Coyotes and Wolves, Milo Manheim Original Story

Not Leaving

POV: Estella

Doyle hadn't woken up. But he still could at any moment. Milo was passed out, but still breathing. His chest rising and falling, but it started to slow down to a degree that was making me hyperventilate.

Finally, I heard the commotion of the EMTs and Police, scrambling to figure out where to go. The sirens screaming, and the pounding of footsteps and radios communicating with one another. Then the mumbling and calling out of orders.

"In here! We're in here!" I cried, although my voice was shattered by my sobs.

They came barrelling through the small door to the back stage, and the first EMT paused-- briefly casing the scene before him, and then raced to Milo and me. He asked me if I was hurt, and I shook my head.

"Help him please! He..." I pointed to Doyle. "He stabbed him, in the leg. He..." I stammered through my hysterical tears.

More EMTs followed, and a Police Officer quickly came to my side and she told me to let go of Milo. I shook my head maniacally, refusing to leave him. I promised I wouldn't leave him.

"Please, Miss. They need room to work so they can help. Just step over here. Please?" She pleaded with me in an assertive tone.

I nodded reluctantly, and quickly voiced, "But, I'm not leaving him..."

She nodded in understanding and took me to the side. They wrapped me in another one of those damn metallic blankets, the ones they give you when you're in shock. Like a little cape to indicate that something terrible happened to you.

"Miss...I know you've been through quite a lot..." She began.

I chuckled, darkly.
"Yeah? You know what I've been through? You've been threatened by the same rapist twice, and then the bastard stabbed the man that you love?"

"Miss..." She sighed. "No, I can't imagine what you've experienced. But any information you could give us would be helpful."

"Why don't you check the records of the first time he did this to me!" I challenged, in a rageful tone. "And the bullshit sentence he got! Or how about the report that we filed a few weeks ago when he was stalking around my house, and no one could seem to locate him. He's a goddamn 18 year old high school student with a Juvie record! How the fuck did you fail to lock him up again?"

"Ma'am..." The Officer tried to calm me.

"Oh, it's Ma'am now? Yeah, now that you know how bad you guys fucked up! Again!" I seethed, before releasing a long sigh. "Again, his name is Doyle Ferguson. He's 18 years old. He was in Juvie for six months, after he raped me. My name is Estella Ortiz, age 18. He's been watching me, for-- I don't know how long. Recently my friend saw him outside of my house and the bastard left me flowers. Today he threatened me at knife point and tried to rape me, but my boyfriend Milo Manheim, age 18, tried to stop him and Doyle stabbed him."

"What happened to Doyle, that he's unconscious?" The Officer asked.

I rolled my eyes.
They were concerned about him?

I sighed again. "After he stabbed Milo, I attacked him. I punched him and he fell, then he hit his head, I think." I explained, in a flat tone.

"Your boyfriend, did he have any weapons?" She asked in a tone that I didn't care for.

"No. He's not a psycho!" I snapped.

"We'll need his parent's contact." The officer stated, ignoring my angry responses.

"No, you don't. Like I said, he's 18, and he doesn't talk to them. So don't bother." I explained, curtly.

"Where does he live?" She continued.

"With me and my parents." I answered, and then I gave them the address and contact numbers for them. "How's Milo? Is he okay? Is he awake? Can I go over to him now? Please?" I pleaded with her.

"No, Ma'am. They're still working to stabilize him, and will need to take him to hospital immediately." She expressed, as close to apologetically as she was going to get.

"Can I ride in the ambulance?" I asked, softly.

"No, but we'll take you to the hospital and you can see him after they evaluate his injuries. And you should get checked out as well." She answered, in a less than comforting tone.

"What about Doyle?" I voiced, warily.

"Ma'am, just relax for a few minutes and we'll escort you to the car." She dismissed, obviously not at liberty to discuss anymore.

"I want to call my mom." I expressed, in a flat tone.

"We're contacting your parents now." The officer replied.

I scoffed inpatiently and did the only thing I was allowed to. I sat there, waiting helplessly.

"Ma'am...I know this is difficult, but were you physically violated in this incident?" She asked, gently.

"No. Milo interrupted it. If he hadn't...I don't..." I trailed off. And the Officer nodded in understanding, and stepped away.

----

POV: Milo

Fuck those lights are bright! What the hell?

I scrunched up my face into a pained grimace, and tried to pry my eye lids open as they protested from the whiter than white overhead flourencent lighting. I looked down and I was covered in stiff white sheets and a scratchy cream colored blanket. I was cold, and I heard beeping all around me. I tried to sit up but the pinch in my arm snuck up on me, and I realized that I was attached to an IV, and various tubes.

Estella!

"Estella!" I tried to shout, but my voice came out in a dry rasp.

"Nurse!" I heard a loud nervous voice pipe up.

"Estella!" I tried again, this time getting even less volume than before.

"Sit back, don't move. Just try to calm down, mijo." I heard the same voice again.

"Mr. O.?" I breathed, my eye sight still jumbled by the bright lights.

"Yeah." Mr. O. nodded. "Oh, Milo." He sighed in relief.

"Estella?" I asked.

"She's fine." He expressed quickly. "She's getting looked over, but they don't think she has any physical injuries. Her mother is with her."

I nodded, in understanding.

"Doyle?" I pressed.

"We don't know. They won't say anything." He muttered, his hand forming into a fist at the sound of his name.

I laid back and shut my eyes for a moment, trying to remember exactly what happened. It was kind of a blur, like a bad fucking dream. I opened my eyes and looked over at Mr. O.

"How bad is it?" I asked, gesturing to my leg.

"Let's just wait for the nurse, I don't know anymore than you do." He insisted, in a comforting tone. "Do you need anything?"

"Just, my girl." I mumbled, and then looked up at him, remembering that I was speaking to her father. "Respectfully, Sir." I added, with a sad half-smile.

"It's okay, mijo." He chuckled, lowly. "I know how you feel about her. She'll be here as soon as she can."

He then looked down briefly, and then back up at me.

"What?" I asked, squinting at him.

"They called your parents." He expressed, carefully.

"Ugh." I groaned. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me!"

"Um..." He chided.

"Sorry..." I voiced apologetically, for my outburst.

"It's okay, I said the same thing when I found out." He expressed with a knowing smile.

And I couldn't help but laugh, which pulled at some of my stitches causing me to wince in pain.