Dog Days: Book One

23

"Dad." The words came as a whisper from her chapped lips. Her eyes felt heavy from all the crying she had done earlier. She wasn't ready to lose him. She had just gotten him back.

Dante sat beside the bed, watching over her father. "Dante, do you mind if I have a moment alone with my father?"

"Of course, Arryn. Whatever you need." He stood, giving her father a parting glance before walking towards the exit. "Let me know if you need anything. Jonathan meant a lot to me. This shouldn't have happened to him."

Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in Dante's words. She had cried enough already, but the tears still came. Irritation came from her eyes as she wiped the droplets away.

"Thank you," she said.

His hand found her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll be downstairs."

She turned her attention towards her father as Dante's footfalls left the room; the sound of the door shutting behind him. She was alone with her dying father. The only sound that filled the empty room was the ragged breaths her father took.

The beige comforter covered his body to the waist. His bare skin still lay exposed; a blood-soaked bandage covered his chest wound.

"Dad," she said, sitting where Dante had. "Please don't leave me. I need you. I'm still praying. I know mom would be happy to hear that. It's so hard. Nothing has gone right and I'm just trying to figure out the plan. You were always so good at guiding me when I had my doubts. Why is this happening?" Her fingers clasped around his. They felt cold.

Who did this to you?

Every breath was a struggle. Each exhale left a gaping hole in her stomach. The fear that any breath could be his last raced through her mind.

Bruises. Where did the bruises come from? Maybe he hit his face when he fell on the ground.

"How did this happen," she wondered aloud. Curiosity led her hand up towards his face. She trailed his jawline, fingers skimming the sharp prickle of his stubble. The swollen skin shone a deep shade of purple in the moonlight.

A hand shot upwards wrapping tightly around her wrist. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she looked down at her father. His eyes were still swollen shut.

"Dad? You're awake!" Arryn exclaimed. "I'll go get Doctor Martin!"

His grip tightened around her wrist. He brought her hand down towards the bed. Placing his fist in her palm, his fingers made rapid movements.

She scrunched her eyebrows together, trying to piece together what her father was doing. The motions seemed familiar. It almost seemed like...

Sign language!

The lessons the sign team at her church had conducted popped into her mind. It had been a few months since her last practice and the quick motions of her father's fingers made her feel a little rusty.

She focused on the movements of his fingers. She missed a few letters at the beginning but figured she may be able to make them out.

R
U
S
T
D 
A
N
T
E

His cold fingers settled on her palm. He was done and she needed to piece together the parts of the puzzle he had given her. Her eyes flickered back and forth as the information processed in her mind.

"Rust Dante?" she muttered under her breath. Hearing the words aloud revealed the answer hiding under her nose. "Trust Dante! You want me to trust Dante? But..." she trailed off as her breath hitched in her throat. "Is this some kind of passing the torch because I'm not going to be around kind of speech? Please don't. Dad I don't want to let you go."

He started making letters again, but before he could form one, his fingers fell limp against her skin. Her eyes shot to his chest. His swollen lips parted, inhaling a large breath.

"Dad?" Her voice trembled.

His chest rose as air filled his lungs. With a low moan, he exhaled; his chest falling as the air escaped his body.

He didn't take another breath.

"No! Dad, please!" She shouted, leaning over and shaking him. His head bobbled lifelessly with her rough shakes. Lacing her fingers together, she placed the bottom of her palm over her father's chest and began pumping. Her arm ached as sweat trickled down her forehead.

After thirty reps, she lifted her father's head back and pinched his nose, giving him the breath of life.

He didn't respond.

She began the reps again. Tears mixed with the sweat, running off her chin onto her father's chest.

The bedroom door opened in a hurry. Dr. Martin, along with Dante, stood in the doorway in a momentary daze at the scene before them. Snapping out of her daze, Dr. Martin ran forward. She ripped the stethoscope off from around her neck.

"Arryn," she whispered. Her hand rested on Arryn's, which were still pumping furiously against her father's rib cage.

Arryn stopped. Her father's lifeless body rested beneath her. The sight of him churned her stomach. "Oh, God." Her hands clasped over her mouth as sobs shook her body.

Dante steadied her as grief washed over her. Dr. Martin has placed her stethoscope over his chest, listening closely. A few seconds passed and Arryn stared at her, dreading the words that would pass Dr. Martin's lips.

"He's gone. Arryn, I'm so sorry."

Arryn crumpled to the floor. Dante's strong arms wrapped around her in a comforting embrace. He patted her back as she cried into her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Arryn. I got you."