We rushed from Miles’ house to Scarlett’s apartment, the rain still crashing down onto the asphalt. When we get to her Bellezza Nera, she fumbles for her car keys, and I rush over to her side of the car. Her hands are shaking, her outfit is completely soaked, and her hair has fallen out completely of the bun it was in a few hours ago.
I place my hand over her shaking hands. “Scar,” I press, and she looks up at me. God, I want to kiss her again. Her eyes are huge, a little frightened, but there’s still that look of — as she describes it — something. “I’m going to drive, okay?”
She nods once. Twice. She swallows before opening her hand and letting me retrieve the key. “Just don’t crash my car.”
“I’m going to keep you safe, Angel. Don’t worry,” I say, trying to be comforting, but she throws her hands up, exasperated.
“Of course, I’m going to worry, Branson. My uncle is a possible attempted murderer. I still don’t know how much I can trust him right now. He might be leading us into a trap,” she rambles. “Just get us there so I can talk to him. Got it?”
I nod and she turns around, walking to the other side of the car as she slips into her seat. When I’m settled behind the steering wheel, I want to tell her that it’s going to be okay. I want to promise her that we’re going to be fine. But the words don’t come. Because how can I promise something I’m not sure is true?
She doesn’t speak the whole drive down to Provo, which is a long fucking time. She taps her nails anxiously onto the window. Gio has some information, we’re going to meet him to get it. It should be that simple. But for whatever reason, we’re both running on fumes, scared and a little terrified. I want – no, I need – to be brave for her.
We ended up in an alleyway similar to the one we were hiding in when we staked out the jewellery store. God, how different things are now. Then, she couldn’t even look at me without seeming like she was about to throw up. Now, she’s fucking moaned into my mouth multiple times.
“Did he say where to meet him?” I ask when I’ve parked. She turns to me, her face drier than it was before, but her hair still sticks to her forehead. It’s still raining outside, so she’s bound to get it messed up again. I want to brush it out of her face, cradle her head in my hands and kiss her on the forehead. But I don’t do any of that. Instead, I tilt my head a little, noticing she’s probably in her own world. “Scarlett?”
“Hm?” She looks me in the eye then before shaking her head a little. “Yes. He said that we should wait in the car, and he’ll call us over. He thinks someone is following him.”
“Shit,” I mutter. “Should I have been checking while we drove? I’m so out of it, Scar. Everything’s a fucking mess right now.”
“Hey,” she says, cutting me off. “It’s fine. I wasn’t just looking out the window lifelessly. I checked. We’re okay.”
I turn my head back in front of me and lean my head onto the headrest. So much for being the brave one because I’m freaking out. I still need to speak to her about the real reason behind why I wanted to help her with the project as an opportunity to find out more about her family. As much as I’m going to regret it afterwards, I’d much rather keep her safe and have her hate me later than let her do this on her own.
I open my eyes, tilting my head towards my window and across the street from where we’re parked, a man with long-ish hair and a messy beard stands with his hood up. This street is dodgy as it is and I don’t like the idea of us, especially at this time of day.
The sun has only just set, so the sky is painted a deep blue, littered with rain clouds. I’m sure that guy is her uncle, but I nudge Scarlett, urging her to look in my direction, just to make sure.
“That’s him,” she says, unclipping her seatbelt. I start to unclip mine. “You stay here. He probably wants to talk in the restaurant.”
“Scarlett, if anything happens – and I mean, anything – let me know, okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “How? Do you want me to scream or tell you telepathically?”
“Scarlett,” I press. ‘This isn’t a joke.’
“I can handle myself, Branson.”
She nods and with that, she slips out of the car, rounding it to my side where she stands, giving me a thumbs up. She’s suddenly too relaxed. I don’t like it. She grins at me like this is such a normal thing. Unless she knows deep down that her uncle is a safe person to be around.
The thought of anything happening to her is too terrifying to risk not being protective right now. I know she’s strong. I know she’s resilient. I know she’s brave, but there’s a part of me that feels the need to be near her all the time, making sure she doesn’t get hurt.
That’s why my heart almost falls out my chest as she walks towards the sidewalk, and she trips over her shoelaces.
Immediately, I open the door, my heart pounding as I try to get to her. She didn’t fall into the road, thank goodness. But it was close. Too close. Cars still whizz past, no one stopping to check if she’s okay.
“You okay?” I pant when I get to her, clasping my hand over her elbow. She turns to me, and I can tell she’s pissed at me for not staying put.
