Page 40 of Chaos
I try to lift my hand to touch her, but it's so heavy. Everything's heavy. And cold. Why am I so cold?
"I love you," she whispers fiercely, bending closer. "Do you hear me? I love you. You can't die. You can't."
Darkness creeps in from the edges of my vision. Not much time left. But Rowan is safe.
That's all that matters.
Chapter 17
Rowan
Blood. There's so much blood. It seeps between my fingers as I press desperately against the wound in his chest. Each ragged breath he takes produces a terrible, wet bubbling sound.
"Stay with me," I beg, my voice breaking. "Please, Jace. Please."
His blue-green eyes grow unfocused, staring past me into the night sky. The club brothers form a frantic circle around us. Someone's on the phone shouting for an ambulance. Zeus kneels opposite me, his face ashen as he rips off his cut and shirt, folding the fabric into a makeshift pressure bandage.
"Move your hands for a sec," Zeus instructs, his voice tight.
I lift my bloodied palms just long enough for him to place the wadded shirt over the wound, then press down again with all my strength. Jace's blood is warm and slick between my fingers.
"We can't call an ambulance," Zeus says quietly. "Cops will be all over a gunshot wound. They'll arrest him the second he’s stable.”
"He'll die without proper medical care!" I argue, panic rising again.
"Doc says get him to the compound," Jinx reports, phone pressed to his ear. "Operating room is prepped."
"The compound is forty minutes away,” I protest.
I stare down at Jace. His lips are turning blue. Each breath is a battle.
Jinx mumbles more words into the phone. “Doc's meeting us, bringing blood, plasma. Says he can stabilize him in the field."
Zeus’s eyes meet mine. "If we let the authorities take over, they'll cuff him to the hospital bed. Chaos has too many priors."
My heart hammers against my ribs. I've never felt more torn, more desperate. What choice do we have?
"Fine." I swallow hard. My very minimal medical training kicks in despite my panic. "His lung is punctured. Listen to his breathing."
Zeus looks at me. "What do we need to do?"
“Um… We need to create a chest seal. Something airtight." My mind races through emergency procedures I've only read about. “I need a first aid kit with gauze, tape, a board to move him properly…and something plastic. A flat piece of plastic to cover the wound."
The brothers spring into action. Within minutes, they've fashioned a makeshift backboard from the truck's tailgate.
Mayhem produces a cellophane wrapper from a cigarette pack. "Will this work?"
"It'll have to." I snatch it from his hands. My eyes meet Zeus’s. “Lift the pressure for three seconds."
When Zeus raises the blood-soaked shirt, I quickly place the plastic over the bubbling wound, taping three sides with medical tape that appears from a small first aid kit Prophet holds out. The makeshift valve should let air escape without letting more in.
Every movement as we transfer Jace sends fresh blood pulsing around my makeshift seal.
"Now we need to elevate his legs slightly to help with blood pressure," I instruct, surprised by my own calm despite the terror gripping my heart. Someone rolls up a jacket and places it under Jace's ankles.
"Jace," I lean close, my tears falling onto his face. "I need you to fight. Do you hear me? Fight."
His eyelids flutter, a grimace of pain crossing his features.
