He was kneeling in it.
His jeans would be stained forever.
Pressure wrapped my upper arm in a vice, causing me to cry out. “Henley.”
I think tears clouded my vision, but it could’ve been the blood loss bringing me to the brink of unconsciousness.
Large arms scooped me up, gracefully taking me away from the puddle of blood. But in the distant chasm of my mind, I thought I felt a trickle down the side of my arm.
I was too scared to look.
“You’re fine,” Henley reassured, finally deciding to fucking speak.
Took him long enough.
As he carried me down the hall, my head lolled against his shoulder. He turned a corner, and I swore I saw a body lying in a heap at the end of the hall.
“Was I shot?” I asked. I couldn’t feel my arm anymore.
“Grazed,” he answered.
“So I was shot.”
“Don’t think about it, Grace.”
I turned my head without thinking, looking down to where the fire had blazed before.
He kicked up his elbow, forcing my head back against his chest. “Don’t look.”
“Is it bad?”
He was quiet a moment, which was confirmation enough. “It’s deep, but I can stitch it?—”
My eyes popped wide. “You’regoing to stitch me? No, I need a hospital. Someonequalified?—”
“I’ve stitched myself plenty of times?—”
“You’re not a doctor!”
“Grace!” His booming voice had me snapping my mouth shut. “You’re going to be fine.” There was worry laced deep in his words, though. Enough to tell me he was concerned and…angry?
I didn’t want to think too far into it.
“Henley, the girls?—”
“Austin and Booker are pulling up now.”
I heard tires screeching on pavement, and I blinked up at the sky. When had we gotten outside?
Doors slammed, followed by the pounding of boots. “Where are they?”
That was Booker. I didn’t want to look at them. I probably looked pathetic, bleeding in Henley’s arms.
“Inside. Grace said they were in the sauna last she knew,” Henley told them.
“She okay?” Austin asked, concern evident in his tone.
A door opened, and I found it was the passenger side of Henley’s truck as he gently placed me on the seat. “She will be.”
