+15 Bes
Desperate Measures
MARY’S POV:
I pushed myself up off the gravel, my body reacting before my terrified brain could even process what I was about to do. The sharp stones bit hard into the cuts on my bare feet, but the pain did not stop me for a single second. I sprinted straight toward the open driver door of the silver car, my lungs burning for air. Vesper’s eyes went wide with shock as she saw me coming, her mouth opening up to scream.
I reached my arm deep through the open window, grabbed the inner door handle, pulled it back hard, and yanked the driver door wide open. Vesper let out a sharp, high-pitched shriek as I reached across the front seat, grabbed her arm tightly, and yanked her right out of the vehicle onto the driveway. She stumbled backward over her high heels, her shoes scraping loudly against the concrete as she fell onto her hip, her face twisting into a look of pure rage.
Before she or Alistair could even figure out what was happening, I slid my body into the leather driver seat.
The car engine was still running with a quiet hum. The keys were sitting right there in the ignition switch.
I did not pause to think. I did not care about the consequences. I just put my foot down.
I shifted the car into drive and hit the gas pedal hard, making the tires spin against the pavement with a loud squeal. I steered the heavy vehicle around, pulling it up right beside where Hotch was lying motionless on the road, the bright headlights illuminating his pale, bloody body. His skin looked ghostly white in the harsh yellow light, his chest barely moving at all. The blood from his head had formed a thick, dark pool on the cold pavement beneath him.
I threw the transmission into park, pushed the door open, and jumped out onto the street.
I rushed straight to Hotch’s side, dropping down and grabbing him firmly by his broad shoulders. He felt heavy, like dead weight in my arms, his limp body completely unresponsive to my touch. But I did not care how heavy he was. I threw my back into it and hoisted his upper body up onto my shoulder, my leg muscles screaming from the sudden strain as my breath came out in sharp gasps. His limp head fell forward against my neck, his cold skin pressing right against mine.
I stumbled toward the open back door of the car, dragging his heavy body along with me. I could feel the warm, sticky feeling of his fresh blood soaking right through the thin cotton of my shirt, and I could feel the faint, irregular movement of his chest pressing against my back. His weak heart was still beating, every slow pulse serving as a terrifying reminder that I was rapidly running out of time to save him.
I had to get him to an emergency room right now. I had to save his life.
Suddenly, a tall, broad shadow blocked the light in front of me.
I pulled my head up.
Alistair was standing directly between me and the open back door of the car, his posture wide and unyielding as he blocked my path. His face was locked into a hard, ruthless expression, his dark eyes totally cold, and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He stood there like a heavy brick wall, refusing to move an inch. His broad shoulders were squared off, and his jaw was set tight.
“Get the hell out of my way right now!” I yelled at him, my voice dropping into a low, terrifying warning. “If a single thing happens to Hotch tonight, I swear on my life I will make sure you are charged with his murder!”
He did not step back a single inch. He just stood there right in front of the car door, looking mean, dangerous, and completely stubborn, his dark eyes locked onto mine. The bright red mark on his left cheek was still burning, a
1/2
+15 Berus
clear reminder of the slap I had given him moments ago. His cold gaze slowly drifted down to look at Hotch’s limp, bloody body draped over my shoulder, and then moved back up to stare into my eyes.
“If you are so eager to see him die right here,” he said in a flat, ice-cold voice, “then go right ahead and keep dragging his heavy body around in the street.”
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