“I’m fine, Branson. Jesus. Do you listen to anything I tell you?” She argues, bending down to tie her shoes. I sigh, knowing that she’s fine and I look back up across the road to where her uncle was standing.
Gio must have had the same thought to help Scarlett as she tripped over. A black car with frosted windows speeds down the street and I hear a crunch. A snap. I flinch.
It takes me a few seconds to register the screech of tires, the gasp that escapes my throat and the body on the floor. My heartbeat is all I hear as the rest of the world goes quiet.
Scarlett starts to stand, and my first instinct is to turn her around to face me, so her back is to the scene. I swear I throw up in my mouth a little, but I force myself to swallow. I’m being the brave one.
It’s still raining – a little lighter now – but there’s so much blood. Too much blood. It’s pooling out of his head, but I have to keep Scarlett as calm as possible. I have to keep her safe. She can’t see that. I tighten my grip on her shoulder, my nails digging into her.
It’s only been a matter of seconds, but it feels like it’s been hours.
“What the hell is going on, Branson?” she asks, oblivious. I swallow, looking down at her. I try to get the words out, but they don’t come. How are you supposed to tell someone that their uncle just got brutally hit by a car and is not standing up? Scarlett could easily turn her head to see, but I think she knows. “Did you hear that car? I swear some people don’t know how to drive. Nobody got hit, did they?” She rambles and I nod.
She nods back, her eyes twitching. Her mouth forms into a slight frown at my silence and her eyebrows soften a little. “It was Gio, wasn’t it?”
I watch the exact moment she tries to turn around, but I tighten my grip on her shoulders and crash her into my chest, holding her there. She doesn’t need to see it. She can hear the gasps of onlookers, yet no one is fucking doing anything. I feel her starting to cry against my chest as I keep my eyes on the top of her head, unable to look at the scene.
It feels like a part of me is being ripped out of me as she cries. The sound comes straight from the back of her throat. Not like the way she cried at the museum. This is the sound of pure agony.
“I need to see him,” she sobs, trying to turn around again.
“Hey, look at me,” I demand, gripping onto her shoulders, my hands finding their way back to her face, holding tight. She blinks up at me, more and more tears streaming down her face. “Angel, I promise you, you don’t want to see him yet.”
She’s crying harder now. “He’s my family,’ she cries, trying to turn again but I grip onto her face, firmly urging her not to turn her head. She’s sobbing, holding onto my forearms, trying to get me to pull them away from her, but I don’t. She’s strong, but I’m stronger. “Let go of me,” she groans.
“Listen to me,” I say, my voice wavering. “Go to the car. Stand outside the passenger side and sit on the floor. Don’t turn around until I’ve got him out of the road, and I’ll bring him to you. Use my phone and call nine-one-one and ask for an ambulance. Tell them there’s been a hit and run. Can you do that for me?”
She nods her head so hard I’m sure she almost goes dizzy. She’s still trying to pry my hands from her face, but she has no luck. This is not the time for her to be stubborn. Can she not see that I’m trying to protect her? That I don’t want her to see what I can.
“Scarlett, you need to talk to me,” I urge. She’s practically gasping for air now, her chest heaving. “Tell me that you can do that.”
“I can do that,” she says through a cry. I pull my phone from my back pocket and put it into her hands, clasping my hand around it to make sure she’s got a hold of it. Her hands are shaking too much. I wipe the tears that have fallen down her face only for more to fall. I can’t help it, so I press her to my chest again and kiss her on the forehead as she stands lifelessly in my arms. She pulls away from me and she walks back towards the car.
I hope for both of our sakes she doesn’t turn back.
A few cars have started diverting his body, yet no one tries to get out and help him. I walk over to him, my shoes squelching in the rain. I’m not good with blood. Not at all. But Scarlett would not be able to handle this. Not when he’s this hurt and in the middle of the road. When I get closer, I notice the huge gash at the side of his face as his whole body trembles. I shudder.
“Can somebody help me get him out of the road!?” I shout to anyone. For anyone to help. Nobody responds. It’s even quieter now. Only the sound of the rain and the gurgling coming from Gio. How could someone do this? Just hit someone and speed off. And more importantly, why?
I hold my breath as I slip my hand under his neck, feeling the soft flesh there. The whole right side of his face is covered in blood from where he landed. His leg is twisted outwards, and his mouth is full of blood, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Gio? It’s Evan. Can you feel anything?” I ask, patting down his arms and across his torso. It’s faint and weak, but he shakes his head. I take off my shirt with one hand. It’s already soaked through but, I need to do something to stop the blood coming out of his head. I wring it out, folding it over four times before pressing it to his head. I ease him off my lap to undo my belt, wrapping around the side of his face. I know it looks painful, but it’s the best I can do.
