Cross went into that house, and…nothing.
There was no yell, no gunshot, not even a struggle. Just the same silence that always accompanied me wherever I was, whoever I was with. It was always there. I stilled and finally said, “Alex would’ve heard us.” His arms tightened around me. “Shit.” He let me go, and we both scrambled up, running for the house. I got there first, bolting through the front door. “Cross!” All the lights were off inside. There was a cold feeling to the house, like no one lived here. In that split second, I took in the pictures on the wall. The blankets folded over the couch. A pink little backpack on the floor, next to a larger black bag. The tennis shoes lined up by the wall. The little glittery sneakers next to them. A piano in one corner of the living room. A table that had mosaic tiles on the top of it. A kitchen counter with mail in a pile, a bag of bread with the end tucked under, a bowl of oranges next to it. A coffee machine in the corner. A tray of the little coffee cups that go inside it. A cupboard of mugs. There was a staleness in the air. People lived in this house, but that wasn’t the way it felt. It felt cold—like death. “In here!” Cross’ voice came down the hallway. We ran past doors until we found him, in a bathroom off the hallway. Alex was slumped on the floor, a bottle of pills and whiskey next to him, his head hanging low. His body was already pale. “Shit.” Jordan said that, but I didn’t recognize his voice. Cross wasn’t standing over him with a gun. The gun was on the floor next to his foot as he knocked the pills and booze away and felt for Alex’s pulse. He yelled over his shoulder, “Back the truck up. We have to take him. Paramedics won’t get here in time.” He wanted to save his life. Both Jordan and I were paralyzed a second, letting the scene register. Cross looked up and barked, “NOW!” Jordan hit the doorframe next to me, using it to push himself around in a tight turn, and he was off. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My pulse was back to racing, but this was a different type of sprint. Cross met my gaze. “He’s barely breathing, but he’s breathing. His pulse is slowing down.” I nodded, my throat swelling. I couldn’t bring myself to talk, but I moved over him and jammed three fingers down Alex’s throat. His body jerked against me. Cross moved back, giving me space. I yelled at him, “Get rid of that. Now.” I nodded to the gun. He grabbed it, putting it in his pants again. “HERE!” Jordan pounded back inside, and with my fingers still trying to make Alex throw up, he and Cross picked him up. All three of us moved together, keeping Alex on his side as we ran through the house. We made sure his head didn’t hit any walls or doorframes, and once we slid him onto the back of the truck, Cross and I jumped up. Jordan sprinted back inside, coming out with his arms full of blankets. He slammed the tailgate shut behind me, throwing the blankets at us. “Jordan.” Cross held the gun out to him. Jordan grabbed it, then leaped inside. I had one second to grab one of those blankets, stuff it under Alex’s head, and grab hold of the side. We were off. Jordan peeled out of there, spraying up dirt and half of Durrant’s yard. I didn’t remember the drive to the hospital. I’m sure it was dangerous, and maddening, and wild. I’m sure there were times we might’ve been flung from the back because Jordan didn’t slow down. He drove like he needed to save a life. I didn’t give a damn that my hand was inside Alex’s throat half the time. I remembered feeling such relief when finally he started throwing up. I remembered looking up and meeting Cross’ eyes over Alex’s body and being so fucking grateful we were saving him and not burying him. I remembered seeing my Cross once again. Then we were at the hospital. The doors to the ER slid open. A nurse came out, his eyes bulged, and he began screaming over his shoulder. He ran to the back with Jordan beside him, and all of us helped slide Alex to the edge just as a gurney appeared. I started to go with it until that same nurse touched my arm. “We got this.” He nodded to all of us. “Thank you. You probably saved his life.” There were two other nurses with him, and they pushed Alex inside, just as a doctor ran to meet them. And I knew I would always remember that feeling—standing there, staring after them, with my guys right beside me. I felt alive.