Set Me Free (A Fugitive #2)(58)

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"Yes." Zach's voice broke. "My girlfriend's dying. She needs help right away."

"Can you tell me her injuries please sir."

Zach spotted the black gun resting in the bottom of the tub and closed his eyes.

"I think she's been shot. I just—I just got home and the bathroom's a mess, she's lying here with blood all over her and she's really pale..."

"What is your location please, sir?"

Sucking in a breath, Zach rattled off the details, hearing a faint clicking of keys as he did so.

"Where has she been shot?"

"In the stomach, I think." Zach knelt down beside her, gently lifting the blood soaked towel beneath her hand. She let out a soft groan, her eyelids fluttering as she whimpered.

His breath hitched as her blue eyes focused on him.

"Zach," she mouthed, a faint smile caressing her lips. She tried to reach for him, but her arms were too weak. He snaffled her hand in his, pressing the back of it to his cheek. Tears stung his eyes as he watched anxiety take over her gaze. He felt like his insides were being shredded.

"Sir?"

"Huh?" Zach focused, remembering that he had a phone pressed to his ear.

"Was she shot by someone one? If so, is the attacker still in the house?"

"Uh, yeah." He stole a glance over his shoulder. "But he's unconscious."

"Is he injured?"

"I think he might be dead. It would have been self-defense. This guy's been trying to kill her for years."

There was a pause.

Zach swallowed, realizing just how much could be read into that statement. He pressed his lips together, not willing to say more.

"Okay, sir, the police and ambulance are on their way, but I would like you to stay on the line please. If the attacker moves in anyway, you need to let me know."

Zach gripped the phone to his ear and nodded. Not that the operator could see that.

"How is your girlfriend now, sir? Are you applying pressure to the wound?"

"She already did that, but the towel is soaked in blood and she's lying in water that's quickly turning cold. What do I do?" Zach pulled in a shaky breath, hating how much his voice was quivering. "What do I do?"

She talked him through the best way to care for Lucy while he waited for the sound of sirens. Upon instruction, he gently carried her from the bathroom. Her cries of agony had him cutting the trip short and laying her flat as soon as he reached a dry patch of carpet. Blood soaked into the wool beneath them as he bent her legs up and pressed a fresh towel against the wound.

She let out another cry that made him want to pull back, the phone operator's firm insistence held him steady.

Pressing his forehead against Lucy's knee, he sniffed at his tears, working up the courage to follow yet another instruction and use his belt as a tourniquet.

"It'll hurt her too much," he mumbled.

"Sir, you want to save her life, don't you?"

With a huff, he got to his feet and charged into his room, yanking the belt from his pants that were on the floor. Rushing back to Lucy, he endured her begging tears as he shifted her body, securing the tourniquet tightly around the towel that had already turned red. He checked her back while he was doing it and informed the operator that there was a distinct hole, which probably meant the bullet had sliced straight through her. For some reason the operator thought this was a good thing, but she didn't explain why. Instead she sent him off to check on Tenner.

He popped his head into the bathroom, making sure the large man hadn't moved, then rushed back to Lucy, to rest his hand on her cool skin and freak out over how pale she was.

His limbs were quivering and it was an effort to keep the phone held to his ear.

"How much longer?" he whispered.

"They should be there any moment. Hang in there. You're doing great."

He closed his eyes, feeling anything but great. He felt useless and helpless as he watched the first girl he'd ever truly loved slip away from him.

A distant sound of sirens made him lurch from his spot. Tears that had been ready to fall evaporated as he pressed his lips against Lucy's forehead.

"They're here, baby. It's gonna be okay. They're here."

He thanked the operator and hung up as someone banged on the front door.

"This is the Danville Police!"

"Come in! We're upstairs! Help us!" Zach yelled.

The door flew open and footsteps thudded through the house. Zach was soon gazing up at two armed officers. Their expressions were grave as they took in the scene. The female officer studied Lucy's blue lips and gave him a sympathetic smile. Seconds later the EMTs pushed in, dumping their stuff next to Lucy and assessing her wounds. They spoked in garbled medical terms Zach didn't understand. He heard oxygen and IV mentioned before being escorted from the room by the female officer. She led him downstairs, gently seating him at the dining room table.

Zach kept his gaze on the door, not wanting to miss them bringing Lucy down. The officer kept pulling his attention back to him, quietly asking Zach questions in a smooth voice that soothed the soul. He stuttered his way through most of it, feeling shaky and ill-equipped for the task. He got a few details wrong, then had to shake his head and repeat himself.