I couldn't move. My fingers gripped Iz's limp hand like a lifeline, nearly numb against hers. Something inside of me screamed at me to move, to get her help. But my body was having a hard time reacting. Frozen like a statue, stuck in a single moment that would be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.
All I seemed capable of doing was listening to the same set of words over and over that scrambled through my mind...
IZ. IZ. IZ. MY FAULT. MY FAULT. MY FAULT.
Laurence sat staring at me from several feet away, covered in gravel and dirt. He must have accidentally knocked me down when the fight broke out. That would explain the wide-eyed shock across his face as he stared at me holding Iz, dumbfounded and confused by what had happened in the dark.
I pulled my eyes away from his and forced myself to think. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, working on autopilot.
"911 What's your emergency?" a calm woman's voice asked on the other end of the phone.
"Um..." I cleared my throat, forcing myself to speak clearly even as tears blurred my vision and ran down my cheeks. "Someone's been stabbed at the Getty Museum by the hedge maze next to the courtyard."
I reached down and ripped the bottom of my dress apart, taking the material and placing it against the blood along Iz's stomach where she had been stabbed. I pushed the material tight, hoping to slow down the bleeding.
"We need an ambulance as quickly as possible... And whatever you think quick is, please—" my voice cracked as the cloth against Iz was soaked through and I added more of my dress to the pile. I closed my eyes, forcing my voice to even out. "Please make it faster than that."
My voice didn't sound like mine as the woman asked me questions. Telling me to describe Iz's age and injuries. My replies sounded robotic. Strange. Chillingly calm. But I was far from calm. I was screaming inside. My hands shook so hard it was nearly impossible to hang up the phone once I was done.
"What did you do?" A dangerously quiet voice said above me.
I turned up and stared into twin angry ocean storm eyes. But Aiden wasn't looking at me. He only had eyes for his sister, sitting broken in my lap, my hands and dress covered in her blood.
"I... she..." I didn't have it in me to explain. "The ambulance is on the way," I said fighting back a sob.
The anger evaporated as quickly as it hit Aiden, and he fell to his knees, the fight leaving his body. Aiden's tough exterior dissolved into panic as he swore, eyes boring into the blood that continued to bloom out from Iz's dress as if by glaring at it, he could force the blood back into her body and keep her safe.
"Oh Izzy..." he breathed. The sound of her name on his lips was so full of despair that it broke me in two. It turned the entire feeling of disbelief into a heavy grief that threatened to drown me, consume me until there was nothing left. Not yet Allie. You can't break yet. Not until help gets here.
Yanking off his jacket, Aiden replaced my now bloody set of dress cloth from her stomach with it.
"What happened?" Aiden asked, his voice deathly quiet.
"The lights went out... someone stabbed her. But—"
"But they were looking for you," he finished, voice cold.
I felt numb to his anger. To the accusing tone. "Yes."
"Why?" he glanced up at me for a moment, eyes sharp, angry, wild, before falling back on his sister's face.
"If I knew I wouldn't have people mysteriously trashing my office and trying to stab me in hedge mazes. I'd be covering up my revenge murder crimes," I replied numbly.
IZ. IZ. IZ. MY FAULT. MY FAULT. MY FAULT.
He paused, adjusting his jacket on Iz's wound, fingers gripping the material tightly. I could feel a sharp reply edging its way out of his mouth. "You—" He clamped his mouth shut, jaw clenching and unclenching, fighting for control. Finally, he let out an unsteady breath. "Walk me through every step of what happened. Keep me thinking or I am going to lose my mind before the ambulance gets here."
The story took too long to tell. For every detail, he had three questions. It felt like being trapped in a bubble of endless time as I relived the same moments over and over from different angles. Like movies that stay on sad scenes for too long just to make it clear that the moment is sad. I didn't want that. I didn't want my own k-drama sad story to be played out at a thousand different angles. It hurt too much.
I wanted the story to jump to the next scene where Iz would be fine, and I wouldn't have her blood caked all over my hands and the dress she helped me make.
IZ. IZ. IZ. MY FAULT. MY FAULT. MY FAULT.
By the time the ambulance arrived, I had walked Aiden through everything from every possible angle imaginable.
He seemed lost in thought, trying to put together a puzzle that lacked all the pieces while watching the paramedics pull Iz into the ambulance. I could see the gears working away in his mind, and wondered how he could possibly think when his world was falling apart around him.
I asked the paramedics for answers on Iz's condition. But they were there and gone in a flurry of quick movements and decisions, dressed in a wash of white like angels we weren't ready to see yet.
A crowd had gathered to watch the scene, showcasing just enough common sense not to get too close.
