Bloodline [h.s.]

fifty.

"I know you are, baby, I know. Once you're stitched up, we're going home. Promise."

I began to wonder why Nick never showed. The beach was empty. Not a trace of him or the Allegiance agent. Almost as if he vanished.

Without time to stir on it, Dean pulled the car up the curb. I helped Bee into the backseat as much as allowed while she shrugged me off.  She leaned her cheek on my shoulder. Breathing in her subtle perfume, the only thing left unchanged, I inhaled deeply as I bargained with the universe to let me go back and change this night entirely.

"Jacob," Dean said from the driver's seat, "what is her pulse?"

She jerked away as I placed my two fingers near hear neck, "Enough, both of you. I'm—"

"I swear to god if you say you're fine again..." I said  in her ear as I counted her heartbeats.

"You'll what?" She whispered as low as she could with a fleeting hint of playfulness in her eye. Her chin tilted up to let me place my fingers over her pulse.

All the while her eyes stayed fixed on mine as her fingers lightly traced the back of my hairline. We were sat in the back of her ex boyfriend's car. Soaked in blood. Her heel pressed harder into the top of my thigh. My increasing heartbeat distracted from counting hers.

"A number, Jacob?" Dean pressed, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.

"It's... a little fast." I stammered, shifting my jaw as her nails teased down my back. Her shift in mood caught my attention. Something seemed off. Almost as if she was trying to distract herself.

"We're close. But, Bridget, are you sure I can't take you to a hospital?" He tried again, "Why should it matter who sees you? That man attacked you—"

"Because I don't want my parents involved. If I go there, they will find out either from the insurance records or someone who sees us. I don't care about numbing it."

He nodded in understanding and returned his focus to the road for the rest of the ride, speeding through traffic until we pulled into the car park. She tried to stand before I reminded her shoes were left somewhere on the beach.

Dean unlocked and lead us into the dark clinic to a room. I carefully laid Bee down on the exam table while he switched on the lights and gathered supplies. Her eyelids seemed heavy, and her complexion pale.

"Say something, Bee." I whispered, trying to keep her conscious.

"You're really pretty when you're nervous." She smiled, low enough for only me to hear. The fragility of her grin was almost tangible and I recognised the cracks. It wasn't genuine. She wanted to distract me, not herself.

"Bridget," Dean cleared his throat, putting on a pair of latex gloves, "what have you eaten today?"

"Tequila," she answered, chuckling ironically at herself.

"How much tequila?" She shrugged and a fresh layer of  urgency tinted his face. "Lie down, right now."

"What's wrong?" I asked him as I helped her gently down on to the exam table.

"Alcohol impairs blood coagulation. That's likely why she's bleeding so much. It's fine. Just means I need to work faster." He explained, opening a pack of sterilisation wipes. "Are you on any medications?"