“I’ll be okay as long as you’re here.” His hands rested on my hips.
“Don’t ever leave me.” I shook my head. “And don’t go crazy either because I wouldn’t be able to handle you all wrapped up in a padded room.”
He laughed and let go of my waist. “You’d leave me in there without any remorse, huh?”
“Yeah, your level of crazy is about all I can handle, any more, and I’ve got to hand the duty off to someone else,” I mocked seriousness. Rush stepped back, laughing, and strolled to the window behind our desks. His hands found their way to his back pockets as he looked outside.
I walked behind him and wove my arms through his and around his stomach, pressing myself greedily against him.
“He’ll be okay,” I said, trying to make myself believe it.
“Yeah,” Rush agreed, his enthusiasm diminished. I inhaled deeply, allowing the subtle fragrance of chestnut waft through my lungs. His body tensed, and I pulled my face away from him, looking out onto the scene Rush had been watching unfold.
Casey and two other Guards circled a frantic Beckett. His body was sweaty, shaking, but not with anger; he was scared.
I pulled my arms from Rush’s waist as he turned, his hand latched onto mine, and we ascended the stairs together. Rush threw the front door open, not bothering to close it behind us. Beckett was getting closer to the packhouse, stumbling and stammering words that were incoherent.
“Beckett,” I called cautiously. His eyes wavered, scanning over us and then up to the packhouse. “Beckett talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Luna, stay back,” one of the Guards ordered. She sidestepped Beckett as he lost his balance and stumbled towards her.
“Beckett!” Rush’s loud voice cut through, Beckett’s instinct was to listen to his Alpha, but it was like he didn’t even know who we were.
“Too soon,” Beckett mumbled, his tongue moving slower than necessary.
“Beckett look at me,” I urged softly, reaching my hand out. He stopped moving. “Beckett, it’s me, Sloane.”
He lifted his head and gulped. What I had mistaken as sweat on his face were tears, violently moving down his skin.
“Beckett, you must be so scared, but Maeve is going to get the antidote right now. Everything is going to be okay.”
He didn’t believe my words, shook his head, and wiped his cheeks. “No,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Beck,” Rush stepped forward, just behind me. “She’ll be back in a matter of hours. You will be fine.”
Beckett tried not to crumble. I moved closer, Beckett’s body now stationary. The guards and Rush all tensed and raised their hands to stop me, but I nodded firmly to them. Beckett’s head hung low, and he breathed heavier.
In some unknown part of my mind, I acknowledged his claws elongating and his body pulsing. It wasn’t enough to stop me.
“Hey,” I called, standing directly in front of me. His eyes closed, and his lips wobbled. “Just come with me, you can go lie down, and we’ll wait for Maeve to get back.”
“I can’t,” his broken voice erupted. His dark eyes fluttered open, and he stared back into mine, the edges of his iris’ pulsing bright green. “Sloane, please. I can’t.”
“Beckett,” I pleaded.
“Please, Sloane, forgive me,” he whispered. His eyes looked up, struggling to keep the tears out of his eyes. As I reached my hand toward him, his hand gripped my forearm and pulled me into his chest. His arm wrapped around my chest, keeping me flush against his body.
Rush growled loudly, only pausing when he looked down and saw the small knife Beckett had pulled from his back pocket.
“Beckett,” My voice was high, and it shook against my teeth. “Please don’t do this.”
He grunted and continued to breathe heavily, unable to catch his breath.
“Beckett, I swear to God if you don’t put the knife down,” Rush emptily yelled, begging Beckett with his eyes.
“Everyone, get back,” Beckett said quietly, though everyone heard him and obeyed.
“Beckett,” my chest quaked as I tried to breathe. “Please.”
“I can’t stop it, Sloane,” he panted, words choppy and hard.
“I know your instincts are telling you to attack, I know. But I’m not your enemy, Beckett, I’m trying to help you.”
“Remember how I told you I would die for this pack?” he stammered, the arm around me flexed. I nodded. “For you and for Rush,” he panted. “I can’t be the reason you die, trying to save me.”
His arm pushed me away from him roughly, and I fell ungraciously near Rush’s feet. Rush crouched down near me and placed his hand on my hip.
Beckett’s lips mouthed the words ‘forgive me’ as he lifted the blade to his chest and shoved it into his skin between his ribs. His eyes widened in pain, and he coughed a little. As he slumped over on the ground, the blade fell from his hand.
Casey rushed forward, bending over Beckett. His hands covered the wound, pressing firmly against it. Beckett’s eyes closed just as Casey tore his shirt off and pressed the fabric onto his chest.
“Get me a doctor!” Casey yelled, the strangled words barely making it past his lips. “He’s not dead, he missed his heart, get a doctor!”
The guard’s eyes glazed over as she contacted a doctor. Rush stepped over me and went to his friend’s side, helping Casey to pick him up and carry him in the house. I picked myself off the ground and followed blankly, my mind was far away.
The doctors arrived within minutes equipped with gauze, bandages, IV, and medicine. They transported him in a van to the medical building about ten minutes away.
Rush grabbed my hand and pulled me into his car, speeding after the ambulance. His hands shook around the steering wheel, white-knuckled, eyes never blinking.
“Rush,” I whispered. He didn’t move, he didn’t hear me. “Rush, are you okay?”
“No,” he said brokenly, his eyes and lips swelled a little, but no tears fell from his eyes.
“What can I do?”
“Just don’t leave.” His right hand let go
