The Test of Time

106 ~ Month Thirty One: June

"Sav!" Brett panics, his eyes roaming the length of my body as he searches for a wound, Becky instantly crouching down beside me with terror in her eyes, Ellis resting his hand on Brett's shoulder. Noticing the cops running over out of the corner of my eye I reach up and run my hand down the length of Brett's face, smiling reassuringly at him. It's all I want to look at, to see him alive and safe, those gorgeous captivating eyes on mine.

"Savannah?" Becky says softly, her voice cracking.

"Where did it hit you?" Brett asks quickly, his hands moving over my torso, relief evident in his eyes as he doesn't appear to find any wound. "Is it your back?" He panics once more, attempting to lift me up slightly.

"Brett, calm down." Ellis says softly, lowering himself down, "If you move her too much you might make it worse."

"We need some help!" Brett retorts, glaring at his best friend.

"I know."

"Brett..." I manage to get out, his face eyes immediately back on mine, "I'm sorry." I sob slightly, the full extent of the cataclysmic evening hitting me all at once. Brett's life just imploded before his eyes, his entire world has been ripped apart by no other than his own flesh and blood.

"You have nothing to apologize for!" He replies, his voice low as he shakes his head, "Don't you dare!"

"Y-you didn't deserve this."

"Nor did you." Brett points out, shaking his head, eyes slightly watery as he continues to hold me against his chest.

"She's been shot!" Ellis suddenly yells to the handful of cops that finally surround us, springing into action.

"I love you." I smile up at Brett, exhaustion taking over, an unknown weakness filling my body, draining me of any energy that I had left.

"I love you too."

"Are you okay?" A female officer asks, kneeling beside us as Becky lets out another sob.

"I think she's been shot!" Ellis replies, his hand still on Brett's shoulder as they all crowd around me, the woman quickly analyzing my body for blood. Brett's jaw is tense as he watches them, his hands tightening around me. I can't even imagine what he must be thinking right now. His Father did this.

His Dad has always been a dick, but this goes well beyond the realms of that, bordering more along the lines of psychotic. 

"It's hit her leg." the cop concludes, quickly calling for one of her colleagues.

"Thank God," Becky breathes out, sinking down onto the ground beside me.

"It was George." I exclaim, "Brett's Dad!" Have they got him? Did they make sure he didn't escape? Are we really safe this time?

"We know Sav." Becky reassures, "It's okay! He's dead."

"H-he is?"

"We had no choice after he shot at you." one of the cops explains as they grab my leg, tying something around as Brett stares at it, his expression pained. George is dead? He's actually gone?

"Let me see!" I struggle against Brett's arms, attempting to see around the wall of people. I have to see him, I have to lay eyes on his disgusting body to know that he's really gone!

"Sav!" Brett orders, my eyes moving back to him, "Let them do their job." He nods at the officers who continue with my leg as I fall back against Brett's chest.

"He only shot once." the female cop smiles, "Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"No." I reply. It's true. I feel numb to everything, my bloodied hands still clutching at Brett, having made a wonderful abstract painting on the white shirt.