Chapter 157 Stay with me
Ryder's POV
The sirens pierced the night air like screams, growing louder as emergency vehicles flooded onto the property. Red and blue lights painted the blood-soaked backyard in flashing colors that made everything look like a nightmare I could not wake up from.
Paramedics swarmed the yard, their voices sharp and professional as they worked on the wounded scattered across the grass. I counted at least eight people down, maybe more. Some were moving and groaning in pain. Others were completely still.
"We need another stretcher over here!" someone shouted.
"This one's critical! Move, move, move!"
I stayed with Tommy, my hand pressed against the makeshift bandage I assumed one of Diego's men had wrapped around his chest. His face was pale just like Jaxon and his breathing was shallow and uneven. He looked terrible and in serious pain.
"You're going to be okay," I told him, even though I had no idea if that was true. "Just hang on, Tommy. Help is here."
His eyes fluttered open for a second and found mine. "Ryder..."
"Don't talk. Save your energy." My voice cracked and I hated how helpless I sounded. I pressed harder against the bandage. "You hear me? Don't waste it."
His hand moved weakly against the grass, searching, and I grabbed it and held it.
Two paramedics rushed over with a stretcher. They moved fast, professional and efficient, cutting away the bandage to assess the wound. One of them rattled off vital signs I did not understand while the other started an IV line.
"GSW to the upper chest," the first paramedic said. "Possible pneumothorax. We need to move him now."
"Is he going to be alright?" I asked.
Neither of them answered me. They were already loading him onto the stretcher.
They carried Tommy toward the waiting ambulance and I followed without being asked, staying close enough that they would have had to physically remove me to keep me back. Behind me, I could hear more paramedics working on other people, their voices just as urgent, the same terrible rhythm of controlled panic.
"Let's go, let's go!"
I climbed into the back of the ambulance with Tommy. The paramedic did not try to stop me, which told me more about how bad this was than any words could have.
Through the back door that was still open, I caught a glimpse of Sage about to climb into another ambulance. Jaxon was already wheeled inside, blood covering so much of him that I could not tell where he was wounded. Diego was right behind Sage, helping her up, one hand steady at her back.
For one brief moment as she turned around, Sage's eyes met mine across the chaos. Even from that distance I could see the fear and desperation written all over her face. I wanted to call out to her. I wanted to tell her I loved her and promise her that everything would be okay and that we were going to get through the other side of this night together.
But the words stuck in my throat and even if I got them out, the noise around was too much. The ambulance doors slammed shut between us, cutting off whatever I might have said.
My ambulance pulled away first, heading in the opposite direction. I watched through the small window as Sage's ambulance started moving too, making a U-turn and following up behind mine.
"Sir, I need you to sit down and buckle in," the paramedic said, his hands moving quickly over Tommy's chest.
I sat on the narrow bench seat and fastened the belt with shaking hands. Tommy's eyes were closed now, his face gray in the harsh overhead light.
"Is he going to make it?" I asked.
"We're doing everything we can." The paramedic pressed an oxygen mask over Tommy's face and adjusted the flow. "What's his name?"
"Tommy. Tommy Kane. He's my brother."
"Okay, Tommy. Stay with us, buddy. We're almost there."
The ambulance swerved around a corner and I grabbed the rail to steady myself. The sirens were deafening this close, filling the space and making it impossible to hold onto any thought for more than a second.
I watched the paramedic work, checking monitors, adjusting equipment, talking into his radio in medical codes I did not understand. Every movement was precise and practiced, like he had done this a thousand times before and intended to do it a thousand more.
Tommy's breathing sounded bad. It was wet and labored, like he was drowning, like he was breathing water instead of air.
"Decreased breath sounds on the left side," the paramedic said into his radio. "Requesting trauma team on arrival."
My hands were still covered in blood. Tommy's blood. Dante's blood. Maybe some of my own, I could not tell anymore. I wiped them on my jeans but the stains would not come off. I stared at them like they belonged to someone else.
I thought about Sage in the other ambulance, probably holding Jaxon's hand the same way I wanted to hold Tommy's. I thought about how we had been standing together just minutes ago, fighting for our lives side by side. I thought about how I had told her I loved her and how she had said it back. And now we were being pulled in opposite directions, racing toward the same hospital but separated by everything that had just happened on this terrible night.
The paramedic's hands stilled for a second. He looked at the monitor and then down at Tommy, and something in his expression changed as I started hearing an endless beep on the monitor.
"Tommy?" He shook Tommy's shoulder. "Tommy, can you hear me?"
No response.
The paramedic pressed two fingers against Tommy's neck, checking for a pulse. His face went tight.
"Driver, go faster!" he shouted toward the front of the ambulance.
I felt my stomach drop. "What's happening? What's wrong?"
The paramedic did not answer me. He was too busy tilting Tommy's head back and checking his airway.
"Come on, Tommy. Stay with me." He positioned his hands on Tommy's chest, ready to start compressions.
That is when I realized Tommy's chest was not moving anymore. He was not breathing.
My brother had stopped breathing.