The rest follow, with Ryan pulling Alex away from the monster who created her. I’m so focused on Ryan falling to the ground, Alex in his arms, bloody and screaming out in pain, that I don’t see what’s happening with Carlo. Our boys got him, though.
Ryan Stone, one of the meanest assholes I’ve ever met, screams out, with tears falling down his face. He rips his shirt and uses the torn material in his hand to cover Alex’s wound. He sobs loudly, unapologetically, as he holds the only woman aside from this mother that he’s ever given a shit about in his arms, unable to make her pain go away. “I’m sorry,” he chants again and again as he falls apart. Alex kicks at the ground as she helps Ryan hold the shirt over her wound. It’s going to scar. The cut was way too deep. My heart hurts for her, but there’s nothing I can do there.
Slowly, I approach the crowd that’s gathered where Jim tackled Carlo. Men are slowly standing up and backing off. Wyatt’s eyes leave the men on the ground and raise to mine. Unshed tears fill his eyes, and my stomach drops. His face contorts into something unrecognizable as he stares at me. I manage to rip my eyes away from him long enough to see what’s going on.
On the ground, Jim is doubled over. He has his hand on his stomach, doing his best to cover what I can only assume is a knife wound. Dark-red liquid seeps out from beneath his fingers, covering his hand in his own blood. Michael stands to the side, holding Ruby against his chest, her head firmly shoved into his pecs. When she breaks away, she spins around and eyes her husband on the ground. Leo and Duke grab at Carlo, who is now either unconscious or dead, and pull him away. Ruby runs to Jim and pulls him up against her chest. He screams out from the movement, his shaking hand no longer able to stop the bleeding from the side of his stomach. I can’t make sense of it. We’re wearing bulletproof vests. That should have protected us. But judging by the way Jim’s holding his wound, Carlo got him at the exact right angle and was able to get under his vest rather than through.
“Come on, baby. You’re fine. You have to be fine,” Ruby cries into Jim’s head. She rocks back and forth, cradling him to her like a protective lioness.
Jim slowly blinks up at her, and he gives her a weak smile. He tries to laugh at her words, but he can’t. His face is ashen, and even with Ruby’s hand on his wound, it’s still seeping blood. He smarts, saying, “Just a flesh wound, Mama.”
And in that moment, we’re all propelled into action. The men coordinate how best to get both Jim and Alex to a hospital. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it seeps through that nobody’s worried about Bear, which means we lost him. I fight back the tears, deciding now’s not the time to mourn my old man’s brother. Everything moves so fast and so slow at the same time. It’s like I’m watching it in a movie. I do my best to go through the motions of getting everyone moving, but the look on Wyatt’s face tells me it’s more than a flesh wound. I shake my head, my eyes trained on him. Slowly, gravely, my old man nods. He’s wrong. He has to be.
“No,” Ian says. It feels more like a whisper, but it’s loud enough for all of us to hear it. He’s the only one not moving, remaining stock-still. His eyes volley between his adopted father and his half sister. He looks like he’s about to be sick. “It can’t end like this.”
The End