I hold her tighter, but the pain behind my ribs is sharp. Deep. “Are you, Angel?” I ask, and glance over at the mess that used to be Vick’s head.
Lo’s voice is soft, almost lost in the mess of everything. “He stepped in front of me,” she says, her hand still clinging to my arm. “Took the swing for me. Pushed me out of the way.”
I glance at Vick’s eviscerated face. I nod once. “Well… then he finally acted like a father.”
Her breath hitches and I feel her fold against me again, her face buried in my neck, her fingers twisting in what’s left of my shirt. I just hold her tight.
“What do we do now?” Cody asks, voice cracking through the quiet. He sounds too calm. Which means he’s probably not okay.
Bridger groans like he’s been reminded he has a body. “I’m fucking shot.”
I let out another broken laugh, my arm around Lo tightening. “Yeah. I think we need medical help.”
Lo lifts her head just enough to look at me. Her face is stained with blood and streaked with tears. Her lip trembles—but her eyes are dry. Steady. “I don’t know any veterinarians here,” she says with a faint smirk. “Last time you needed medical help, we ended up in a vet’s office.” She lets out a half-laugh, half-sob, then presses her forehead to mine. “Oh, God. You’re really bleeding a lot,” she whispers.
“I’ve bled worse.”
Her eyes flash. “That’s not comforting.”
Somewhere behind us, I hear Neve shuffling around, probably checking on Bridger. Cody’s crouched now, breathing heavy but upright.
I don’t even know how I make it to my feet. Everything hurts. My shoulder’s soaked with blood, and my head’s buzzing like a hive cracked open. But I wrap my arm around Lo and push up, dragging us both off the stage. She’s trembling, but she moves with me—limping, bruised, strong as hell. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I rasp.
The others follow.
Neve’s got her arm under Bridger’s, helping him walk. His shirt is half-off and dark with blood, his face pale. But his eyes are alert. Cody’s behind them, limping, his face split in a grin like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life.
We make it to the double doors, busted and crooked from where I tore one off the hinges. Outside, the light slaps us like a resurrection.
Lo gasps beside me.
The air smells like wet grass and gasoline. The heat clings to our skin. Cody leans against the side of the car, dragging in gulps of it like he’s never breathed before.
Neve opens the Jeep’s passenger-side door and eases Bridger in first. Lo helps me into my SUV. I exhale and lean back into the hot leather seat.
The door slams and Lo runs around the front and slides in the driver’s seat next to me. Cody climbs in back as she reaches for my hand. Her fingers are sticky with blood. Mine too. But they fit so perfect together.
“I’m high on adrenaline and spite,” Cody says from behind me. The engine rumbles to life. Gravel kicks up behind us. “Think we’re still making our flight?”
I close my eyes for a moment and when I open them back up Lo’s driving, but her knuckles are white against the wheel. I’m half-slumped in the passenger seat, the seat belt digging into my chest where the blood hasn’t stopped leaking. Cody’s voice is behind me—he’s saying something, but it’s underwater now. Everything is.
Neve’s behind us in Bridger’s Jeep, following tight. I see it in the side mirror as we tear into the hospital parking lot. Then the hospital doors open. Hands are everywhere. People shouting. I’m on a gurney. Cold air slaps my skin as they lift me.
“He’s losing too much blood. Get a line in, now!”
I hear Lo’s voice. Frantic. Cracking. “Don’t let him die—please, don’t let him die!”
Is she talking about me? Bridger? Cody? I can’t tell. I don’t know who’s bleeding. Could be any of us. Could be all of us.
I try to lift my head and find her. Just one more time. She’s running beside the gurney. Her face is streaked with tears, she’s a fucking mess, and still she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s safe. That’s all that matters.
The overhead lights blur into white lines as they roll me faster, shouting orders, pricking things into my veins. I sink deeper, my body giving out, my mind stretching thin like it's slipping beneath water. But before the dark closes in completely, I try to reach out my hand and grab for Lo. Now the lights streak above me like comets. My body’s a war zone. But my mind—my mind is peeling away.
Then I feel her hand—warm, shaking—slip into mine. And suddenly the world narrows. I’m not in a hospital anymore. I’m in that bar. The first night. Watching her pour red wine into sixglasses and load them on a tray. As she lifts the tray some drunk asshole knocks into her and the wine flies at me. She gasps, grabs a towel, starts dabbing at my jeans—mortified. I laugh. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" she gasps, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Her voice is raspy, sexy. I had wanted to hear it since the moment I saw her walk in.
"Don't I deserve dinner before you feel me up?"
