The Filthy One - Page 13

Thank fuck.

I take a deep breath to speak, and turn to Mr. Bobby. Then I see it, the blood underneath him. The hole in his chest.

No…

“Mr. Bobby?” My words are barely audible, merely a whisper.

He smiles at me from where he lies, his eyes watering as he moves his mouth, trying to speak, his warm breath visible in the chilly December air.

“No, don’t talk. It’s going to be fine. It’s fine. I’ll call an ambulance and they’ll come and they’ll save you and everything will be just… fine.” I scooch behind him, cradling him between my knees and resting his head on my thigh—making sure his beanie is firmly in place—before I slam my other hand over his wound to keep him from bleeding out.

“Somebody, help!” My screams don’t feel loud enough. “Come on, Mr. Bobby, keep your eyes open… Help!”

He continues to look at me, still trying to speak, as I try desperately to keep my calm and grab my phone from my pocket to call an ambulance and the fucking police, and whoever else I need to call to save this sweet man in my arms.

“Don’t for-forget the big picture… sweet girl.”

“Mr. Bobby. Come on. Eyes open. Help us!”

I can’t look away, but at the same time, seeing the despondence in his eyes is heartbreaking, it’s almost like his soul is disappearing right in front of me. Well, I won’t have that. No. Not happening.

“Mr. Bobby, you’re just going to have to remind me, aren’t you? Every day. You hear me? Don’t you dare give up. I need you.” I’m trying so hard to hold back my frightened tears, but it’s not working. They’re streaming down my face and onto his head, where I attempt to wipe them away.

“Josie?” His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him, and he’s not looking at me anymore. His eyes are half closed, and the serene smile on his face causes a sob to tear from my throat.

I dial 911 on my cell, turn on the speakerphone, and put it on the step next to me.

Why the fuck is nobody around? Where are all the people? I know this street can be quiet sometimes, but why the fuck now?

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” Comes through the speaker.

“My friend has been shot, please come quickly.” I reel off the address, and before I can hang up or do anything else, Mr. Bobby slowly moves his hand over mine on his chest, bringing all my attention back to him. The woman on the other end of the line says something about the police and ambulance being on their way, which means someone else already called it in.

He pats my hand twice before it slips to his side.

“Jo…” His voice is just a breath, spoken on an exhale.

“It’s okay, Mr. B. The ambulance is on the way.”

Something’s wrong though. His chest no longer rises and falls beneath my hand, the low, shallow breaths he was taking before have stopped, and the whole world begins to crumble around me.

No…

I can feel myself screaming at him to wake up, ordering him to breathe and open his eyes. I can barely see through the tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Wake up. I need you. Please, Mr. Bobby. Wake up.”

The sirens blare in the distance, but they’re too late. He’s gone, and I feel so broken inside. I have no idea what happened, but I know he pushed me for a reason.

He saved me.

Mr. Bobby saved my life, and paid with his own.

The agony inside me is roaring, and I know my screams for help were heard by the crowd of people around us. But it’s too much. I don’t want them to touch him, to hurt him. To take him away from me where I’ll never see him again.

An ambulance pulls up, moving the onlookers away to get to us. I can barely make them out through my blurred vision, but one of them is crouched down and speaking to me, trying to gently pry my arms from around Mr. Bobby.

I let out an almighty yell of frustration, anger, and heartache before finally releasing him. The ding of my stupid phone makes me pick it up, about to throw it in frustration, but the message I see flashing there makes me pause.

Tags: N.O. One Erotic
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