Chapter 11

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Hearing a groan, I felt my body hit the cold, hard wall. My head thumped against it as I gasped under the weight of Alaric's body. Frowning, I opened my eyes and realized that my feet were not on the ground. The damned fool was trying to carry me down the street while suffering gunshot wounds.

"Alaric," I grumbled.

Slowly my body slid down the wall, Alaric moved to stand but staggered back. Reaching out, I grabbed his arm and dragged him closer before he fell over.

"When's Silas getting here?"

"Stuck," He groaned. "Gridlock."

Wrapping his arm around my neck, I guided the sluggish body to the end of the street.

"There's a park across the road, we can wait under the gazebo."

The rain was already beginning to fall. If we stayed out here, we'd be drenched very quickly. It was slow going but we crossed the road and tried not to slip on the wet grass.

"What happened to me?"

"Adrenaline stopped, then you realized what you'd done and passed out."

Alaric hissed as he sat down, ripping open his shirt. He pulled the balaclava off, I took it and the one I was wearing and stuffed them into the bag.

"Get a branch."

"What for?"

"To bite down on."

Oh, good lord, he's going to remove the bullets.

Stepping out into the rain, I ran to the nearest tree and found a branch that was almost ideal. Snapping off the ends, I rushed back to the gazebo. Alaric had pulled out a switchblade, holding it out to me.

"I seriously hope that you're not suggesting that I remove the bullet."

"I can't get the ones on my back, Emme."

While he stripped out of his shirt and the bag, I waited, counting the wounds. Five. Two on the back and three on the front.

"You've lost a lot of blood."

Alaric nodded and then bit down on the stick. I looked at the ones on his back, they were close to the surface and popped out with only a small amount of digging. His body was tight, struggling not to flinch.

"Sorry." I murmured.

I dumped the bullets on the table in front of him, the table that had massive scratch marks on them. Taking his hands, I looked at the bloodied and splintered fingers, giving him a frown of chastisement.

"You don't need to be losing more blood."

"Cut me some slack, you're a butcher."

I hummed a soft chuckle as I straddled the long bench in front of him.

"Three left and they're not sitting in the surface like the others. Ready?"

"No, but carry on."

The stick went back into his mouth. I looked at the street through the pounding rain and wished that Silas turned up so that he could do this. Unable to wait for him, I looked over Alaric's body and picked the first one that I was going to attack.

Pushing open the sides of the wound, I tried to look for it but the limited light wasn't helping. I'd have to go by feeling and nothing more. Alaric used the flashlight on his phone, lighting up the bloody mess. When he realized that he couldn't hold onto it and deal with the pain, he put it on the bench seat between us.

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