Repeat After Me A Stab Wound is Not a Graze
Hazel
“Flynn!” I crash down onto my knees beside Flynn, my hands flitting over the growing dark stain on his hoodie. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I pull the sodden material up, dread dragging at my bones when I see how deep the knife cut. If we get out of this, Flynn and I are going to have a serious talk about what constitutes a graze.
Blood is still seeping out of the gash in his side and I tug my sweater off, bundling the material up against the wound to stem the bleeding. His shoulder is bleeding too but the wound from the scalpel doesn’t look too deep.
Derek must have taken my phone, so I leave Flynn for two seconds and search Wright’s pockets. I don’t know Lachlan’s number, but Flynn left his phone behind so I call that, hoping like hell Lachlan picks up.
The ring tone echoes through the room and I try not to think about the fact there are two dead bodies on either side of me. Or that Wright is unconscious with god knows what in her system.
Finally, he picks up.
“Lachlan?”
“Hazel? What is it?”
“Flynn’s been stabbed. He’s unconscious. I’m trying to stop the bleeding but I… I don’t know how much blood he’s already lost.”
“Where are you?”
“The clinic.”
“Is he still bleeding?”
I take my hand off my sweater to find it covered in crimson blood, my sweater almost saturated. My voice shakes. “Yes.”
“Okay, you need to close the wound.”
“What?”
A car engine rumbles through the phone. “I’m on my way, Hazel, but it can’t wait. I’m going to talk you through it, okay?”
No. Not okay. Very much not okay.
“Hazel, breathe. He’s going to be fine.”
“I killed the senator,” I blurt out because my mind is fracturing, panic trembling through my body.
“Good,” Lachlan says. “Now can you do this?”
I swallow shards of glass and focus on Lachlan’s steady voice. “Yes.”
“I need you to find a needle and thread. There are probably some out in the triage area.”
I glance up at Flynn’s face, his already pale skin looking ashen. “I don’t want to leave him.”
“Hazel. Needle and thread and antiseptic. Go find them.”
I close my eyes and snatch up the phone. I force myself to standing, then I step over Derek’s body and limp to the triage area. I go to the nearest medical cart and start pulling open drawers until I find what I need.
“I have everything,” I say, wedging the bottle of iodine in the crook of my elbow as I rush back to Flynn.
“Good.”
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 watching Grey’s Anatomy again,” 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.”
Wright looks over at me. “Sorry, I don’t take orders from men. I’m going wherever Hazel’s going.”
Lachlan scowls but I glance up at him. “Please, we need to make sure she’s okay.”
He crosses his arms but relents. “Fine.”
My gaze drifts back to Flynn’s closed eyes. “He’s not waking up,” I say.
“He needs blood.” For once, Lachlan’s voice is gentle. “We have some at home.”
Of course they do.
Fridge essentials: milk, eggs, and O negative.
I glance over at the senator. He’s lying on his back, his good eye frozen open while blood seeps from the other. I look away before I’m sick.
I guess I managed to get my wish. Flynn didn’t kill the senator. I did.
“What do we do about the bodies?” I ask.
“We let them be found.” Lachlan stands up and takes the memory stick Ana gave us out of his pocket. He places it on the senator’s chest. “Let the world know what he’s done.”
We leave Tommy’s car in the parking lot and Lachlan drives us home. As soon as we’re back, Lachlan lies Flynn on the kitchen island and hooks him up to an IV and a blood bag.
Wright eventually convinces me to leave his side to take a shower.
I limp into the stall, a deep purple bruise already bleeding out over my shin.
The pain has eased a little though and I stand in the shower, staring at the stone tiles as red water swirls down the drain.
When it finally runs clear, I suck in air, my breath hitching on a sob.
Hot water suffocates me and when I close my eyes, I see the blade piercing Claren’s eye. I scramble out of the shower and reach the toilet just in time as I throw up the contents of my stomach.
I rest my head on my arm, crying against the toilet seat. Soft footsteps stop beside me, and I shudder as a towel is draped over my back.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” Wright says, rubbing circles on my back.
I wrap the towel around me and curl into her, letting her hold me as I cry, my body wracked with adrenaline and fear, my head pounding.
I want Flynn. I want him to hold me and grin that boyish smile and make atrociously inappropriate jokes. But all I can see is him lying there unconscious, his stomach soaked in blood.
“I love him,” I sob.
Wright kisses my hair. “I know.”
We stay like that until I start to shiver and then Wright helps get me dressed in one of Flynn’s T-shirts and a pair of sweats that I have to fold up around my ankles.
“Are you okay?” I ask Wright.
She sits down next to me on the bed. “A little drowsy, but fine. Pissed off I didn’t see Claren coming with the damn needle.”
I rest my hand on top of hers. “You saved our lives, Wright.”
She shrugs a shoulder and smirks. “Perks of having a vigilante as a best friend.”
The door to the bedroom opens and Lachlan comes in carrying Flynn. He lays him down on the bed and my heart twists. I hate seeing him like this, his face blank, a bandage wrapped around his waist. Fuck, we came so close to dying today.
Wright nudges my shoulder and gets up off the bed. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.”
Both her and Lachlan leave and I climb fully onto the bed, lying next to Flynn with my hand on his chest.
I must fall asleep because I wake to Flynn’s lips on my forehead.
“What does a knife say when you’re running late?” he murmurs.
I half laugh, half sob as I open my eyes to see Flynn’s beautiful face smiling at me.
“I don’t know. What does a knife say when you’re running late?”
Flynn grins down at me, looking tired but alive. “Chop, chop.”