Page 33 of Blood

I tap Cutter’s arm to find a vein, and then inject him with the morphine. “I need him still. I’ve dosed him, but just in case, Callan, I’ll need you to hold his shoulders. Kitty, hold his legs.” I rip the scalpel from its packaging, placing the scalpel into a bowl, and swab around the wound to clean it. “I need forceps or something to grab the bullet if I need to get it out.”

“There’s, like, these tweezer things I saw.” Kitty rushes over to the counter and grabs them. “These?” She holds up small forceps.

“Perfect.”

“Wait—what do you mean, ‘if’?”

“If it’s not doing further damage, it can stay in there,” I inform her. “I’m going to put my finger inside to see what we’re looking at,” I say out loud so it doesn’t feel so daunting. Their attention is so intently trained on me, I feel the weight of the world pushing down.

Please don’t die.

Strengthening my backbone, I push my finger inside the wound. Cutter flinches and grunts, making my stomach stir, but my hands are steady. “Hold him down,” I warn as I go deeper. Cutter’s body tenses, his legs jerking, trying to coil upward. Kitty lays across them, keeping them down. He wails an agonized growl then passes out. Soft, warm, wet tissue is all I feel. No pulsing.

“I can’t find the bullet. If it traveled, it could be lodged anywhere.” Sweat beads across my brow.

“He looks really pale,” Kitty cries out, lifting off his legs and pacing the floor.

“He lost a lot of blood, but his body will make more.” Just when I’m about to give up hope of finding the bullet my finger scrapes against something foreign. A hard little nugget. “I think I found it.” I gasp, pulling my finger out, and shining the overhead light in the hole. “Lucky bastard,” I breathe, “It’s okay. It went in a straight line. Nothing important has been hit.”He’ll live.He’ll live.

“Are you going to get the bullet out?” Kitty asks.

“No, I don’t want to risk fucking around in there when he can live with it just fine. I need to sew him up and get antibiotics into him.” Callan grasps my face and pushes his lips to mine before releasing me. He then bends to drop a kiss on Cutter’s head, and then then Kitty’s. “We stopped the bleeding with the pressure. That saved his life,” I breathe.

“You saved his life,” Kitty sobs, throwing her arms around me.

“We don’t know that,” I say. I want to cry, but I hold it together.

“Yes, we do.” Kitty’s eyes glass over. “Thank you.”

“I need to get him stitched up.”

Callan brings over a suture kit and places it on the table beside me. “We go through a lot of these.” He runs his bloody hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up all over his head. There’s dried and flaking blood splattered all over his face. He looks like an artist or a serial killer back from a spree.

“You okay?” he asks me with a frown for the millionth time.

“Yeah, it’s been a lot.” I smile without humor, my body starting to uncoil. Opening the kit, I begin sewing Cutter up.

“He will have a cool scar to boast about.” Kitty laughs, but it turns into a sob.

“You’re okay. He’s okay,” Callan reassures her, pulling her into his arms.

“I know. It’s just so fucking crazy—a robbery!” She throws her hands up. “It’s so random and doesn’t seem real. Especially after Dad.” She sniffles into Callan’s shirt.

“Was your dad random too?” I ask, not looking up at them.

“He was found shot. Three times. Two to the stomach. Once to the chest. He was left by his bike in the middle of fucking nowhere.” She curls into her brother’s chest.

“What was he doing out in the middle of nowhere?” My hands tremble a little, making Cutter’s sutures not nearly as pretty as he is.

“We don’t know. Meeting someone we think.” Callan’s gaze burns into me, and I turn to look up at him.

“No suspects have been arrested?”

Kitty scoffs, pushing off her brother. “The cops wouldn’t have a chance to figure it out before we do. Any attack on one of us is an attack on all of us. Dirt is the only prison we offer.”

“I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side.” I turn my eyes to her briefly.

“Oh, Rogue, you’re one of us now. We’re bonded for life. We’ve spilled blood together.” She reaches for my hand as I step away from Cutter, finished.

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