I don’t know how long I sit on the bathroom floor holding Neil, unconscious, in my lap. It could be seconds. It could be hours. Time doesn’t really have meaning right now.
Neil is cold. He’s barely breathing. He looks like death.
That is all that matters.
I continue to scream my head off. My voice is hoarse when the brothers rush into the room. Though I don’t think too much time has passed. They’re all panting like they’d run here.
When they see Neil, three pairs of eyes go extra wide.
“Holy s**t,” Beau says.
Steven rushes forward, going to his knees along with me, on the other side of Neil. He takes his pulse.
“His heartbeat is faint.” Steven then starts to unbutton Neil’s shirt. He only gets a few buttons down before he stretches it out enough to see the silver.
My own breath cat
