Page 117 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
Zach’s hands shift.
“Jackson...”
Something in his voice makes my stomach drop.
“What?” I say immediately. “What is it?”
Her chest doesn’t move.
I stare at it.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting... Nothing.
“She’s not breathing.”
The words land and for a second I don’t understand them.
My brain refuses to process them properly, like if I don’t fully take them in, they won’t be real.
“What?” I say, because it’s the only thing I can say.
Zach looks up at me then, and there’s something in his face I haven’t seen before.
Fear.
Real fear.
“She’s not breathing,” he repeats, sharper now. “We need to move her. Now.”
“No,” I say immediately, shaking my head, because that can’t be right, that can’t be happening, not now, not like this. “No, she.... she just...she just needs a second.”
“Jackson.”
The way he says my name stops me.
“Help me.”
Everything in me freezes for a split second.
Then moves.
“Okay, okay, what do you need?”
“Take the pressure,” he says, already shifting, already pulling his hands away from the wound. “Hard. Don’t let it up.”
My hands replace his before I can think about it, pressing down into the soaked fabric, and the second I do I feel how much blood is still there, how warm it is, how wrong it feels under my palms.
“Fuck...” I choke, my stomach twisting hard.
“Don’t look at it,” Zach snaps, already repositioning himself, already moving over her. “Just press.”
I nod, even though he isn’t looking at me.
“Okay. Okay.”
