It All Started With Hate

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"The practice of love offers no place of safety. We risk loss, hurt, pain. We risk being acted up on by forces outside our control." — Bell Hooks
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Chapter 89
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Luke

Maggie was shot.

The very realization hit me as hard as she did when she saw the bullet coming for me.

The one that she took.

Through the shock, the only thing that I could muster was, "Maggie..."

Something heavy settled in my stomach, like the heaviest anchor of all time was stuck inside. My skin would have gone cold had the warm blood not hit it.

Maggie's blood.

My gaze raised at the same time that she stumbled back. Her hands went to her stomach, where the blood was dressing through the white of her tank top.

Her eyes raised to mine. Just as they lowered to her stomach, again, her body wavered from under her.

Before she could hit the ground, I caught her and gently lowered the both of us to the floor so that I was kneeling to her side. "Maggie, hey," my voice trembled as I placed the gun down to get to her.

Her emerald eyes found mine, the shock making them brighter. "I'm shot." My head bobbed until I thought the limb tore from my body. "You are, but it doesn't matter, because you're going to be okay."

"I'm shot," she repeated in a murmur, but I barely heard it past the drum of my heartbeat in my ears. Her voice sounded shocked. Sad. Scared.

It terrified me.

I met her eyes and pretended otherwise."It'll be a story we laugh about later on, won't it be?"

I needed to stop the bleeding.

Through shaky hands, I grabbed the material of my shirt to tear it off, then did the same to her tank as gentle as I could.

When I saw the wound, my heart dropped.

She was losing too much blood. Way too much blood.

The only good I found was that the blood was dark, not bright. The bullet hadn't hit a major artery, but it didn't lessen the weight in my heart.

I didn't know if the bullet was still inside or if it went straight through. All I knew was that she was losing too much fucking blood.

"Luke," I heard Maggie whisper out. When I looked at her, I saw her taking notice of the blood and having the realization that I wouldn't dare let become reality. "I-I don't think I'll have a later—"

"Don't say that, Maggie." My voice was hard, despite the tremble of my throat.

Think. Fucking think, Luke.

I couldn't get her to the car like this. There was too much of a chance that moving her would only increase the blood loss, even with my speeding to the hospital. There were too many possibilities that could take her away from me, and I wouldn't risk—

Fuck. Okay. The ambulance is on the way.

I needed to put pressure on the wound.

With the piece from my shirt, I pressed that, as well as my hands to her stomach until the skin wallowed from under them.

At her sharp, painful gasp, guilt hit me in the stomach. I wanted to beat my own ass for causing it.

"I know, baby, I know," I whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "I know it hurts; I'm sorry. I have to keep pressure on it."