Chapter 11: Hope

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**(Note: This chapter contains blood and profanity)**



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Peter
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My foot banged against the sturdy door to the apartment on the second floor of the Foundry. "Reese! Wyatt!" I yelled urgently, kicking the door over and over. "Open the fucking door right now!"

The sound of hurried footsteps behind the door reached my ears. To my relief, the door opened, only for a gun to be shoved into my face. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I stared down the barrel of a Glock 19.

"What the hell do you want?" Reese demanded. He immediately froze, his gaze landing on Lauren's unconscious body in my arms. "Oh, shit—"

I shoved past him, not giving a damn if he shot me.

Whitt and Josiah were reclining on the grey sectional, the blond's headphones over his ears while Josiah has a book in one hand. The two glanced up at us, their mouth's consecutively dropping open before Whitt quickly shucked his headphones off.

Josiah jumped to his feet and hustled across the room, his dark brow retreating into his hairline. "What the hell happened?"

"No time," I grunted, racing over to the couch. Carefully, I set Lauren down on the plush surface, tilting his head towards me. His face was so pale it was almost white, his skin cold against my fingertips. I turned to Reese, who stood anchored by the doorway. "Where's your doctor?"

Reese stood there unmoving, his eyes glued to Lauren's face.

"Reese!" Whitt snapped, shooting the tall man a fierce glare. "Dammit, go get Malik!"

Blinking rapidly, Reese secured the handgun in his pants. "Right, I'll be right back!" He yelled over his shoulder as he took off running out of the room.

I sat next to Lauren, my body thrumming with turmoil as my hands hovered uselessly over him. I had no idea what I needed to do to help him while we waited for the doctor to arrive. Lauren had seemed like he'd had all the answers when it came to taking care of my injury. I felt powerless as I watched him inhale hoarse, shallow breaths through his blood-smeared lips.

I can't lose him.

The thought gave me physical pain, as though a knife had pierced through my heart. Had I ever felt such acute dread before in my entire life?

I'd always been worried about how other people saw me. All I had wanted was for my parents to see me as their perfect golden boy.

Meaningless bullshit.

God, everything that I'd worked for my entire life meant nothing in the face of losing him.

"I'm here," I leaned in close to him, taking his hand in mine. My thumb smoothed over the cool skin of his palm as I recalled his plea for me not to abandon him. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Just hold on, Laurie."

His slim fingers were like ice, so frail in my hand that I worried if I held on too tight, he'd shatter like glass. I softly brushed his hair back from his face, a ball of fear lodging in my throat. What more could I do besides hold his hand and will him to keep breathing?

Josiah stood quietly behind me, his eyes hard as he placed his hand on my shoulder. I wanted to shake it off, but that meant possibly letting go of Lauren's hand.

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