Their masked faces and garish gowns were washed from red to blue, and back to red in rhythmic measure as the ambulance lights washed away the night of fashion, and drew in a night of terror. Aiden fell into the wash of duel colors as he followed Iz into the back of the ambulance. And I heard him mutter a promise as the doors closed behind him. "Whoever this is has messed with the wrong family."
Then the ambulance doors slammed shut, leaving the promise of revenge in the air.
I was bleeding. Something I hadn't realized until the paramedics lifted me onto my own stretcher and wheeled me into a second ambulance. When I tried to convince them I was fine and attempted to crawl off the stretcher, my body protested, mind surging with dizzyness and I nearly passed out and fell flat on my face on the ground below.
They yanked me to a stop before my face kissed the ground, gently put me back on the stretcher and I stopped protesting as they lifted me inside the ambulance, passing out before the ambulance had begun moving. The panic grew quieter and quieter as my mind slipped into a dull lull.
Iz... my... fault...
...
A swirl of gold and green filled my vision. "Don't you dare say anything!" a familiar female voice said in a hushed, chastising tone. "She's been through enough. And you come off as kind of interrogate-y. Go get some air."
I blinked and the sight of Laliana staring down at me finally came into focus. I glanced past her and spotted Aiden leaving the room, posture taut with unused anger.
"Laliana?" I croaked, groggily. It took me a second to register that I was in the hospital. The feel of itchy blankets, a muddied mind, and the sound of insistent beeping left me feeling antsy. I hated hospitals. They always made me feel trapped. I wanted out.
"You're awake!" Laliana said, pulling me into a hug before I had a chance to get my barrings. "Ohmygosh.I'msogladyouareokay!" she replied in a mush of words, before pulling back. "I came as soon as I heard."
I moved, wincing as pain rushed across my collar bone. "How long have I been here?"
My throat felt dry and before I could look around for a glass of water, it was hovering before my face, Laliana reading my mind like a courteous wizard. I took a long swallow, feeling slightly calmer.
"You've been here for an hour."
Laliana sat down on the edge of my bed, fingers tugging at a loose strand of her penguin patterned pajama pants. It took me a second to realize what she was wearing. Her hair was up in a messy bun, a large pair of glasses sat on her face and she sported a worn-out disco penguin shirt. What on earth...
Laliana watched my face and then looked down at herself. "I was in the middle of drafting a book when I got the call." She held up her hands. "Behold my middle-of-the-night work clothes. Classy isn't it."
"I don't even know where to start..." I admitted, eyes still wide as I noticed that the penguins on her pants wore bedazzled disco vests. Where does someone even get pants like those?!?
I blinked, pulling my critical train of thought to a stop. "Where's Iz?"
Laliana dropped her hands into her lap, dejected. "She's in the room down the hall." Staring at the design on her pants, Laliana traced their patterns, voice slightly uneven as she continued. "She's lost a lot of blood. Aiden is her blood type so he donated."
She gave me a halfhearted smile. "She's not out of the woods yet." Her fingers stopped tracing the patterns abruptly. "And even with the blood loss from donating, Aiden is stalking around, looking for something to break."
She sighed, tugging on a strand of her hair. "I wouldn't get close to him right now. He's itching to blame you, which is ridiculous—"
I shook my head, cutting her off. "It's not ridiculous."
She stared me down, brow raised. "Did you stab Iz?"
"What?!? No."
"Then how on earth is it your fault?!?" She cut me off again before I could get a word in. "Grief sends us down the blame hole. You tried to stop it from happening. And Aiden blames himself for letting her take two steps away from him. He blames himself just as much as he blames you. And that the fact that both of you are blaming yourselves is utterly ridiculous."
I looked down at my hands. They were clean, the evidence of the evening, gone. "I took her there," I replied, pushing away the memory of her blood on my fingers. Her dress slowly dying itself a shade of darker red.
Laliana leaned forward, forcing me to look at her. "It was a fashion event. Not the Hunger Games. How were you supposed to know that someone would try and hurt you? You aren't psychic."
I sunk back into the pillows, closing my eyes. Laliana scooted up until she sat next to me, shoulder to shoulder on the bed.
"Stop looking for reasons to hate yourself, Allie. You threw yourself at someone holding a knife! That's like Wonder Woman stuff right there. You are awesome, and wonderful, and beautiful, and loyal, and protective and I am honored to call you my friend. So stop mentally ticking off all the reasons you think you suck."
Tears welled from behind my closed eyelids and I scrunched them tighter, hoping to keep the tears hidden. The combination of exhaustion, fear for Iz, and Laliana's unrelenting warmth threatened to undo me. Her kindness was almost unbearable, causing me to sink further into the pillows. It made me feel loved and cared for in a way that had felt so rare up until recently.
"Stop being nice to me or I am going to shove you off the bed," I muttered.
