“Don’t do it,” I mutter under my breath. “Do not fucking do it.”
But I’m already crawling back to Seven’s body, too far gone to turn around and escape like I should. Even though he’s cruel, even though he’s deranged, I can’t deny the part of me that calls to him and wants him. Maybe that makes me just as fucked up—maybe more—but I’m tired of pretending that I can just walk away from him and be okay. He’s under my skin now, and there’s no way I’m getting him out of my system. I don’twantto.
I crawl to his body, not caring that I’m kneeling in his blood. I have to inspect his injuries, and I can’t do that without getting a little messy.
With all my strength, I manage to flip him onto his back, but there’s an awful squelching noise that accompanies the movement, and bile creeps up my throat. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to look down at the horrible injuries covering his skin. Dozens of small gashes on his arms and neck are leaking blood, but that’s not what concerns me.
Grabbing Seven’s blade, I cut away the fabric covering his legs, exposing the wound on his thigh. As soon as it’s uncovered, I gasp, holding my hand to my mouth as dread hardens in the pit of my stomach.
The gash cut into his thigh is at least five inches in length, and with every beat of his heart, dark red liquid gushes from the wound, sliding down his thigh and joining the growing halo of blood on the floor. It’s no wonder he looks so pale, so lifeless.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “What… what am I supposed to do…”
In a trance, I lean forward, rifling through Seven’s pockets in the hopes I might find something useful. All I discover are more weapons, a syringe filled with a strange blue liquid, and Seven’s locked phone—nothing that could save his life.
“Dammit.”
I gaze desperately at the growing pool of blood. I could try calling for help, but I have no idea where my phone is. Besides, I doubt he’ll make it the two hours it takes for anyone to show up. Once they do, they’ll be more interested in arresting Seven than saving his life. Thinking about it, I doubt he would receive any medical care at all once they figure out he’s Red 7.
At the height of my despair, my mind travels to Saffron. She would know what to do. She always knows how to make everything better.She’s seeing a doctor… at least she was the last time I spoke to her.If I can get his number from her, maybe he’d be willing to help. It’s a long shot, but it’s my only option right now.
I stare down at the locked phone in my hands.What would Seven use as his password? An important date? A birthday?
Randomly, I type in the four digits to my birthday, expecting it to lock me out. But to my utter surprise, the phone opens.
Seven… you crazy bastard.
“I can’t believe that worked,” I whisper, staring down at the lit screen. With trembling fingers, I type in Saffron’s phone number that I know by heart, and wait for it to ring.
She picks up on the fifth one. “Hello?”
“Saffron,” I sob. “Saffron, it’s me. It’s Grace.”
“Grace! Oh my God, where are you? Are you hurt? I’m getting in my car right now to come get yo?—”
“Saffron, wait. You can’t.”
“Like hell I can’t! I don’t care who that motherfucker is, I’m going to rip his throat out and piss on his corpse.”
My eyes flit to Seven’s lifeless body, a sob working its way up my throat. “You may not have to…”
“What? Grace, please, just tell me where you are.”
“Are you still seeing Dr. Herrera?” I blurt out, desperation clouding my mind.
“What the hell does that matter? I?—”
“Please, Saffron,” I beg. “Please, just answer me.”
She’s silent for a long beat, and then, “He’s actually here with me now. Why, Grace? What’s going on?”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t have time to explain. I promise I will eventually, but I can’t right now. I need… I need to know how to fix a nicked thigh artery.”
“....a nickedwhat?”
“Saffron,please!” My eyes well with unshed tears. “Please! Please, just put him on the phone.”
There’s a shuffling noise, and a soothing male voice says, “Hello… this is Dr. Herrera.”
