Daring, Charming , Real

Ch. 8

For hours I waited inside the living room for Thomas to return home. As the fire in the cobblestone hearth would die down so would my motivation to stay awake watching the door. The night droned on and every passing second felt heavier, much like my eyelids, which I fought back and forth with. The red hue of light from the fireplace sparked onto the surrounding walls and wooden floors casting different shadows into the dark. I watched them slink and dance around me before focusing more on the window across from me. It faced the sky above, glinting with stars and the moonlight as it poured over the glass panes. To keep me awake I looked over each constellation that I could remember from my childhood starting with my favorites and working over to the less familiar. Each time I'd think I found the big and little dipper my attention would focus back to another moving cloud or swaying branch from the left side of the house. Something about each made me uneasy but I couldn't place it. A pit began to form deep in my stomach and it seemed to grow larger with each passing minute. Even tears pricked at the edges of my eyes but I still lay confused as to what was wrong. Maybe the emotions of work were just catching up to me. Or maybe I was faced with the memories of Thomas and I laying on the back lawn, our bodies woven tightly together and necks turned to the sky as we pointed to each star. It was like the creator stretched out a nimble arm and painted something new each time we looked. It was a scene created only for us, even if the entire world was swarming down below. At least that's how I like to think of it. Just me and Mr. Shelby. 

My thoughts were caught short as sudden sobs arose in my throat forming a lump that remained put no matter how much I swallowed. It was like warfare inside my own body and I was unaware of what could cause such a dramatic effect. But much like the swift violent cry that arose, so did the reason behind it all. 

The front door swung open, nearly pulled from the hinges as each of the Shelby boys barrelled through. My posture was pulled tight and I leapt to my feet attempting to wipe the tears from my swollen eyes on the back of my sweater sleeve. I blame this for why I didn't first see him, even though now it didn't really matter. Thomas entered the living room first shouting orders to the others. His jacket had been stripped from his body and the white undershirt soaked in crimson. His face was also stained in the same color and as soon as his eyes met mine I could feel the weight of his regret. Regret of coming here but also the regret of allowing me to see the situation unfold. Not far behind him came Arthur and Jon, their breathing ragged and each just as soaked as Thomas was in the red liquid. In between them, they held Finn tight, his limp body swinging with every step. Blood poured from the side of his body and the side of his face. Thomas attempted to step in my line of view to shield some of the gore, but it was too late. I was already pushing past him and bolting to the loveseat they now laid Finn on. My sobs broke even louder now and I began to scream unable to hold the fear and sorrow seeping from my body. 

"Emilia, we tried to keep him out of trouble, we did." Arthur started, but I couldn't hear him from the sudden ringing expanding inside my eardrums. All I knew was Finn was injured, half-dead, and it was their fault.

"Get away from him," I mumbled shakily under my breath as I felt a hand clamp down tight on my shoulder.

"Em-"

"I said get away!" I screamed looking over each one of them, "Call a fucking doctor. So help me God Thomas, if he dies I'll kill every last Shelby standing." 

Slightly out of respect but mostly from fear, each of them took a step back. Thomas only nodded before retreating into the kitchen with his brothers. It wasn't long before I heard his voice reciting to the operator he needed a doctor immediately.

Finn's breathing was erratic. Most of the time it sounded as if it was tumbling from the deep parts of his lungs and other times it was so silent I had to press my ear to his chest to confirm he was still alive. I used a towel I pulled from the bathroom to wipe his wounds and press tightly to them to keep him from bleeding out. One hand pressed firmly into his side while the other held tight to his neck to check his pulse.  As long as that dull thud continued against my palm, I could breathe. It wasn't enough to comfort me but it was enough to keep me sane while I waited for the doctor. In reality, it was only about fifteen minutes for an ambulance to arrive but it felt like hours. My mind only registered a lifetime as medics flooded the area around us and began to stabilize him under my own hands. More than once was I told to let go but something wouldn't let me.  Only the familiar grasp of Tommy's arm around my waist prompted me to loosen my grip enough for them to get to Finn.