Page 53 of Rangers Last Promise

“How bad?” he asks.

“I’ll tell you when I know.”

“That usually means bad.”

“It means stop talking and let me work.”

The bullet entered the outside of his left thigh. Blood pulses through his fingers, but not with the bright, forceful rhythm of a severed artery.

I move his hand.

He cries out.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“I’m not. That was a warning.”

I cut his pant leg open with the pocketknife I always carry. The bullet passed through muscle and exited lower on the inside of his thigh.

No obvious bone involvement.

No arterial spray.

Lucky.

“You’re going to keep the leg.”

His head falls back against the floor.

“That’s good.”

“You’ll be even happier after the pain medication.”

“You carry that?”

“Not anymore.”

“You’re a terrible doctor.”

“I’m a medic.”

Footsteps pound across the kitchen.

I reach for my weapon.

“It’s Mara,” she calls before entering the hallway. “Kitchen is clear.”

“Call an ambulance.”

“Already done. Four minutes out.”

She kneels on Parker’s other side. Her gaze moves over the wound without flinching.

“What do you need?”

“Pressure dressing from the medical kit.”