My head whips right. I look past a crowd standing in front of the venue and see her.

Riley struggles in Richard’s grasp. His hands are gripping onto her arms as he tries to move her further down the sidewalk. He’s shoving her. He’s making it so she has no choice but to go with him.

Fuck that. She has a choice.

“Hey!” I yell out, stalking in their direction.

“Move, Ri! We’re fucking leaving! Go!”

He shoves at her again. Then he grabs her arm and forces her to walk.

“Get your hands off her!” I roar, gaining the attention of the other people on the sidewalk, just not the one person who needs to be hearing me. Richard doesn’t even turn his head.

I shove at people to get through the crowd. They’re slowing me down. They won’t let me get to her.

“I don’t want to go yet, Richard. Please!” Riley begs, stumbling as she tries to get away. “Let go of me! Why are you acting like this?”

He freezes. “Jesus, all you do is bitch, you know that?” Richard grips both of her arms, yanks her against him and gets up in her face. “I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here. You wanna stay? Fine. Fucking stay, you stupid cunt.”

Richard throws Riley to the ground. Her body hits the concrete. Hard. I hear her cry out.

My heart drops to my fucking stomach.

I push the last asshole standing in my way so hard he stumbles and then falls over. I run at Riley.

I should be running at Richard. I should be remembering my job, my fucking duty, the fact that he put his hands on her. I should be reacting to that but I only see Riley.

On the ground. Possibly hurt.

I see the tears in her eyes when I get a foot away. I reach out to grab her, to hold her.

Riley. Only Riley.

In a crowd of people or just two, I’m only seeing her.

Richard charges at me when I’m nearly at her side and it’s too late. I’m not expecting it. I’m watching her. All of my attention is on the girl I can’t get out of my head, and because of that, I can’t brace. I can’t react to him.

His shoulder connects with my ribs, fast and with all of his weight behind it, sending a shooting pain up my side and knocking the wind out of me, then we’re both sailing through the air until I hit something hard. It gives, shattering into pieces all around us.

The window at the front of the venue.

My back hits the floor inside The Red Door. Then my head, snapping back as a weight presses down on my chest.

People inside the club scream out.

I groan, eyes closed as I try and move my left leg. A fire spreads through it, burning me from below. I can feel the warmth flowing under my knee and up beneath my thigh. A thousand needles sting my back.

The weight on my chest is removed. Glass breaks around my head, then I hear my name being screamed, over and over.

“Oh, my God! Let me through! Move! Move out of the way!”

Riley.

Something presses on my knee, then a little lower where the fire is.

“Call 911! He needs to get to a hospital!”

I flinch, jerking my body. My shirt moves and fingers tug at my jeans.

“CJ, stay with me, okay?” Riley says through a shaky voice over the noise around us. Her warm hands hold my face and her breath tickles my lips. “Just hold on. I gotta use your belt as a tourniquet. I need to wrap it around your leg so we can stop the bleeding. An ambulance is coming, but you’re bleeding a lot. I need to stop it.”

I make a noise in my throat. I feel like I’m choking.

I want to look at Riley. I want to open my eyes and see those blue flames, let them burn me up instead of this fire I’m feeling now, but I can’t.

I’m tired. My eyes are so fucking heavy. I can’t open them.

Pain explodes in my leg as something tightens around it.

I groan, arching my back off the floor and gritting my teeth. I feel the flames everywhere now.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Riley cries over me. “Just hold on. They’re coming. They’ll be here soon.”

My entire body starts shaking. Sweat breaks out all over as the fire continues to scald my skin. Continues to spread. It’s burning fast now.

“CJ?”

I want to sleep.

Riley’s hands are on my face again. I can taste her breath. Her tears are wetting my lips.

“Please,” she whispers, voice breaking. “Please, hold on.”

Darkness closes around me. The fire burns out.

I no longer feel it.

I no longer feel anything.

CHEWING ON MY cuticle, I pace between the rows of chairs in the waiting room at St. Joseph’s Hospital.

Curious eyes follow my movement. I know why I’m being watched. I have blood all over me.

CJ’s blood.

I can typically handle the sight of it, which is a good thing considering the profession I chose. It’s never bothered me before. I’m not a squeamish girl. I never have been.

But seeing the puddle pooling around CJ, thick and bright red, and the way it was flowing like a river out of his leg . . .

I couldn’t handle it.

I couldn’t handle it because it was someone I knew and cared about. I couldn’t handle it because it was CJ.

He lost consciousness. I watched him slipping away. I tried talking to him and keeping him with me, but the blood . . .

There was too much.

Thank God the paramedics arrived when they did.

I followed behind the ambulance while I made frantic phone calls and sent out texts. And now I’m waiting.