TRAIN [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 25: Cuts

 That Sunday morning, Gavin parked his classy car in the underground parking, next to the other sexy cars that he was permitted to drive. He then took the elevator to the shooting range on the tenth floor, where he would coach Molly and Clifford on firearm etiquettes, where Molly and Clifford should have been, but weren't. He asked a guy if he had seen them, but he was of no help.

Gavin went up to the Ranking Room because he knew Stefan would be there. They were friends, they got over their disputes, at least when Aimee was involved.

"What, are you sure?" queried Stefan.

"I double-checked."

"And Aimee isn't here either. You think they're okay?"

"Do you?" he asked. At the same time, he had replied to Stefan's question.

"Val, Finn, I'm heading out," he addressed them and casually nodded at Dominick.

His friends refrained from asking questions; they knew that whatever it was, it deserved his attention.

Gavin drove the McLaren to the Griffiths, with Stefan riding shotgun. When they arrived, Stefan swung his door open, with a little too much faith in the strength of its hinges, and rushed to the house.

"Aimee?!" he called, knocking vigorously on the front door.

There was no answer, so he tried opening it. Unlocked. Gavin followed him inside once he had locked the car. He addressed each of her parents, and that time, they responded.

"Gavin, is that you?" bellowed Clifford.

His voice came from upstairs. They ran up to Aimee's bedroom, but then they reached her door and the scene before them was petrifying. She was sitting on the floor, her parents on either side of her, flustered and babbling on about how they had already called an ambulance. Aimee's left hand was concealing her right, staunching blood, and there was a reddened shard of glass beside them on the carpet.

Stefan and Gavin barely allowed themselves a second of hesitation; they had to do something immediately, they had to help. They hastened to her.

What had happened? Celeste had missed a shard when she cleaning out Aimee's room and it had crept beneath her pillow, where she had been sleeping on her arm. When she woke up, it had lodged itself in her forearm. She had pulled it out and screamed, the sound alerting her parents. She had remained on the floor, as she was now. It was as if the pain had paralysed her.

"I'm okay," she lied. Molly slapped her.

"Molly!" Cliff scolded her, eyes agape.

She cupped her mouth in shame, "I'm sorry," she said to them both.

Aimee nodded, understanding that she could not really blame her. She wondered what was taking the ambulance van so long.

Gavin carried Aimee by the underside of her knees and her upper back. He was extremely cautious, considering the aggregate of worry in him. She was frail and faint and losing too much blood. He carried her down the passage and the stairs, with three followers behind him.

"Take her to GINM, Janet will take good care of her," suggested Stefan.

He agreed.

Stefan glanced at Aimee. "What happened?" he inquired.

"Don't worry, Stefan."

"You can't ask that of me."

He noticed her tightening grip on her right forearm. "I'm okay," she insisted again, "I'll be okay."