I pull my wrist free and press both hands hard against the wound. The blood is slippery, welling up over my fingers and coating my palms. It reeks of raw metal.
I gag but don’t pull away. Pressing my entire body weight into him, I try to seal the tear.
“Iris,” he groans, his head falling back against the stone. His breathing is turning shallow, rattling in his chest like loose gravel.
“Shut up,” I rasp, my voice shaking. “Let me see.”
I tear the rip in his shirt wider.
The bullet hit high. It tore through the thickest part of the deltoid muscle, missing the bone, but leaving a deep, jagged channel. The blood is flowing heavily, soaking into my jeans and dripping onto the stone floor.
He’s bleeding out. Right here in the dark. I feel the heat leaving his body.
He’s the kidnapper. He’s the villain, the monster who told me I was nothing but leverage. He told me I was an asset. A bargaining chip.
Villains don’t take bullets for their hostages. Monsters don’t use their bodies as shields.
“Why?” I ask. Tears blur my vision, hot and stinging. “Why did you do that?”
He drags his eyes open. They’re dark, glassy, fading around the edges as the shock begins to drag him under. With a trembling, blood-slicked hand, he reaches out and grips my wrist.
“Survive,” he rasps.
Then his hand drops. His chin falls toward his chest, his eyes sliding shut.
“Cassian! No. Look at me.” I slap his cheek, hard. His head lolls to the side. “Cassian, please! Open your eyes!”
I press my ear to his chest. His heartbeat is a frantic, fluttery thing, losing its rhythm. He’s slipping away.
I slap him again, harder. “Look at me!”
He flinches, dragging his eyelids back open. They’re glassy and unfocused.
“We have to move,” he slurs, his voice a broken rasp. “The shots... even suppressed, they’ll hear it.”
He tries to stand and fails.
“Get up,” I desperately order.
Grabbing his good arm, I wedge my shoulder under his armpit. He’s heavy. Dead weight.
“Iris, go,” he wheezes. “Leave me. Get to the bunker. Lock the door.”
“No.”
“That’s an order.”
“I don’t care,” I snap. “I’m not leaving you.”
I grit my teeth and push upward with my legs, straining under his frame.
“Move!” I yell. “Stand up, Cassian!”
He gazes down at me. A flicker of surprise crosses his face, followed by something else.
Pride.
Somehow, he summons enough strength to push off the wall. I help him stand, staggering under his weight. He’s heavy. So heavy. But I lock my knees and wrap my arm around his waist, my hand pressing against the hard armor of his vest.
