Page 121 of Manny

Casey is Crystal’s sister and an EMT who helps the club out from time to time.

Lace is crying, but Manny just has this look on his face that resembles… peace. Fuck no, not on my watch. “Listen here, you cocky little shit,” I mutter, checking the back of his body for an exit wound; there isn’t one. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, you got me?”

“Call 911,” Lace screams.

“Casey will be quicker.” Rock crouches to help me move Manny, so he’s half sitting. He holds the phone to one ear and makes the call.

“Here, let me do that.” Hustler takes the phone off him, not before adding, “Need to control the bleeding. Put some pressure on it.”

“Fuck,” Nevada says, seating Audrina down opposite us. “Jesus, this is bad.”

“There’s no exit wound,” I say in a panicked voice. I rip my shirt over my head and press it against his body.

“Manny,” Lace cradles his head. “Oh, my God, please be okay, please be okay!”

“It’s okay,Chantilly,”Manny whispers. “Did I tell you I love you?” His eyes flick to mine as I stare down at him, dumfounded. My hands are shaking. “Your eyes, they have pretty flecks of green and gold.”

“Is it a bad thing that he’s talkin’ nuts?” Rock gives me a look. Clearly, he didn’t hear any of what happened earlier, with Riot screaming at us.

“Casey’s on her way with another EMT. We need to stay put,” Hustler says, bending down as Audrina hugs her knees, tears streaming down her face.

“I don’t feel anything,” Manny says. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Hustler takes over, checking his wound, wincing when he sees how bad it is. He takes one look at him and says, “He’s goin’ into shock.”

“Hey, I can still hear you. I haven’t lost the use of my ears,” Manny complains.

“What day of the week is it?” Rock asks.

“Uh, Sunday?”

All our eyes meet. It’s Tuesday. Then again, I’d be struggling to tell you what day of the week it is without being shot.

“I take it that’s not the right answer.” Manny frowns. “But I mean, I feel okay, just kinda sleepy…”

“Who am I?” Lace pleads, her hands on the lapels of his cut.

“Lacey.” He smiles. “My mom had pretty eyes just like yours, but she wasn’t anything like you. You’re a good girl.”

Confusion. Rapid breathing. Pale, clammy skin. This ain’t good.

My eyes go wide and Hustler grimaces, sliding him up a little. “What are you doin’?” I bark.

“Making him more comfortable, can’t do shit until he gets to the hospital, but can’t sit him all the way up,” Hustler replies. “If they don’t get here soon, I’m gonna get it out myself.”

“Are you qualified to do that?”

He gives me a look. “I was in the army years ago. Helped amputate my buddy’s leg if that helps.”

Huh.

“He’s so pale,” Lace’s voice trembles as Riot crawls through the space.

“Lace? Are you okay?”

“No!” she sobs. “Manny’s been hit.”

Riot turns to me, holding Manny against me as I hold my shirt to his chest. “Holy fuck.”

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