Ch30

Oh my God, this can't be happening!

Ashton cradled Juliana's head in her lap as she struggled to contain the rush of blood pouring out from her chest. She was unconscious but breathing, that had to be a good sign, right? Ashton pressed her hands against the bullet wound, desperately trying to slow down the flow of blood. She didn't know much about first aid but she did understand the dangers of losing too much fluid too quickly, and with the paleness that had suddenly taken over Juliana's face, Ashton knew the injury had to be serious.

"Please don't die," she whispered fiercely, willing Juliana to open her eyes. What were you thinking stepping in front of me like that?

The image of Juliana pushing Ashton out of harms way consumed her. You risked your life to save me, even after the way I've been treating you. I don't deserve you . . . When you wake up, I'll tell you how I feel, I promise. I'll tell you that I love you. And if I'm lucky, you'll forgive me. Please, Juliana, wake up! Don't let it be to late.

Ashton squeezed her eyes close. How could Natalie have done such a thing? Why had she shot so many people? Juliana, Brooks, Oliver . . . her father. All this time she'd had a father right underneath her nose, and her mother had kept it from her. How selfish could she be? Was that why she was so against Ashton's career from the very beginning? Because of the secret she'd been keeping? How could she hide something like that from her? All this time, she'd had a family. A family! That's all she'd ever wanted.

I have sisters . . . Natalie is my sister . . . But she knew by looking at her now, that Natalie was no longer alive.

Natalie had also been the photographer that had betrayed them all. She'd gone out of her way to ruin their lives. Because she hated them. She'd spent the last several years of her life letting her jealousy and discontent fester, and now look at what happened! Natalie was dead, and her friends were not looking very good either.

My father . . . Ashton watched in disbelief as the paramedics lifted Oliver onto a stretcher, while fragments of their conversation rung out in her ears. He'd been shot in the back, and from what she could make out, the bullet was lodged somewhere near his spine. The medical team looked grim as they wheeled him out to the waiting ambulance.

Brooks had also taken a bullet during his attempt to take Natalie down. He was covered in crimson and it was difficult to tell where exactly he'd been shot. He had been a hero, putting his own life on the line to save his friends, and of all the victims Ashton had to admit he looked the worst. She watched as the pretty blonde who'd been standing next to him clung to his side, tightly gripping his hand in her own, deep worry lining her face. A trace of blood dripped down from the corner of his mouth, and instinctively Ashton knew he would have to fight for his life, if he was even still breathing. She only hoped his will would be strong enough.

Without warning, Ashton felt movement on her lap. She drug her eyes away from the activity that surrounded her to find Juliana coming to. "Juliana!" Ashton bent over her friend, giving her an embrace. Her blood-stained hand carefully swept the long black hair away from Juliana's cheek, smoothing it back behind her ear.

Juliana's eyes flickered slightly before finally opening. Her gaze locked on Ashton's, confusion and pain etched across her features. She opened her mouth and Ashton could hear her release a tiny gasp. "Shh," she soothed quietly, trying to block out the overwhelming noise taking place around them. The last thing Juliana needed was to feel the anxiety of the police and paramedics as they worked at the scene. "You're okay, Juliana. I'm here with you, and I promise to stay right by your side."

Her friend visibly relaxed at the sound of her voice, and Ashton grasped her hand tightly. They held one another's gaze before Juliana's eyes rolled back, her head falling limply to the side.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Miller's head throbbed as he looked around, unseeing. The images that moved before him were suddenly blurred by the phone call he had just received. Claire, his Claire, had been in a car accident. They were rushing her into emergency surgery at that very moment, calling to inform him and asking for consent. Did she have any allergies? Had she ever responded negatively to anesthesia? If necessary, would he like to have the Last Rights given to her or the baby?

The baby? Miller silently repeated. Was Claire pregnant? How could this be? Why hadn't she told him? Did she even know?

His mind was swamped with images from the past several weeks. Claire not feeling well, her exhaustion, bouts of nausea, the dizzy spells . . . She'd been to the doctor earlier in the day, surely they must have discovered the pregnancy then?

Anna.

Miller turned and stared at Claire's grief-stricken assistant, watching as she followed after Brooks. She was crying, her eyes red and swollen. She clung to Brooks' hand as if his life depended on it, which Miller realized it actually may. He remembered reading an article before about how the unconscious mind was still aware of the activity going on around them, even if the person was not physically able to experience it. Was Brooks aware of Anna's presence now, even though he was not awake to know better?

Over the past few years, Claire and Anna had become very close, maybe even best friends. She had also been at the doctor's office that day. Had Claire mentioned anything to her? Had she confided in her about the baby? The look on Anna's face now made him realize she was not thinking of anything except Brooks. Since when had the two become so close? He hadn't realized they even knew each other, let alone cared for one another. But he had noticed the look on his friend's face when Anna entered the room. It was obvious he was very taken by the soft-spoken blonde, and it was a expression he'd never seen Brooks wear before. Was it possible the two had grown close over the past few weeks? While Miller had been busy with his own affairs, had Brooks been falling . . . in love? The way Anna responded now did not seem how one would react over a mere casual acquaintance. Could it be . . ?

He hated to intrude, but he needed to speak with her. He needed to tell her about the accident and see if she knew anything about the baby. "Anna," he began, touching gently her on the shoulder. "I need to speak with you."

Anna stared back at him, but he wasn't sure she understood what he'd said. "It's about Claire." The last thing he wanted to do was worry her further, she had enough going on at the moment, but he needed answers, and quickly. "She's been in an accident."

Anna's eyebrows crinkled together in confusion, as if she was trying to understand what he'd just said. "An accident?" She glanced at Brooks before turning back toward him. "I don't understand, Miller. Claire should be at home. Are you certain?"

Miller ran a hand through his hair, and wondered if maybe he was dreaming. But he knew he wasn't. The stress of the past several weeks weighed heavy on him. Marie, Claire, the screenplay, the break-in at Brooks, the pictures in the magazine . . . It was all too much, and now this! An accident . . . A baby? Miller brought his fingertips to his forehead, digging them in to relieve the building pressure. "Yes, I'm certain. The hospital just called, I have to go."

"Is she okay?" Anna asked, her eyes filling with fresh tears.

Miller shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know, it sounds serious. The doctor wants me to get there as soon as I can, she's going into surgery. Will you stay with Brooks?"

"Yes, of course," she nodded, looking back at the stretcher. The paramedics covered Brooks' face with an silicone mask, providing oxygen to the unconscious patient. "Will you be alright to drive?" She drug her eyes away from Brooks and studied Miller carefully.

"I'll be fine."

Anna fidgeted uncomfortably before him. "Miller, did the doctor say anything else?"

She knows, she has to know. "He said he wasn't sure if they could save the baby."

Anna gasped and brought a shaky hand to her mouth. "Oh my God," she whispered to herself, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. And instinctively he knew it was true. Claire was pregnant. They were going to be parents—if the baby made it through . . . if Claire made it through . . .

Dear, God. Let them survive.

And how will it all end? Find out in the Epilogue!

Hello, and thank you for reading Fast Lane! If you liked this chapter, please remember to vote/comment! :)

(Chapter 30 approx. 1,500 words)