“Fallon,” I whisper. “Please.” It’s a prayer. For someone up there to hear me and do something. To make her okay. Otherwise… I’m a fucking goner. I squeeze my eyes shut. Fallon crawling for me. Her screams silencing. Her body twisted, like a broken doll. The images keep flashing through my mind like a strobe, and I wish to hell it was dream. This was bound to happen sooner or later. I knew it. Everyone knew it. It’s what I feared. Fallon getting hurt. It’s why I flipped the fuck out when she told us she was riding bulls. But I’m not ready for it. Not now. Not ever.
