If You Were Ours

Chapter Seventy Six - Kinsley/Tyson

 Kinsley ~

We were nearly to the hospital when Dane's pulse became so weak that I couldn't feel it anymore.

No, please no.

"Tyson, I can't feel his pulse. I can't feel it!"  I yelled hysterically. 

Tyson and Lucas hung their heads and refused to watch as I frantically climbed on top of Dane and started manually pumping his chest with tears streaming down my face.

The men around me had seen injuries like Dane's before and knew the outcome, but I rejected the idea completely and refused to accept it. Dane couldn't die. Not here, not like this. I wouldn't allow it.

The muscles in my arms burned as I threw every ounce of my strength and body weight against Dane, sobbing and pleading with him to hold on just a little longer as we pulled up to the hospital.

"Kinsley, baby, let us carry him inside." Tyson said, pulling at my arm. It was obvious that he had accepted Dane's fate but I hadn't. Not by a long shot.

"Don't touch me! You go get those doctors and tell them to come out here and get him because I'm not stopping." I snapped at Tyson who did exactly as I instructed.

Before I could react every door of the vehicle flew open and an emergency medical team took over the compressions, ignoring me completely as they exchanged medical information that I didn't understand.

They moved with a sense of urgency that both worried me and gave me hope.

If he was a lost cause and already dead they wouldn't be rushing right?

I watched helplessly alongside Tyson as they wheeled our lifeless Dane into the hospital, but just as they crossed the threshold into the emergency room I heard one of the nurses call out.

"I've got a pulse."

The words slammed into my ears, stealing the air from my lungs and Tyson dropped down to one knee in disbelief.

He's still alive. He's still fighting.

We hurried into the waiting room and I paced the halls, trying to keep my mind occupied while Tyson answered call after call. From what I could gather, Tyson had instructed his men to pay off the detective on scene to make it seem like there had been only one shooter and that he had been killed in the firefight so they wouldn't go looking for Angelo's brother. I could only imagine what Tyson's men were doing to Angelo's brother in the basement at home, but I heard Tyson give strict instructions to keep him alive and breathing until he arrived.

I sat in a chair, feeling a dull ache radiate from one side of my body, the side that had hit the ground when bullets started flying. The throbbing pain registered, but I didn't fully feel it...I didn't feel anything but fear at the moment.

My leg shook and bounced nervously as we waited for hours in the waiting area. Every second that passed was a blessing and a curse all wrapped into one. I was thrilled that the surgeon hadn't come out to deliver bad news, but I was coming out of my skin with worry that it was taking so long.

Tyson's massive frame appeared in my peripheral vision as he towered over me, holding out a soaked paper towel while he was between calls.

"I'm fine." I mumbled, turning away from the gesture.

Tyson crouched down in front of me so that he was eye level and pushed some hair out of my face that had come loose.

"You've got blood all over the side of your face baby." Tyson said softly in a gentle tone that I wasn't accustomed to.