Brandon's POV
I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I didn't care who was watching.
The second her body hit the floor, everything in me snapped — like something raw and instinctive clawed its way out of my chest and took over. My feet were already moving before my mind caught up. The crowd blurred into meaningless shapes, their gasps sounding miles away. All I saw was her — Chloe — crumpled on the cold hard floor, her eyes shuttered, her body frighteningly still.
My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to break free.
Please God, no. Let her be fine. Let her be fine.
In one heartbeat I was on my knees beside her. Her skin looked pale beneath the harsh flashlights, almost too pale, she just laid there, her lashes rested against her cheeks like she was fragile porcelain. For a terrifying moment, I thought she wasn't breathing.
My hand slid behind her neck instinctively, lifting her head slightly into my palm.
"Chloe. Chloe!"
