Page 8 of Until Death Parts Us

“Some things are just shocking.”

I watch as the paper towel turns red with her blood.

“Let me see your arm. What did you cut it on?”

She hisses, her face contorted as she peels the paper towel away. “I don’t know. That fucking man has who knows what in that cabinet.”

I take her arm in my hand and watch as the blood pours out of a two-inch gash, dripping down the sides. My heart ratespikes, and I wipe away a stream with my thumb, smearing the color against her pale skin.Fuck.

With a deep breath, I step away to inspect the cabinet while she gathers more paper towels.

“I don’t have a fucking first aid kit in here.”

Carefully, I remove items from the cabinet, trying to find what could’ve cut her. I don’t particularly care, but I need to be away from her blood. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the warmth of it on my skin as I watch the life drain from someone’s eyes.

We’ve been waiting for this trip, and Kaspian is out now trying to secure someone for me. I like to stick to a plan, but we’re in here alone with nobody else around, and she’s fucking teasing me and luring me in with each drop of blood that escapes her flesh.

Anna is slamming cabinets, muttering about finding a Band-Aid, while I try to breathe through my need to rip that cut open even more and let the blood gush like a waterfall.

When I dislodge a small toolbox, papers and trash flutter to the ground.

“I’m gonna get an actual towel,” she says, walking to the other side of the RV.

I find the reason she has the cut when I spot a blade sticking through the side of a cardboard box. Opening it, I find a box cutter that wasn’t properly stored, the edge still sharp. I reach in and grab it, drawing the slider down to hide the blade, and then I bend down to pick up the papers.

I barely give them a cursory glance, only noting a couple of names as well as the name of a mechanic shop.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Anna asks, panic in her voice and a black towel against her arm. “It’s not stopping. I’m not sure what to do. I have to find…I need a hospital or something.”

“We’re far from any of those,” I tell her, holding up the blade. “Found the culprit. The blade was sticking out.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” she mutters. “So, do you have anything?”

“I have a first aid kit, but I can’t promise I know what I’m doing.”

I don’t tell her that I’ve had to stitch Kaspian up before, or that I meticulously watched videos about how to clean and close wounds in case anything happens to him again. She doesn’t need to know the things I do.

She huffs, pulling the towel away and tossing it on the couch. “That’s fine. It’ll have to do until I can get somewhere else.”

Snatching her phone from the couch cushion, she types out a message and then looks at me.

“All right. Come on.”

We trek across the snow until we get to the door of my RV. I realize I brought the box cutter with me, so I place it on the table next to my phone and then get the first aid kit.

Anna sits on the couch, blood visible on the fingers still pressed against the wound, and she bounces one leg in anticipation.

I wet a cloth and eye the blade. I could just do it. Open her up even more and relish in the blood. Sure, it wasn’t planned, but who is going to find out? Kas will understand. I think. He might be pissed about me doing it without him, but it’s not like he hasn’t gone off-track before.

I walk over and kneel in front of her. She offers me her arm so I can wipe it clean, reaching out with her other hand to squeeze my shoulder as she grimaces.

The door flies open, and Kaspian blows in with panic on his face. “Quin, Quin!”

He stops short when he sees us, his eyes taking in the scene. “Why is there blood outside? And where is your phone?”

“She hurt herself.” My brows furrow. “Why are you here?”

He’s staring at Anna with wild eyes, and he’s breathing heavily—like he ran all the way here. Suddenly, I’m worried about what might’ve happened.

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