I drop to my knees next to Flynn and focus on Lachlan’s voice and not the blood seeping through my pajamas.
“Okay, I need you to clean the wound.”
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter, just pour it over.”
I unscrew the cap to the bottle of iodine and tip the liquid over the gash on Flynn’s waist. “Done.”
“Good. Now thread the needle and tie a knot in the end of the thread.”
I tear the needle and medical thread out of their packets. My hands are shaking and it takes me half a dozen times to thread the needle but finally I get it.
“Now what?” I say, even though I know what’s coming next.
“Now you sew. Pinch the wound together and sew it, just like with clothing.”
Except it’s not just like clothing. Flynn’s flesh is thick and I can feel the tacky layers as I push the needle through. My stomach roils and I swallow back sick as I hold the flaps of skin together and drag the thread through.
“I’m never watchingGrey’s Anatomyagain,” I say.
Lachlan chuckles. “You’re doing good, Hazel. Keep going. I’m five minutes out.”
The thick metallic scent burns the back of my throat and I breathe through my mouth as I haphazardly sew Flynn’s flesh back together. It’s not pretty work, the black thread zigzagging and uneven. I have to make twenty-one stitches to close the wound but finally the bleeding slows.
“I don’t know how to tie it off,” I say.
“Just leave it, I’m almost there. You did good, Hazel.”
I nod even though he can’t see me and sink onto my heels. I rest the needle on Flynn’s stomach and take his hand in mine. I find the pulse point on his wrist and press my fingers there, letting the steady beat of his heart calm my own. I don’t move until Lachlan arrives.
He pushes open the door and steps inside, barely blinking as he steps over Derek’s body. He does a double take when he sees the senator though. “Jesus.”
“What, never killed anyone with a knife through the eye before?” I try to joke, my voice croaky.
Lachlan raises a brow at me. “Can’t say I have.”
“You should try it some time,” I say through numb lips as Lachlan crouches down and expertly ties off the sutures on Flynn’s stomach. “Not bad. Let’s get you guys out of here.”
I nod over at Wright’s unconscious body. “Claren injected her with something. She won’t wake up.”
Lachlan curses. “Who the fuck is she?”
I glare at him. “My best friend. She tried to help.”
“Of course she did.” Lachlan shakes his head but goes to one knee beside Wright and takes out some sort of orange stick. He waves it under her nose a few times and eventually she stirs.
“Christ, you stink,” she murmurs, her eyes blinking open.
“Smelling salts,” Lachlan says. “Can you walk?”
Wright rubs at her face and slowly sits up. She stares at Lachlan. “Who the fuck are you?”
I laugh a little, relief bubbling in my chest at seeing that Wright’s okay. “Wright, meet Lachlan. Lachlan, Wright.”
Wright gives Lachlan a once over. “The brother?”
Lachlan glowers at her. “You need to go home.”
