Page 65 of A Life Chosen

Gun drawn, he began to walk toward the car. There, barely visible in the shadows, was a shoe. Mathias raised a hand, signaling to Jacques before rounding the car.

The shoe belonged to a man on his back, eyes still open, a series of holes through his chest. Mathias’s gaze fell on another figure, who was slumped against the car. Rayan’s eyes were closed, white shirt blackened with blood. Mathias’s breathing slowed, and he lurched forward. Dropping to his knees, he put a hand to Rayan’s neck and felt a pulse. Mathias yanked off his jacket and pressed it against the wound on the man’s shoulder. Jacques appeared beside him, helping to pull Rayan up, and together, they carried him back to the car. Henri was kneeling beside Tony, speaking quietly into his phone. He glanced up, taking in Rayan’s limp body, and gave a brief nod.

Mathias didn’t respond, his mind narrowing to a single focus. He hauled Rayan into the back seat with him while Jacques got behind the wheel.

“Drive,” he snarled.

The warmth soaked through his shirt, sticking to the skin. Rayan’s head rested against his shoulder as Mathias gripped the jacket, keeping pressure on the wound.

“Hold on.” He pulled out his phone with one hand and dialed Martin’s number. “The apartment on René-Lévesque,” Mathias instructed his second. It was theonly place he could think of. He knew Martin had a clinic somewhere in Brossard, but it was too far. “Faster!” he barked.

Mathias felt the ring of the phone in his chest. He was unable to tear his eyes from Rayan, who looked paler by the second.Pick up, pick up, you fucker.

Finally, the doctor answered. “Is he conscious?” Martin asked after Mathias had briefed him on Rayan’s condition.

“No.”

“How long has he been out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you get him to wake up, even for a minute? It will give us an idea of how much blood he’s lost.”

“Rayan,” Mathias snapped, jostling him. “Get up.”

He didn’t move. Mathias felt his palm grow damp as more blood soaked through the jacket. His chest tightened in panic. They might not make it to the apartment.

“God dammit, Rayan!” he growled. Pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder, Mathias raised his hand and struck the man hard on the cheek. Rayan’s eyes rolled open, and he lurched in pain, his body stiffening.

“He’s conscious,” Mathias reported into the phone, hiding the relief in his voice.

“Try and keep him awake. I’m leaving now—will be there shortly.”

Rayan was writhing in his grip, teeth grinding in agony. His eyes kept losing focus, his breathing so irregular it was almost as if he wasn’t breathing at all.

“Hang on. Do you hear me?” Mathias demanded. His voice seemed to make it through the clamor.

Rayan stilled, pulling himself back. “Tony’s hit,” he choked out, barely audible.

“I know,” Mathias said quietly. He had yet to fully register that fact. That was something for another time.

“Mathias,” Rayan murmured.

“Focus. Stay awake.” Mathias’s voice was urgent, constricting with fear. He’d never been so powerless, standing on the precipice, about to lose everything.

“I…” Rayan started, eyes fixing on his face before rolling back.

Mathias heard the blood rush in his ears. This couldn’t be it. He wouldn’t accept it. Through the window, he saw the lights of the bank across the street from his building.

“Pull into the underground lot. Park by the elevator,” he told Jacques. He would not let Rayan die.

They brought him into the apartment and laid him down on the kitchen table. Minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door, and Jacques let the doctor in, anassistant trailing behind with a large case of equipment. Martin pulled on his gloves. The woman set up a standing lamp as the doctor removed Mathias’s sodden jacket from the wound and cut away Rayan’s shirt.

“Hold him down,” Martin instructed.

“Give him something for the pain,” Mathias growled as he reached across Rayan’s chest and pinned the man’s arms to his sides to stop him from moving. Jacques appeared at the end of the table, taking hold of his legs.

The doctor shook his head. “No time to take effect.” He placed a silver tray down on the table and retrieved a scalpel and a set of narrow forceps from his carrying case. “I need to get in now, assess internal damage.”

---