
Her body began to tremble, and I hunched closer around her, trying to give her my body heat.
“We need you to move back, Eddie,” one of the EMTs said.
I glanced over my shoulder and frowned. “She’s having trouble breathing.”
“We can help her,” the guy said. I’d gone to high school with him.
As they laid her out flat, her hand reached for me. I sat down nearby, holding her hand while the medics worked.
In no time, they had oxygen on her, her body strapped to a stretcher, and they were picking her up off the ground.
Suddenly, she began to struggle and cry. I heard her screaming something, but the mask on her face muffled her words.
“Whoa,” one of the guys said, and I rushed to her side.
“Am, I’m here,” I told her.
Tears streamed down her face. She blinked up at me, pleading, then struggled against the straps holding her down.
“Unhook her,” I said, flat.
“We can’t,” the man replied.
“Unhook her!” I yelled and started doing it myself.
“You can’t do that!” the man demanded, and I nearly busted him in the face.
“She’s freaking out about being tied down,” I explained. “Just unhook her.”
“She’ll fall off the board.”
I unfastened her anyway. The pressure of me moving around and her struggling tipped the board, and her body began to slide.
Everyone reacted, reaching for her.
I caught her, lifting her against my chest. “Fix the mask,” I said, and hands were suddenly there, making sure she was getting the oxygen she needed.
“This is against policy,” the man said as I started walking toward the ambulance.
“Sue me,” I growled.
At the back of the truck, I climbed in with her still in my arms and sat down. Her head rested against my chest, the brown of her eyes never once leaving my face.
“It’s okay.” I promised. “I’m coming with you to the hospital.”
She started to say something, her body tense. I shook my head. “Shh, it’s okay. Calm down.”
“Lay her down,” the guy said when he was in the back and the ambulance doors were closed.
Amnesia made a sound and clutched onto me. I pinned the EMT with a stare, and he sighed and sat back. “She needs monitoring.”
“Hook her up while I hold her,” I said.
“Good thing it’s a short trip to the ER,” he muttered.
I ignored him.
Her body was still trembling, the welts looked like she’d suffered some horrible beating, and my stomach rolled just seeing her in this condition. This was worse than the night I fished her out of the lake.
As the ambulance barreled toward the ER, I leaned against the side and let out a deep breath. Suddenly, I was spent, my body completely drained.
Thank God the pharmacy was that close. Thank God this town was small enough they could get to her in time.
Too many close calls with Amnesia. Too many ways to lose her.
I hadn’t been expecting this. Not at all…
It wasn’t just an allergic reaction. What just happened changed everything.
The official diagnosis: allergic to shellfish.
Unofficially: I was tired of almost dying.
The second Eddie carried me into the ER, a team of people surrounded me, some of them I recognized. I was swept away on a gurney, and Eddie was forcibly told to stay back while they stabilized my condition.
How was I supposed to feel stable when he wasn’t right beside me?
I’d been out of it; I still slightly was. My vision was going dark; my lungs refused to expand. My tongue felt as if it had grown about ten sizes, and my skin was on fire.
But someone tried to kill me. And I wasn’t talking about the lobster roll.