Page 42 of Declan

Liquid dripped from my injury, blood that should’ve been warm but felt cold against my overheated skin.

My hand went to my Sig as the man lunged for me. I fired just as the tip of his knife pierced my arm. The motion of his body falling caused the blade to slice down my arm.

What the hell do I do now? I was afraid to touch my throat. It was bleeding bad but I could breathe, I wasn’t dead.

Oh, right, I needed to shoot.

Seconds, minutes, hell it could’ve been an hour later, silence fell and Max looked over at me. I was back to trying to reload my AR.

“Fucking hell,” he shouted and wrapped his hand around my neck.

“I’m fine. I don’t think it’s deep.”

“Fuck! Kyle!”

“Max, I’m fine. I’m breathin’ okay. It’s just a flesh wound.”

“A motherfucking flesh wound,” he snarled.

Declan was first in the room. His gaze came to me and he shoved his night vision goggles on top of his helmet. And suddenly I was reminded how damn heavy my head was. I’d never worn a helmet and after this experience, I understood why. They were heavy as hell and made your head tip forward. Or at least it did mine, none of the guys looked like they were having the same issues.

“What the fuck?”

“House clear?” Max asked, which I thought was an excellent question.

I was all for any topic that didn’t include Declan seeing what happened. If Madeleine wasn’t here, I’d be left out of the search for her and that was unacceptable.

“I’m fine. I got nicked.”

“Her fucking throat is bleeding like a pig. Where the fuck is Kyle?”

“Here.” And suddenly Kyle was in front of me.

His goggles were already gone and his eyes roamed my face, lower to where Max was holding my neck, then to my arm. He did all that while pulling combat gauze from his vest.

“I’m fine. It’s just a cut.”

Oh, fuck, was my voice trembling?

“All right. Let's take a look.” Kyle ripped open the packet and already had the QuikClot dressing in his hand. “This will help with the bleeding.”

I wanted to roll my eyes and tell him I knew exactly what he held in his hands and what it did. But I remained quiet as Max slowly moved his hand and I felt blood start to trickle. Then more of that excruciating pain when Kyle’s latex covered hand poked around.

I hadn’t seen him don a glove, and why I was thinking about when he must’ve done that was beyond me. Maybe to stop myself from passing out or falling to my knees.

“Maybe warn a person before you go digging in their throat,” I rasped.

“Not deep enough to pack,” Kyle said and started dressing my wound. “Cut me some tape.”

Seconds later, I had a wad of QuikClot duct-taped to my throat.

“You need something for the pain?”

“If I say yes, will you take my gun and make me sit in the corner?”

“Yep. But you won’t be in pain.”

“Then, no, I’m fine.” I gritted my teeth and willed the tears not to fall.