Page 88 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

“Now, use the tweezers,” Tank continues. “Get a good grip on it and pull it out slowly. I take a deep breath, then carefully insert the tweezers into the wound. I feel the bullet, cold and hard, and grip it with the tweezers. If he’s in any pain, he hides it well.

“Got it,” I say, relief flooding through me.

“Good job,” Tank says through gritted teeth. “Now clean it again. Make sure it’s really clean.”

I grab another antiseptic wipe and clean the wound again, making sure there’s no debris left inside. Tank’s body relaxes slightly, and I can see the tension easing from his face.

“Alright,” Tank says, his voice a bit weaker now. “Apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Use the gauze pads.”

I grab the gauze pads, pressing them firmly against the wound. Tank winces again, his breath coming in short gasps.

“Sorry, sorry,” I say quickly, my heart pounding.

“You’re doing fine,” Tank reassures me. “Just hold it there for a minute. Let it soak up the blood.”

I press down, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping into the gauze. I glance up at Hawk and Vance, who give me encouraging nods.

“Now you need to wrap it. Use the roll of bandage. Start from the bottom and work your way up, making sure it’s tight but not too tight.”

I pick up the roll of bandage, my hands still shaking as I begin to wrap it around his torso. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” Tank breathes. “That’s good. Keep it snug.”

“Perfect,” Tank says, giving me a small, strained smile. “You did great, Izzy.”

I sit back, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Thank God.”

Hawk steps forward, resting a hand on Tank’s shoulder. “You’re a tough son of a bitch, you know that?”

Tank chuckles weakly. “Had to be hanging around with you guys. Give me a few tylenol and I’ll be back to normal in a few hours.”

“We still don’t know where Laina is,” I say then, staring at all three of them.

“No. I got the location from our little Dead Demon friend,” Vance says. “But we need to rest before anyone is going anywhere.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tank says, lifting himself up off the couch, but Hawk’s hand lands on his shoulder.

“Sit your ass back down.”

Tank grumbles but obeys, sinking back into the worn cushions. “Alright, alright. Just don’t get used to bossing me around.”

I nod, but the adrenaline and exhaustion are starting to catch up with me. My hands are still trembling, and I feel a mix of relief and lingering fear. “I just need a minute,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

I give them a small, grateful smile before turning and heading down the hall. The small bathroom at the end of the hall is a welcome sight. I push the door open and step inside, closing it behind me with a soft click. The dim light casts a soft glow over the small space, and I lean against the sink, taking a deep breath.

The mirror reflects my tired face, smeared with dirt and blood. I reach for the faucet, turning on the cold water and splashing my face, trying to wash away the grime and the memories of the night. The cool water feels like a lifeline, grounding me.

I peel off my bloodstained clothes, each piece dropping to the floor with a sense of finality. Stepping into the shower, I turn on the hot water and let it cascade over me, the steam rising and enveloping me in a comforting warmth. The water pounds against my skin, washing away the blood, the sweat, and thefear. I close my eyes, leaning my head against the cool tile, and let the water do its work.

The door creaks open. I glance over my shoulder, startled, to see Hawk standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he says softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Yeah, I just needed a minute to breathe.”

Hawk moves closer, his presence comforting. “It’s been a hell of a night.”

I laugh softly, the sound hollow. “That’s an understatement.”

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