I could hear the smile in her voice. "You are welcome."
"Is Iz going to be okay?" I whispered, peeking up at Laliana from behind my closed eyelids. It was the question I needed answers to, and the one I could barely ask.
Laliana paused, and that pause nearly killed me. I couldn't handle waiting for answers. I needed to know before I burst into panicked flames. "No dramatic pausing Laliana. Just spit it out. Am I getting killed by your fiancé or not?"
"I won't let him kill you," she said completely serious.
My eyes went wide. "Does he have reason to?"
"He always thinks so, but that is hardly the point."
"LALIANA! PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY AND JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!" I shouted, wincing as I sucked in a breath, sending sharp pains across my collar bone.
She jumped. "Shoot. Sorry. I didn't even realize I was making you wait." Laliana rubbed her eyes, looking tired. "The cut wasn't very deep. Apparently, Iz is a very heavy bleeder which scared the crap out of all of us. But the knife missed her vital organs. So she should be okay. They are just being cautious."
I sighed, breathing for what felt like the first time in hours. "Good."
"As for you..." Laliana continued, bumping my shoulder with hers. "The doctor said you got a bad cut. You are probably going to end up with a pretty gnarly scar after getting thirteen stitches."
I glanced down at my collar and my heart dropped slightly. I had always liked my neck. And now I was going to walk around with a permanent memory of my nightmare evening.
"There's one more thing..." Laliana said, hiding her expression as she stared at a painting across the small room with far too much concentration. "Normally I'd ignore it and let you get some rest, but this is a big one. There's a news article out about you and Laurence Royal."
I groaned, rubbing my hands down my face, too embarrassed to look at Laliana. "What a disaster."
"Wait," her voice fell to a whisper. "How'd you find out? Did he really do it?"
I bit my lip, pausing for a beat. "Yeah," I said quietly, tugging a pillow out from behind my head and burying my face into it before Laliana could start screaming.
And sure enough, she did. "OHMYGOSH. WHAAAA?" She scrambled from the bed and began to pace back and forth, arms flailing. "You didn't tell Aiden that!"
"I skipped over that part," I admitted, muttering into the pillow. I hadn't wanted Aiden to know that twenty seconds before Iz got hurt, I was making out with someone who I thought was Tate but was VERY MUCH not Tate.
Can a hole appear in the ground and swallow me forever?
"HOW DO YOU SKIP OVER THAT PART!?!" She squeaked, voice so high pitched that I was convinced she would soon hit an octave only dogs could hear.
"Because I didn't want to tell Aiden! He would have just used that as another reason to hate me!" I exclaimed, startled by her level of panic. The squeaks were hurting my ears. She needed to calm down. But then again I couldn't judge her much, I was shouting too.
"Why would knowing who hurt Iz make him hate you?"
I froze, ice washing through me. "What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice suddenly quiet as I dropped the pillow from my face.
She stared back at me, head tilted to the side, brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"About how I kissed Laurence thinking he was Tate. The pictures are all over the internet, right?"
Laliana's eyes— which were already wide— found a way to go even wider. "Wait, what?!?" She collapsed into the chair by my bed. "Okay, so that's a whoooole other thing we need to address."
"Isn't that what you are talking about?" I asked, growing nervous. I was missing a vital piece of information and the confusion was nauseating.
"Allie..." Laliana said slowly. "Laurence was taken into custody an hour ago. They think he tried to kill you and got Iz by mistake."
My mind spun, confusion sending the room into a swirl of colors and smells until it was impossible to see just one thing or smell anything on its own.
I tried to imagine Laurence wielding the knife. I tried to picture him being angry enough to attack me after I had thrown his feelings back into his face. But something about that depiction felt wrong.
It was the fact that he had been behind me, nowhere near Iz when the fight began. It was the look of shock on Laurence's face as he sat staring at me from the ground as I pulled Iz into my arms. The sight was burned into my brain. He looked completely surprised. Terrified. He hardly seemed like the murdering type. Terrible at choosing socks and plants, yes, but a killer? No.
Laurence's final words in his office suddenly rang through my mind, terrifying in their truth... "Did it ever occur to you that I was framed? That someone else is trying to destroy you?"
I was now convinced of two things. One. Laurence Roal wasn't a killer. And two, whoever had tried to kill me, just got exactly what they wanted when the police took Laurence away.
---
Thank you for reading chapter thirty-nine! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
Laurence is in jail. But did he attack Iz? Or is someone taking advantage of the situation?
Why aren't the pictures of Allie and Laurence out?
If Laurence really did attack Iz, was he working alone?
What will happen next?
CHAPTER QUESTION - If you kissed someone and regretted it, do you have someone you would trust with that piece of information?