I duck instantly behind the crate, but something is heating up my side, and I put my hand to the heat. My hand comes away bloody and panic races up my throat.
Two more shots ring out, and when I pop up from behind the crate and shoot, I catch a glimpse of a running man, wearing a mask, slide into a car and take off.
Fuck.
That wasn’t one of Chip’s men. It was one of mine, I just don’t know who. It has to be someone loyal to Nico.
I’m an hour and a half from the nearest medic and I don’t know what to do, where to go. My mind just wants to be gone, to be out of here, so I listen to it and get into the car.
I take off, but I’m not speeding toward Charlie, our medic. I’m speeding toward the cottage. To Sophia.
I can’t seem to get my mind wrapped around the fact that I’ve been shot, despite how my breath is coming shorter, the pain in my side more pronounced. I don’t think it’s bad, but I have no way of knowing.
Diego has some training as a military medic, so maybe that’s why I’m headed for the cottage. But I know the real reason. If I’m going to go, I want to see her face. One last time.
I speed up to the cottage and nearly fall out of the driver’s side, stumbling up to the steps. Diego meets me at the door, his eyes going wide at the sight of me.
“Fuck,” he curses and helps me into the house, taking me directly to the bedroom. Sophia scrambles up and when I see her face, my shoulders relax.
“He’s bleeding,” Sophia says flatly, looking like she’s not all the way there.
Diego nods sharply. “Get me some rags. Tear up a clean t-shirt if you have to. And hot water.”
Sophia jerks into action after standing there for a split second, and the next thing I know Diego is offering me a bottle of bourbon. I take one swig then hand it back, shaking my head.
“Have to be clear. Someone’s trying to kill me.”
“No shit,” Diego breathes, and curses again. “Alright, well this is going to hurt. I have to look around for the bullet.”
I take in a couple of deep breaths to prepare myself, and Diego works his belt between my teeth.
He splashes bourbon on the wound and it starts to scream. My teeth dig into the leather of the belt, making marks as I grunt.
He sticks his finger in the hole at my side and I scream, but nothing but muffled sounds come out around the belt. I pant, gasping, in and out of consciousness.
When I see Sophia standing next to me, I grip her hand so tightly it probably hurts.
“Sophia. Pixie,” I gasp around the belt, and she squeezes my hand as Diego roots around looking for a bullet.
“I’m right here.”
“There were women after you,” I say, and she frowns but keeps hold tight of my hand. “I looked for you in all of them.”
I don’t know what I’m saying, words tumbling out of my throat before I can stop him. Maybe I’m dying. Maybe the bullet nicked something vital and I’m bleeding internally, because all I want is for Sophia to be close.
All I want is for her to know how much I wanted her, then and now.
“Don’t talk,” she says quickly, placing a finger over my lips. “It’ll be okay. Diego’s going to fix you.”
“No bullet,” Diego breathes, and he finally takes his finger out of the wound. I breathe out a relieved sigh, tears streaming downmy face as he moves the belt from my mouth. “Through and through.”
“Oh thank god,” Sophia breathes, dissolving into sobs.
“Don’t break down on me now,” Diego says seriously. “I need your help to stitch him up.”
“I can’t stitch him up!”
“You can. Your fingers are smaller, you can hold the thread. I’ve got fishing wire, it’ll have to do until we can get ahold of Charlie.”
