I couldn't decipher who the sickening screams were coming from. Just a blur of audible panic and fear, being carried randomly across the room as I rushed to Carters side. I recognized my own shriek along with the echoes of 'No's that bounced off the marble floors and concrete walls. A big mess of tears and begging.
Please be okay. Please, please be okay.
Carter groaned, moving side to side on his back, while grabbing his right arm, which was spurting out bright red blood.
"Get over there," Michelle screamed, clear desperation in her voice. "Now. Go over there."
She was pointing Rihanna away from the door, and demanding her to join me and Carter near the bar. Rih quickly followed directions, covering her face with her palms, as if her palms would be able to stop the bullet if it fired.
Michelle followed Rih with her eyes, and the barrel of her gun, until she was standing directly beside me, staring down at me with tears beginning to circle her eyes.
"Where was he shot?" Michelle asked.
I fell to my knees to assess my man. "The arm." I pressed my hand into the bloody, fleshy wound, hoping somehow this would stop the bleeding and pain. The warm fluid found openings through the sides of my fingers, and flooded the back of my hand, turning it red, like paint over a canvas.
"Ya-You have to wrap it," Rihanna said, her trembling stutter revealing her lack of confidence in her advice.
I quickly slipped out of my over-shirt, leaving me in a thin white tee, that had red streaks on it from Carter's blood. I had never done anything like this. I could only go off what I had see in the movies. Apply pressure to stop the bleeding. I felt weak in my arms as I fumbled with straightening the shirt into a rope.
I felt inadequate. Ill prepared. Like I was failing him as I wrapped around his arm.
"Ugh. Real tight," Carter said in agony. "Tight Bee. Tighter."
I looped the makeshift rope, and squeezed it into the strongest knot I had in me. He was still cringing, groaning, and rocking on his back. He was in so much pain, covered in his own blood, and for what? I turned to Michelle, anger surging through me, as I saw her looking on. Her mouth slightly open, the gun pointed towards the floor as she held it at her side.
"Is he okay?" she asked.
"You shot him," I barked.
"I didn't try to," she insisted, before waving the gun towards Rih. "She startled me. I didn't expect anyone else to come in here."
"Please put the gun down," Rihanna pleaded.
Michelle dropped her arms at her side again and looked down at Carter.
"I think it's in my ribcage," Carter whined. "I can't move. I can hardly breath."
I checked where he said it hurt, and discovered another wound, which was only slightly leaking blood. Apparently the bullet had broken through the side of his arm, carried clear through, and then lodged itself into his side.
"I need something else," I said. "To stop the bleeding."
"Here," Michelle said before tossing one of my wedding dresses to me that had been spread out on the table. "Use that."
The long, heavy, pretty dress got balled up quick as I pressed it against the wound with the bullet. Carter was screaming now, since I had to lift his arm in order to do it. I held for moments before lifting his arm back down to help create a steal on his wound. "Keep your arm pressed down."
