Forgetting Naomi

Chapter Three

                                                                           TRENT 

 I saw her go down. 

"Naomi!" I ran to her, but Billy Hanson got there first. I shoved him aside. 

"Hey!" Billy yelped, falling back on his ass. I guess I'd pushed him hard, but I didn't care. The only thing on my mind was Naomi. 

Kneeling, I touched her face, bending to lift her head gently into my lap. "Naomi? Honey? Are you all right? Talk to me, please!" 

Fear hammered inside me like a steam engine, ready to consume me. She was so still. I wiped at the blood on her face. God, it covered her entire body! 

Frantic, I touched her body, feeling for injury. "Where the hell is she hurt?" I felt the growl burning inside me. I'd never been so damn scared in my life. 

I felt my cousin Bryce drop down across from her. "Shit!" he cursed, moving his hands to her legs. "Where'd all this blood come from?" 

"Don't know," I growled. 

"She's got to be cut pretty badly for this much blood." 

Naomi started squirming, making noises. "Hold still, baby," I crooned. "Just hold still. I got you." I heard my own voice crack, as I pushed her blood-encrusted hair from her forehead. 

"Call 9-1-1!" I shouted, clutching her to me, rocking her a little, muttering over-and-over beneath my breath that it was okay. It wasn't. Fear just about crippled me. 

Bryce bent down and sniffed her, then straightened. 

"What the hell?" he yelped, but I ignored him. 

"Where's the fucking ambulance!" I shouted to the crowd. Everyone stood around staring, but nobody was doing a damned thing to help her. 

"They're on their way!" I heard someone behind me yell back.  

Should I put her in my truck and drive her to the hospital? That would probably be faster than waiting for the ambulance. 

Bryce straightened and started laughing like a damn hyena.  

I glared at him. "What the hell's wrong with you?" 

He shook his head and stood. "It's ketchup, dude." 

Before I could question his sanity again, she stirred against me, then stiffened. "Let ... let me up. I'm okay...." 

"What?" I looked down at the deepest, blue eyes I'd ever known staring back up at me. Pain reflected in their depths, tearing at my gut. For a moment, my arms tightened around her. I wanted to slay the dragons that hurt her, beat down anything that caused her pain. She was hurt and in pain, with blood caked all over her. She wasn't mine anymore, but just because her feelings for me had changed, that didn't mean mine had. 

"It's not blood." Bryce laughed. "It's ketchup, Trent. Someone dumped a butt-load of ketchup on her. She probably just tripped and got the wind knocked out of her." 

My arms tightened around her just as she started struggling against me in earnest and the cloying smell of ketchup started to seep through the blinding panic that had filled my head since I'd seen her fall. 

"Let me up ... please!" 

Everyone around us started to laugh.  

"Cancel the 9-1-1 call," Bryce yelled, continuing to laugh himself, looking at me and shaking his head. "You got it bad, dude." 

Dazed, I lifted my hand and continued to stroke her cheek. Ketchup? "Who the hell would do this to her?" 

Bryce shook his head. "Who knows," he said as he rubbed his fingers on his jeans, leaving streaks of ketchup red on the faded denim. "Probably some fool stunt by either our cousin Ryan or that psychotic bitch Elle who has it in for him. Looks like Naomi is the latest innocent bystander to fall victim to one of their pranks against each other. Idiots." 

Just then Amy, Naomi's friend, scooted over. "Eww! You stink!" 

I gritted my teeth at the flush on Naomi's cheeks. Her eyes filled with tears and I felt another kick of panic. The worse day of my life in my mind. The last time I'd seen tears in her eyes, she'd dumped me.  Anger that she still had the ability to affect me that way, gave me the ability to let her go now. 

I stood, not even helping her get to her feet and feeling like a jerk because of it. I couldn't touch her again because it made me want more than I could ever have. I was going to run. I had to. I couldn't take the roller coaster emotions she stirred inside me. 

Just as I turned away, I heard her cry out. 

Her pain sliced through me worse than if someone had cut into me with a knife. I turned to her, unable not to help her. "What's wrong? Are you really hurt?" 

She grimaced, turning away her face, shaking her head. "I'm fine." 

"Don't be a wuss," her friend said in disgust. "It's her ankle. She probably twisted it." 

And there it was again. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had her in my arms, carrying her towards the house. Despite her protests. Despite the snickers from Bryce. And most of all, despite my own broken heart. 

I had Naomi in my fucking arms again.