“I’m going to take you out of the road and get an ambulance so stay with me, okay?”
His mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to speak but nothing comes out. He coughs, tilting his head away from me as he spits blood onto the street. I close my eyes for a second, trying my best to be brave.
“She’s behind the car. She’s safe. We’re going to get you help, okay?” I try my best to seem convincing as I try to stand. I try to look around the empty street, hoping someone will appear. I see a middle-aged man closing down a florist and I sigh. “Hey! I need some help over here!”
He turns around and his face drops. We don’t have time for this. I know how bad this looks. I can smell how bad this is. I don’t need someone who’s going to throw up or scream. If Scarlett hears anyone else’s reaction, she’s going to freak out even more. We need to get Gio somewhere that isn’t in the middle of the road, and he needs medical attention as soon as possible.
“Jesus, what happened?” the guy asks, rushing over. He’s dressed in a puffer jacket, and he immediately zips it down, pulling it off. He stops still, looking down at us and I glare. Now is not the time for questions, bud. “Nevermind. Where are you trying to go?”
I tilt my head towards the alleyway where Scarlett’s parked. Jheez, I hope she’s okay. “You see that car there?” I ask. The guy nods. “Just help me get him there and then stay on lookout for an ambulance. One should be coming soon.”
The guy doesn’t say anything as he helps me get Gio to his feet. He’s not really walking as much, as he’s hovering as we use our strength to keep him up. I feel bad that I’ve dragged him into the middle of this, but there was no way I’d be able to drag him across the street on my own. Gio’s head lolls to the side as we take each of his arms over our shoulders. This is bad. Like really really bad.
We manage to get him to the side of the car that Scarlett isn’t on and he’s groaning now. At least there’s a sign he’s still with us. What the fuck do I do now? The guy drops his coat over Gio, trying his best to keep him warm. I would thank him if I could think properly, but I can’t. The guy kneels beside me, trying to look at Gio’s face, but there’s not much to look at anymore. It’s covered in blood.
“You’re doing everything you can, kid,” the guy says, patting me on the shoulder. If I had the energy in me, I’d tell him to do something more. Say something other than that. Gio’s head wobbles in my lap and I pull my knees in, trying to elevate his head. The guy points down to the end of the alleyway where the rain is slowing. “I’ll wait there for the ambulance.”
I close my eyes for a second, leaning my head against the brick wall, trying to breathe. Trying to be strong. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I told my dad the minute something puts us in danger, I’m out.
“Ev… Your shirt…” I hear her mumble. I look up and Scarlett’s standing over us, staring right at her uncle’s weak body. She’s not sobbing anymore, which is good. She’s had time to calm herself down. She’s gasping, though, holding her hand to her chest. My once white shirt is still wrapped around his head, soaked through with blood. I ignore her, pressing my shirt onto the side of his head.
I don’t think I’m doing enough.
“Didn’t I tell you to wait by the side of the car?” I ask, frustrated. She gulps, not responding. “How long until the ambulance comes?”
“Any minute now,” she whispers. She kneels down, trying to look at him, but I can tell it’s paining her. Fuck, she’s going to have nightmares about this for weeks. I know I will. I tried to protect her from that as much as I could. She presses her hands to the side of his neck. “Have you checked his pulse? My hands are still shaking.”
I gently move her hands away from him, placing them in her lap. Instead, I press two fingers onto his wrist, and it takes a while for me to feel something. “It’s weak, Scar.”
“Are you sure you’re doing it right?” she asks, gently pulling his arm into her lap and she tries to feel for it. She probably comes to the same realisation that I do. “No. No. No. He’s not gone yet. He can’t be.”
“Scarlett,” I say quietly. That’s all I can say. I gently try to pry her hands off of him, but she won’t budge. She must have realised what I did. He’s not got long left.
“No, Evan,” she shouts at me. “No,” she says again, quieter. She pulls Gio’s face into her hands and I have to look away, not able to stomach the large gash at the side of his head, but I still press my shirt to it. “Come on, G. Stay with me, okay? I can’t lose you too. Stay with me. Please.”
She tries to wipe the blood out of his face, but I can tell that part of it disgusts her. I silently tell her to stop. I clasp both of her hands in mine, holding them tight as she cries hard on my shoulder. I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“I’m here, Angel. I’m here,” I whisper over and over again until three heartbeats slowly fade to two.
