Haunt [Aidan Hunter series book 2] [RE-WRITING]

Chapter 19

I sat next to Henry in the ambulance, joined by two other medics, who frantically tried to keep him alive. My hands were red with his blood and I couldn't stop them from trembling. I crumpled the thin sheets of the stretcher in my fists, unable to tear my gaze from his face, from the breathing mask strapped to it. His shirt had been ripped apart, and the bleeding holes in his chest terrified the life out of me.

I had never been the praying kind, but right now, I'd get on my knees and beg for his life. Trade places with him if I could.

"Henry, don't let me go." My voice wavered. "Please don't let me go."

His life hung on a loose thread, and his survival depended on the medics. There was nothing I could do except trust in them. That was hard to do when anxiety possessed me, flooding my mind with the darkest thoughts, and even harder to sit in the ambulance, strapped to the seat. I was oblivious to the breakneck speed we travelled at. My heart thrashed in my ears.

Pull yourself together.

A single thought looped in my mind like a tape when I looked at Henry. Don't you fucking die on me. Don't even think about it.

On reaching the hospital, I helped the doctors wheel him into the ICU, then stood outside the door, watching them rush to help him. The high-pitched beeping of the monitors as Henry's pulse dropped sent chills down my spine. They had removed the horseshoe medallion from his neck and handed it to me. I glanced at the piece of silver jewelry, tainted red, as was my shirt.

Stained with the blood of the man I loved.

Clasping the medallion in folded hands, I pressed it to my forehead, as if in prayer. Every minute felt like a lifetime, waiting, hoping for Henry to make it. I wore the chain around my neck for safekeeping. Heading to the bathroom, I washed the blood off my hands, and it tortured me seeing the reddish water going down the drain. I broke down, shoulders shaking. My entire being fell apart. I took shuddering breaths, trying to piece myself together. But goddamn it, it hurt.

It hurt like hell.

Louis and Charlie arrived later. Parker wanted to come too, but I asked her to get back to the HQ and get to finding Vincent, much to her agitation. She listened, albeit reluctantly. I wanted to waste no time in finding that psycho. He was wounded, so he couldn't have gotten far. I wondered if he would take the risk of going to a hospital and get noticed by the surveillance cams. He might. After all, he barged right into our HQ and killed more than a dozen men. Who's to stop him from going to a hospital? He didn't care about being seen. If anything, that son of a bitch seemed to like the attention.

I sat on the bench outside the ICU, and Louis sat beside me in silence. No one could understand what I was going through better than him. It didn't even need words.

The regret of not having said the words I needed to, clawed at me. I should've told Henry what I felt when I had the chance.

I should have.

Charlie came to me. "Aidan, there's something I need to tell you."

He handed me the phone he used to call Parker. The screen displayed the contact list, in which there was a single number saved under Charlie's name.

"That's not my number," he said. "It's Vincent's."

I looked up at him.

"This might sound crazy," he added. "But the only reason I was able to call Parker was because of that assassin guy. He gave me this phone, told me I had two minutes to make a call. I hid it in my shoes afterwards. He knew, yet he didn't stop me."

"Why would he help you?" I asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "That's what I meant. It's crazy. He saved Vincent's number in it under my name and told me about it. Maybe we could use it to track him. I don't know why that assassin took the risk for me."