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“Daisy,” I choke out. Her hands are on my chest, slipping through blood, pressing against the wound. Or against me? To get me off of her?
I don’t know. I don’t care.
“Blaze, you need to get on your back.”
“I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“Why?” Brooke demands angrily. “Why would you do this?”
Well, I suppose I can rule out her baiting me into showing her I care.
“Anything,” I grunt out. “I said I’d do anything for you. I said I’d fight for you. I can’t help myself. You’re my ever...” I take a few jagged breaths. “Every...” Fuck. Who knew getting shot would take this much out of you?
I lean my forehead against hers. Daisy. My sweet Daisy. When this is all over, I’m taking her far away from here. Somewhere she’ll be safe.
“Stop,” she whispers, trying to push me off of her again. “Blaze, there’s so much blood. Too much.”
Blood. Right. I’ve been shot.
So much blood. Too much blood. Too much?
No.
“Daisy. Daisy, I love—” I have to stop to catch my breath again. I’m doing my best to not crush her with my body, but I can feel more and more of my weight transferring to her as my arms begin to give out. “I’m sor-”
“Blaze!” Someone grabs me, rolling me off of Brooke.
“No. No—” I reach for her but come up empty.
“Hey, it’s me, buddy,” Ryan says, hovering over me. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“We need to stop the bleeding,” a feminine voice says. It’s not Daisy. Liling?
A small hand takes mine, soft and familiar. I try to focus on it, try to let her touch tether me to the earth, to consciousness. But I think I might be floating, because my head feels light. No—dizzy. Empty.
“Liling, you need to get out of here.” Ryan’s voice. I can’t see anything. Did I close my eyes?
“I’m his best chance of surviving, you idiot. I’m a nurse, you just know basic first aid. Now take off your shirt. And then keep an eye out in case he comes back.”
“Liling—”
“Do your fucking job, Ryan, and let me do mine.”
Best chance of surviving. Surviving. Am I going to survive?
Brooke’s form flashes before my eyes, and I swear I can hear the way she laughed when I took her to the lake a few weeks ago. I can see her tears from when we fought in the woods, hear her pleading with me.
Stop torturing me.
Just let me go.
Fuck. I can’t die. I can’t die. Not when things aren’t right with her.
“Daisy...”
Something presses against my chest. I can feel it—but there’s no pain. Why isn’t there pain? Am I dead?
“Adrenaline,” that feminine voice says. Liling. “You’ll feel it soon. Now shut up and focus on breathing. You’re not dead yet, and if I have my way with you, that won’t happen for a long time.”
