It takes a few tries, but after getting a good grasp, I hold on to that little fucker with everything I’ve got, wriggling it free until it finally starts to move. I pull it right out, feeling pretty fucking good about myself, until I realize that the bullet was acting as a plug and the blood starts to come.
“Fuck,” I grunt, grabbing the disgusting gym towel and bunching it up before pressing down as hard as I can against the wound. It takes a few minutes before the blood starts to clot, and the moment it does, I let out a heavy sigh, relief pounding through my veins.
Not brave enough to release my hold on the bloodied towel, I keep working with one hand, using my teeth to rip into the bandaging while opening more of the alcohol wipes.
I trail them over his body, cleaning up the smaller cuts and bandaging anything that needs immediate attention. There are nasty flesh wounds on his arms that are harder to tend to in this position, but I do my best before finally deciding it’s time to move the towel.
It’s better than I hoped. The blood has mostly stopped. It’s only a small trickle now, and I quickly clean it up just as I did with the others, going heavy on the alcohol wipes, because I’ll be damned if this man is taken out by an infection. Once it’s as clean as it’s going to get, I pack the wound before firmly pressing a bandage over the top, hoping I’ve done this right.
With all his bigger wounds tended to, I finish tearing off what’s left of his shirt before dropping the soaking material into the oldgym bag along with the destroyed towel and any of the bloodied bandages that didn’t make the cut.
With his shirt gone, I grab the packet of baby wipes and gently roam them over his torso, doing my best to be careful, and I take in the bruising over his ribs. It’s about as bad as it can get. The swelling is horrendous, and the bruising is already coming out, telling me it’s only going to get worse. There’s no doubt that he has broken ribs, but with all this deep bruising, it’s impossible to tell which. I should have picked up some tape to keep the ribs strapped, and an ice pack, but it’s too late for that now.
Once I’ve done everything I possibly can, even going as far as to clean the blood splatters off his face and try to cool down his clammy skin, I focus on me. There’s really not much I can do. Apart from cleaning and bandaging the wounds on my ribs, hips, and thighs, that’s about all I can do for myself. I need painkillers, but I’ll have to go without for now.
Satisfied that he’s going to be alright, I adjust myself in the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, and hit the gas.
29
ARIA
After driving for four hours, I pull off the highway and pass a sign that readsWelcome toCedar Falls. Population: 246. Only the 246 has been crossed out with Sharpie and replaced by 245.
I have no idea where this town could possibly be located on a map or even which direction I’ve been heading for the past few hours. All I know is that I can’t keep going. I need to rest. I need to eat and shower and feel like a human again. I need to put on fresh fucking underwear. But most importantly, I need to make sure Stone is going to be alright.
He needs a good hit of morphine, but without those painkillers, it’s been a rough journey. He’s struggling. He’s still clammy and coming down with a fever, but his pulse is slowly getting stronger. He’s fighting just as much as I knew he would.We just need to get through these next few hours, then we’ll be in the clear.
Slowly making my way through Cedar Falls, I search for somewhere for us to crash for the next few days until Stone is strong enough to travel again, but I don’t have that natural instinct the way he does. He could look at a row of houses and just know which one is our best bet. He knows how to survive, and I so desperately wish he’d pass those instincts on to me.
I drive for almost forty-five minutes before the search gets the best of me, and I end up passing straight through the town and into the rural properties, each large block filled with different arrays of livestock, and I can’t help but smile at the thought of the families who bundle up their animals and take them into town every few months to show them off at the county fair. The wives probably fight it out for the title of the best homemade jam while the teenagers run off to make out behind the main stage, where their little brothers and sisters were performing the ridiculous dance their school teachers had put together.
Passing a few properties, I find myself slowing to a stop outside the only property for miles that bears no livestock, and something in my gut has me pulling into the dirt driveway. I pass through a rickety gate that looks as though it hasn’t been tended to in years, and the further I get, the more confident I become.
There’s a main house way in the distance, but to my right, there’s a caretaker’s cottage that’s barely holding on to life. It’s got good bones and will be just enough for what we need to lay low for the next few days.
Driving up to the cottage, I pull the Charger in behind it, concealing it from both the main house and the road. I pause for a moment, double-checking that the sound of the Charger’s engine hasn’t caused any kind of stir. Once I’m certain that I don’t need to fly back out of here, I cut the engine and searchthrough the array of shit in the back seat, curling my hand around the discarded gun.
This shit is always so much easier when Stone isn’t out cold. His presence alone is enough to scare anyone away, but doing this myself has my stomach twisting into knots. I have no choice, though. If I want to survive this wild world, I need to find that backbone I lost all those years ago.
Pushing out of the car, I slowly creep toward the back door of the cottage, grateful for the sun that’s just peeking up over the mountains in the distance. This would really creep me out in the dead of night.
Testing the handle, I find the door unlocked, and I use the tip of the gun to push it open before slowly making my way inside. The place is vile, and there’s definitely something rotting in here, but so far, there are no axe-wielding murderers jumping out at me. Only the one I left in the car.
Making my way from room to room, and getting caught in every cobweb possible, I finally take a proper breath. There’s nothing here. It’s just about as safe as I am when I’m in Stone’s arms, assuming those arms aren’t inside a torture chamber and about to be shot up, of course.
Giving myself a moment to really take it in, I look at what we’re working with.
It’s dirty. Like really fucking dirty. It’s going to take some good elbow grease to make this place shine again. Every surface is covered in a thick layer of dust, but the hot water runs, and from what I can tell, it’s clean as well.
Giddiness blooms in my chest, and with a newfound confidence, I head back out to the car and grab the bags of crap I’d bought from the gas station and take them inside. Fishing through it, I find everything I need to give myself a decent shower before searching through the cupboards and finding a towel and a change of clothes. Sure, they’re men’s clothes andlook as though they’ve been well-worn for the better part of fifty years, but they beat the blood-stained clothes I’ve got.
Heading into the shower, I turn on the taps and have to wait a good few minutes for the water to warm. Then, not knowing just how long that water will last, I scrub myself until my skin is raw. I even go as far as to use the soap in my hair. It’s not something I’ve ever had to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The hot water lasts remarkably long, and when I step out of the shower, I feel like a brand-new woman, even more so when I step into a brand-new pair of panties. There’s no denying how good it feels to have that layer of protection looking after my little cookie, and it makes me realize how badly I’ve taken the little things for granted.
Fuck, I love clean underwear. There’s nothing quite like it.
Having been away from Stone for long enough, I head back to the car to check on him, and finding him still sound asleep, I open the car door wide, letting fresh air flow through the cabin. I check his pulse for the billionth time, and with nothing more to do but wait, I collapse onto the thick grass beside the open car door, not wanting to wait inside and rest while Stone is out here alone.
