Lucas:
His mother was alive.
That was all that mattered.
Keeping her alive, that also mattered.
Then he saw it, the massive gash in her stomach that slowly dripped out blood splashing into the burnt leather and oozing onto the hot floor.
His breath jumped but he tried to calm himself.
He had to keep her alive.
He ripped the sleeves off his white blood-stained blouse tying them together before wrapping it around her waist and over the wound tightly to stop the bleeding.
His skin pricked as the blood continued to gush out turning the sleeves of his shirt a deep cruel red, so he tore the rest off his blouse off his bare skin at risk to the heat but he couldn't let himself feel it, he tucked the rag of his shirt under the sleeves pushing against the wound knowing there was nothing more he could do.
And without another thought he scoped his mother's legs up gently sliding his hand behind her kneck and lifting her, hustling her out of the car and running back through the fire.
His chest banged as the fire blazed past him.
Her flesh was still so hot against his despite it, Rough and tough, scratching his. He knew it was the blisters, the cuts and burns, but Lucas wished her skin was smooth and beautiful again, god she was beautiful.
But now, she hung in his arms, limp like a sack of flesh.
But through all of it, he had one thought that dragged him through the flames shining in his face.
I need to get her help.
The nearest police station was 80 miles away.
That's the one she was meant to go to.
If he could get her there, they would help her, they would save her.
And so there it was.
The police station.
The only thought that kept him company as he began to trudge through the snow.
He didn't dare look back when he heard another boom behind him, he couldn't bring himself to.
Though he knew he would never see his father again.
And the salt stung his scratched up face, dripping onto his mother's features, he hoped it didn't hurt her more but that thought was drowned out.
The police station.
And so his legs carried him, and his arms carried his mother. Gentle to keep her still while his feet thumped on the slippery cold floor.
He felt her warm blood trickle through his fingers, he wondered if she was feeling lighter but the thought was drowned out again.
The police station.
He was thankful for the cold, at least it didn't burn him, it turned his feet numb so he wouldn't have to feel the pain of each step, it turned his fingers numb so he wouldn't have to feel the broken pieces of his mother dripping onto the floor behind them. Leaving a beautiful trail of red rose petals. At least that's what he told himself with each step.
The police station.
And frozen flakes dropped on their skin.
The police station.
He didn't stop, not to check her pulse or catch his breath though it hung behind him.
The police station.
YOU ARE READING
Hitting on the hitman
Romance"If you so much as lay a single finger on Jess," Lucas warned in a breathless dry voice. "I'll break every fucking bone in your body and then." He laughed to himself. "I'll burn off the other side of your fucked up face," He whispered, chuckling in...
