No, no, this can’t happen.
I frantically search the room, spotting the perfect hole in the window where the bullet had come through before settling on a club uniform shirt folded on top of the desk. I grab it, pressing it to the wound pulsing blood in her abdomen.
She sucks in a couple of shaky breaths as I hold the fabric to her skin, trying to stem the bleeding.
“It hurts,” her voice is steady, despite the shake in her breath and body, “Lex.”
“I know, little bird,” I can’t think straight. I pat my pockets, looking for my phone.
She was safe. She was supposed to be safe.
I come up empty, my phone nowhere on my body but I need help. The music is too loud for anyone to hear me which means I need to get out of here.
Blood stains the crisp white shirt still half way unbuttoned, Wren’s blood smearing across my skin.
This was no way the end for us. We had only just begun.