Pain and exhaustion drain me.My muscles stop responding.The throbbing in my stomach eats through my strength.
“I’m stopping the damn bleeding,” he snaps, sweating.
“It’s rare… to see you care,” I whisper, my voice growing smaller with every breath.
“I care about not losing my witness.Can you shut up already?”he shoots back.
My lips crook into a small smile.“I’ll pass…” Witness?Don’t be kidding me.“I’m giving up my—,” damn, my stomach throbs so bad, “law license tomorrow,” I mumble, barely forming the words.My vision’s getting blurrier.
“You’re still my witness unless you die here.”Golden’s voice getting further away.
“Don’t say that!He’s not dying,” Fenella fires at him.
“Sorry.I was tr—ng to en—rage him,” he mutters, too soft for me to make out the whole sentence.
“Yeah, that’s n—how to—courage anyone,” Jessy groans.
A tiny laugh escapes me, but pain rips through my stomach and cuts it short.I grit my teeth and hold my breath, riding out the wave.The pain is getting hard to resist.My whole body hurts so bad.
“Please, Laird, please… just breathe.”Fenella leans over me.Her salty tears run down my lips.Her hands cup my face, soft and desperate.
I blink a few times, trying to see her for one more time.Just one more time.Why’s there so much blood on her face?Please, stop crying.
“Don’t… cry.”
It’s the last thing I manage to say before darkness closes in.
34
Patiently Waiting
Fenella
It’s getting late, but I’m still waiting for the doctor to come out.Laird’s been in surgery for two hours to remove the bullet, and the red light above the operating room still glows like a warning I can’t escape.
I sit on the chair; my right leg wrapped in bandages.Every few minutes, my ankle throbs, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.When I take a deep breath, it eases a little, but the cold still seeps through my skin.
My hands clutch the jacket Matthew lent me.It’s not enough to block the chill, but at least it hides me.The neckline of my jumpsuit is too low, too exposed, and the black fabric is stiff with dried blood.I keep telling myself it’s just sweat, but I can still smell the blood on me.
“It’s done!”Jessy shouts suddenly.
My heart jumps.I stand too fast, pain shooting through my ankle.My hand catches his, and I hold on like it’s the only solid thing left.Thank God for loyal friends.Even Golden and Matthew already went back to the DA's office with the FBI commander.
A nurse finally opens the door.I rush to her.
“How’s the surgery?”
“It went well, but please wait for the doctor to explain the details,” she says politely.
My breath stutters out.“Oh, thank God.”
A few minutes later, nurses wheel out a bed.Laird’s lying there—pale, motionless, wires and tubes everywhere.For a heartbeat, I can’t move.My legs lock, and I just stare, afraid he’ll vanish if I blink.Is he breathing?His chest shakes up and down in regular motion.Yes.Yes, he's breathing.
A man in green scrubs walks toward me, his tone calm, practiced.“The bullet didn’t hit any major organs.We removed it successfully.”
I exhale, shaking.“Thank you, doctor.”
“One of his ribs is fractured, and he has a mild concussion.We’ll keep monitoring him until he’s stable.Are you family?”
