Carter Ortese is Trouble - completed (The Boys #1)

Chapter 33: Carter

Panic shoots through me, wraps around my mind, and numbs me from the inside out. This is bad. My fingers shake around my phone as I dial emergency. It rings once. Twice. My heart stutters inside my chest. I've never had to call before. What if they don't pick up? What if they don't get here in time? What if I lose her?

What's wrong, Emma?

"What's your emergency?" A calm tinny voice comes from the other end. It feels comical how nonchalant the sound is, when everything over here is falling apart.

"My girlfriend collapsed. She might have vomited blood." The words are foreign, not coming from my own mouth, but someone else's, someone who is in control. I am not. I am lost and useless and nothing makes sense anymore.

What happened, Emma?

"Okay, I can send a response team right away. What's your current location?" she asks.

"We're in the Woodridge Cemetery, just off Route 83." I rattle off the nearest cross streets.

"Is she still breathing?"

"Yes, she's..." I press my fingers against her throat and feel her pulse. I nestle the phone in between my shoulder and ear and press my fingers to my own throat. Her pulse feels weak in comparison to mine. "She passed out, but she's breathing and her pulse is still there."

Stay with me, Emma.

"A dispatch team is on their way, they'll be there as soon as they can. I am happy to remain on the line until they get there."

I turn my phone onto speaker and toss it onto the ground. "What do I need to do?" My mind races with what little I know about emergency first aid. She's breathing, so CPR is out. She's not bleeding anywhere I can see, so that's out. I need to be able to do something.

"You're doing great. May I have your name?"

"Carter," I say. "Carter Ortese."

"Carter, I'm going to ask you more specifics so I can give dispatch as much information as possible, okay?"

"Okay."

Please, Emma.

"What is her name?"

"Emma Williams."

"Did she hit her head when she collapsed?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Are you sure she vomited blood?"

"It's dark, but I used my flashlight. I don't know what else it could be. It's deep red." My own stomach churns with unease. I look at the minutes on my phone. This whole conversation has taken only two, but it feels like a lifetime. Each moment lasts forever. Emma is still, and she'd almost look peaceful if it weren't for the hollowness to her cheeks and slackness of her jaw.

I need you, Emma.

"What happened before she collapsed?"

"She was talking to me. Mid-sentence, and I don't know." I think back, but my mind whirls with memories piling on top of each other. I'm not sure which are important and which aren't. "She grabbed her stomach."

"That's all?"

I nod. I wish I could tell her more. I wish I knew more, but I am completely helpless, and frustration wells inside me. "I think so, but what do I do now?" I run my fingers along the curve of her jaw. Her skin is cool, clammy.

Stay with me, Emma.

"You've done what you can, Carter. You called us. She's still breathing, and her pulse is there, and the emergency team will be there soon. Hang in there." The last words are the first where her voice breaks from the cadence of calm.