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On his side on the floor.
Bound to a chair.
Material wrapped over his mouth to muffle any screams he might have let out.
A halo of horrifically red blood was on the light hardwood floor around his midsection.
“Kylo.” His name was a strangled sob as I looked at him, certain that no one could survive that much blood loss.
It wasn’t until I heard a grunting sound that I realized he wasn’t dead.
He wasn’t even unconscious.
He was alive and trying to get my attention.
I flew across the floor, dropping down on my knees beside him, my fingers going for his gag. I yanked it down with shaky fingers until it hung limply around his neck.
“Kylo,” I whimpered as his familiar dark eyes looked at me, heavy-lidded from pain. “Okay. Okay,” I said, hearing theshakiness in my voice, but refusing to let my fear prevent me from helping. “I’m going to help,” I promised him, looking around the room, trying to find a phone.
“Leave,” Kylo demanded, voice tight from the way his teeth were gritted together. “Not safe.”
“They’re gone,” I told him. “Where’s your phone?” I whimpered as the halo of blood seemed to grow larger by the second.
I was jumping up before he could answer.
It was no use, though.
His room had been tossed as well, the contents of every nightstand and dresser drawer and the clothes of his closet strewn all about.
I would be wasting time looking for it.
Someone else would have called, right?
Surely, the couple with the baby at least.
I could hear her screaming down the hall.
My gaze landed on something casually tossed on the bed then, and I flew at it like a lifeline.
A pair of scissors.
I rushed back to Kylo, cutting his arms and legs free as he hissed in pain.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” I whimpered, grabbing a shirt a few feet away on the floor, my knees sliding around in his blood as I moved, then turning back to Kylo who’d rolled onto his back, eyes shut, face contorted in pain. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” I told him as I pressed the shirt into his stomach where the majority of the blood seemed to be coming from. Though, there was an alarming stain on his thigh as well.
“You’re a bad liar, darlin’,” he said, voice rough.
“Hey!” another voice called, making me jump, and Kylo curse as I pressed harder on his stomach. “Everyone okay in there?”
I knew that voice.
The dad of the baby.
He had a gritty-sounding voice that I could always hear through the walls when he was talking on his phone as he left or came home in the morning.
“No!” I called out. “Call the police! Someone is shot.”
“I already called,” the voice said, moving closer. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed as he moved into the bedroom.
