Page 132 of Shattered Veil

His voice slurred slightly on the second word as Liam kneeled to roll the officer onto his back. I internally noted that it didn’t appear that the lamp had broken his skin, but the red lump near his temple was practically forming before our eyes. He didn’t stir as Liam patted along, searching his chest pockets and duty belt for the keys to James’ cuffs.

“Yeah!” He called back. “Racked out. You good?”

Colton’s sinister laugh was biting and tired. “He blew off my fucking kneecap, so no…” Seemingly focusing on his breathing, he heaved through the sass, “Could use a towel…tourniquet…surgery…amputation and prosthesis…”

I had intended to run straight back to James, but as I recalled the sheer amount of blood surrounding Colton, I made way for him instead, for there was no one else here to assist him.

“Jesus,” Liam groaned, “Cas, go—”

“Already on it,” I told him over my shoulder as I rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Rapidly pulling open any drawer that I could find, I finally reached the one to the right of the sink and saw an assortment of kitchen rags. Snagging the largest towel I could find in hopes that it could be tied around his leg, I half-jogged to meet him on the floor.

“Are you coming to help me?” Colton cooed, and I caught a hint of a smirk on his sweat-ridden face.

“You’ve been shot,” I remarked. “How are you smiling right now—what is wrong with you?”

“Mostly,” he panted, “blood loss—oop,” he voiced in a high pitch, “speaking of…you’re kneeling in it…”

“Leg, Colton,” I chastised.

He deliriously chuckled, “I can’t lift it,” and his head fell back to the wall with a dull thump. As gently as possible, I placed my hand on the backside of his knee, and he spoke, “This is gonna hurt like a bitch—AHHH!”

“I barely touched it—”

“I’ve been fucking shot! I don’t think it matters how hard ya touch it!”

Sliding the towel underneath his leg and aligning it right over his kneecap, I warned him, “It’s about to get worse,” and I gave him no warning before I tied the fabric in a knot and gave it the swiftest of pulls.

The scream he let out was so loud that it made my ears ring.

“Sweet MOTHER OF CHRIST!”

Wincing at his decibel, I whined, “Ow,” tying it a second time for good measure before I sat back to look at my handiwork. “Are you good?”

He laughed once more, this time in a disbelieving, pained manner, and I instantly deduced that it was either a coping mechanism, wound-induced delirium, or shock.

“Good,” he told me through his heavy breaths and odd cackling. “Get…your guy. Get…out of here.”

“You bleed out before I’m back, and I’ll kill you—don’t make me deal with a corpse.”

Colton’s weak giggle caught in his throat. “Not today. Go.”

Obeying immediately, I dashed for the stairs again.

Liam stood over Randy, watching him intently, and he noted, “You really got him—startin’ to wonder how much he’s gonna remember when he’s up.”

I only slowed enough at the base of the staircase to ask:

“Did you…”

“Get the key?” he questioned without taking his eyes from him. “Uh huh. Threw it up to Luke while you were with Colt.”

I pointed with a thumb over my shoulder in reference to Colton. “He’s fucking out of it, we need to—”

“Get out of here?” Liam finished my sentence for me. “Yeah—how much is he bleeding?” Splaying my red palms out for him, I gestured toward my pants, which had been soaked through the knees. A quick glance to me made his eyes widen. “Holy shit…how are we supposed to clean up and not leave all his blood behind?”

“You…don’t!” Colton yelled.

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