I duck under his arm, take as much of his weight as I can. My shoulder screams in protest. He's too heavy. Too big. But I lock my knees and hold on.
"Good. That's good. Keep going."
We move.
It's not walking. It's not even crawling, really. It's something in between—a lurching, stumbling shuffle that leaves bloody handprints on the floor. His breathing is ragged. Mine isn't much better.
The hallway stretches forever.
Ten feet to the living room. Another fifteen to the bedroom. It might as well be a mile.
"Stay with me." I tighten my grip on his waist. "Don't you dare pass out again."
"Trying." His voice is strained. Thin.
We make it past the couch. Past the kitchen doorway. His feet drag against the hardwood, leaving dark streaks.
"Almost there." I don't know if I'm talking to him or myself. "Just a little further."
He stumbles. His knee hits the floor hard and I nearly go down with him.
"Get up." I pull at his arm. "Dante, get up."
He doesn't move.
"Get up!"
A sound escapes him. Something between a laugh and a groan. But he plants his hand on the wall. Pushes himself upright.
We keep moving.
The bedroom door is open. Thank God. I don't think I could manage a doorknob right now.
"The bed." I steer him toward it. "You need to lay down. Right now."
He doesn't argue. Just lets me guide him the last few feet until his knees hit the mattress.
He collapses.
"Okay." I'm talking fast now. Too fast. The words tumble out in a rush I can't control. "Okay, you're inside. You're on the bed. That's good. That's step one. Now I need to—I need to find a wayto help you. I need to stop the bleeding. Do you have a first aid kit? No, that's stupid, why would you have a first aid kit, you're bleeding all over my apartment. I need to call someone. No, I can't call anyone. I need to?—"
"Marina."
His voice cuts through my spiral. Quiet. Calm.
I stop.
He's turned his head on the pillow. Looking at me with those dark eyes. They're clearer now than they were in the hallway. More focused.
"There's no need."
"What?"
"You can just..." He pauses. Swallows. "Let me die."
The words hit me like a slap.
"What did you just say?"
