I hoisted myself up, Sybil’s body was spread across the bed. She wasn’t moving, I couldn’t tell if she was breathing or even alive. Struggling to find my voice, I knew if I didn’t get Briggs to stop, he’d kill Dax.
“Briggs . . . Briggs . . . Key . . . Kean!” I bellowed, finally unhinging him from the aggressive trance he was under. It was as if he was in a brutal battle, killing his enemy before the fucker attempted to take him out. I knew war had scarred Kean Briggs, the inked stories buried just flesh deep attempting to cast out his demons told me everything . . . I just never saw how cruelly war had scarred his mind.
Key’s arm frozen in the air above his head. Blood saturated his once milk chocolate colored fist, his short black hair damp with sweat. When he looked at me I saw how toxic he was, his eyes were hollow and his expression filled with so much hate. It was as if he was someone I didn’t know. Someone who scared the living shit out of me. I lost my balance and stumbled as I attempted to stand up, instantly Briggs’ demeanor changed as if a switch clicked in his head and the man I knew finally showed up. He let go of Dax’s lifeless body.
“Rosie,” he breathed as he shuffled over to me.
“No, Key, Sybil . . . Sybil,” I huffed as I pointed to her motionless and sprawled across the bed.
I struggled to collect myself while Briggs rushed to her bedside. I watched as he dropped the side of his face against her lips, his large thick bloody fingers caught her wrist feeling for a pulse. His face melted into a fearless expression as urgency flooded his eyes.
“Call 911. Now!” he spat.
I froze.
His mouth crashed against her blue lips as he initiated CPR. Rhythmic breaths forced down Sybil’s throat, her lungs filling enough to make her chest expand before Briggs measured his large fist just between her breasts and began compressions in the attempt to jumpstart her heart. Sybil’s body still unresponsive except for the rebound of his patterned thrusts, I began to pray to the same god who never answered my prayers before.
“Please God, oh . . . please God, please God, please save Sybil. She’s the only person I have. She can’t die. Please don’t let her die!” I forced myself to stand, willed myself to be strong for my best friend. I stumbled and the moment swirled in my head, I pushed my hands up through my hair, holding it back off my face.
“Rose, 911!” Briggs demanded.
Clarity finally found its strong grip on me and I reached for my purse.
“Call from you’ landline.”
I snatched my home phone from the counter and dialed. One ring then they picked it up.
‘Dispatcher 233. 911 what’s your emergency?’
I took a deep breath and without any thought of who Sybil and I were or what we did to put food on the table words began to tumble from my mouth.
“My roommate, she’s been hurt,” I barked into the phone.
“All right, ma’am. Is she breathing?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled the phone from my ear. “Briggs, is she breathing?”
“No, tell them I’m doing CPR; have her pulse back to forty, but still unconscious and not breathing.” Briggs said in a stern, controlled voice.
“No, Briggs is doing CPR. She has a forty pulse. She’s unconscious, please just get someone here as fast as you can, please. Oh God Please.”
“An ambulance has been dispatched and is en route,” the 911 operator assured me.
“An ambulance is on the way,” I parroted.
“Rose, we’re going to need two transports,” Briggs said between breaths he forced down into Sybil’s lungs. His eyes darted to Dax, who was in an unconscious bloody heap.
“We need two ambulances.”
“Two?” the 911 operator questioned
“For the piece of shit who attacked her.”
“She was attacked?”
I didn’t hear her ask a question. My attention still on Sybil and Briggs.
“Rose, is that your name?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, was your friend attacked?”
“Yeah, by a pimp named Dax; he beat her unconscious,” I answered. I didn’t care if he bled out and we had one less wannabe pimps in this world. But the rational part of me knew if Dax died, then Briggs would be fucked.
“Ma’am . . . ma’am . . . Rose, your roommate’s attacker is there?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s unconscious?”
“Yes. Yes, he is still here, my friend came in and knocked him the fuck out.”
“Okay, I’ve alerted the authorities and dispatched another ambulance.”
I heard the siren build from a faint whine to a loud ear-piercing holler. I could see the lights reflect in the old rippled glass of my window. They must have been parked in front of my building.
“Rose . . . downstairs . . . now!” Briggs demanded between giving Sybil mouth to mouth.