Page 106 of Seth
“Calm down, sweetheart.” Diego squatted behind the boy, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “We just want to help, okay?” He pulled the device out of the trembling fingers. “It’s Seth’s phone, isn’t it? What did he say?”
“To call Haas?” Ignaz whispered as if he wasn’t sure of his answer.
“Good boy.” Diego pressed a kiss to his hair, then released him from the embrace. “Now, go and bring a medkit. Don’t you see, he is bleeding.”
Following commands seemed to be easier for Ignaz than coming up with his own decisions. He nodded and darted into the house. Diego grabbed Seth’s hand and pressed his index finger to the fingerprint scanner. Within a moment, he was already calling.
“Doctor Haas? Seth Mayr requires your instant attention. A penetrative wound in the abdomen, inflicted with something slim, presumably a knife. The bleeding is moderate. He is unconscious. It’s been at least an hour since he got stabbed. Waiting in his villa. What do we need to do?”
Gustavo strained his ears, but he couldn’t make out a single word the doctor said. When Diego terminated the call, he asked, “What did he say?”
“That if he hasn’t died already, he has three chances out of four he won’t, at least for a few more hours. But we should stop the bleeding, cover him with a blanket, and don’t disturb him much.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here? Bring ice, gauze, blankets, and the fucking medkit. Now.” When the heavy stomping disappeared into the villa, Gustavo looked at Seth’s face. The slack features sharpened, turning the full of life, beautiful face into a death mask. A few bloody scratches stood out against his ashen cheeks.
For the whole trip to Seth’s house, Gustavo was alert. His hands were steady, his mind clear. Without a single misplaced heartbeat, he left the car and examined the wound. He had even started thinking that everything he’d felt toward Seth had been caused by misattribution of arousal. Just like with the Suspension Bridge Effect1, his mind misread the signals and mislabeled adrenaline and fear as romantic arousal. That he didn’t harbor any emotion for Seth apart from an odd fascination and curiosity. Maybe lust, but nothing deeper. Nothing strong enough to make him truly care.
But a single glance at the ashen face washed him in a cold sweat as if up until now, his mind refused to believe Seth could be harmed. He scrutinized the motionless form.
Only an hour ago, Seth had challenged him with a haughty, arrogant expression of silent supremacy. The ultimate loneliness in his features had robbed Gustavo of peace. Now, the man lay motionless as if dead.
His hand shook when he reached to the sharp cheekbone. Under his touch, the cheek felt no warmer than marble. Gustavo’s blood chilled, stomach hardened as his finger pads pressed to the side of Seth’s neck, seeking a pulse.
Tick… Tick… Tick…Slow, weak, but there.
Gustavo blew a sigh of relief. For the first time, he touched Seth’s face and didn’t get his hand slapped. A strange feeling of empowerment brought him closer. His palm ran down the pale cheek, a thumb brushed over Seth’s mouth, and he inched lower, burning with the need to taste Seth’s lips once again.
A sharp sound of a throat being cleared drifted from behind. Gustavo jerked upright.
“Sorry to interrupt your… What were you doing, by the way?” Diego tilted his head then scrunched up his face. “You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
He dropped on his knees, holding a medkit in one hand, an ice pack and a blanket in the other.
Gustavo licked his lips, giving Seth another look. “I just… He looked so–”
“Dead? Is that your new kink?”
Gustavo cringed, grabbed the first aid kit. “Diego, for a change, shut the fuck up. Where’s the kid?”
“I’m confused. Do I shut the fuck up or answer you?” Under the murderous glare, Diego bleated, “Bathroom-bathroom. Throwing up. I think he is in shock.”
“Whatever…” Thoughts about the boy evaporated as Gustavo soaked a swab with antiseptic solution and wiped clean the zone around the wound. Rummaging through the medkit, he found a few ampoules with anesthetics and an antihemorrhagic agent. He filled the syringe with the mix of it and micro-injected the outskirt of the wound.
When he pressed a piece of sterile gauze to the wound, a private ambulance rolled into the parking lot. A man in his mid-fifties stepped out, dressed in medical scrubs.
“Clear out, please,” he said, kneeling next to Seth. Snapping sterile gloves on, he checked Seth’s vitals then moved his attention to the wound. “What was administered?”
“Local injections with Novocaine and Etamsylate,” Gustavo replied.
The doctor glanced up then returned to the wound. The driver got out of the ambulance, opened the rear doors, and pulled out the gurney.
The door to the villa opened, and Ignaz, even paler than before, stumbled out. “Doctor Haas?”
“It just gets better and better…” Haas sighed, then lifted his voice from a whisper. “What are you doing here, Ignaz?”
“I… I’m… with Seth. We are together now.” Ignaz’s gawked at Seth’s pale face. “Is he dead?”
“No, he isn’t. Calm down.” Haas leveled Gustavo with an unreadable look. “And who might you be?”
