Chapter 9

Finn half-carried, half-dragged Tyler into the club to my dressing room upstairs. The room was small and it only had a chair, a desk, and a full length mirror. Finn came in and dropped Tyler in the chair.

“We need to take the bullet out and stitch him up,” Finn panted.

“Finn, we have to take him to the hospital! Or call 911!” I yelled.

“Bianca, don’t worry. I’ve been in enough bar fights to know how to patch someone up,” said Finn as he rolled up his sleeve and checked Tyler’s wound. “Besides, if we take him to the hospital, he wouldn’t react to the meds the same way you humans do, the doctors might just kill him.”

I thought about this for a moment and eventually agreed with Finn, ‘right,’ I thought to myself, ‘I should listen to him since he knew more about his world than I did.’

 “Bianca, I need you to get somethings for me downstairs. I’ll need an X-acto knife, a needle, stitches, and a flask of whiskey from the bar. Oh yeah, and a clean towel for the blood.”

“Where would I find stitches in a strip club?”

“What about dental floss?”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” I replied as I walked towards the door. I peeked at Tyler before closing the door, he looked terrible, his face was pale and he was still bleeding from the bullet. There were blood all over his face and his clothes were ripped on the edges. I forced tears back to my eyes as I walked away.

It took me about 15 minutes to get all the stuff Finn needed. I delivered them to Finn and he told me to put it on the desk. Finn grabbed the towel off the desk and started to wipe the blood on Tyler’s shoulder.

“Need help?” I asked.

“You might not want to watch this,” Finn replied calmly after he wiped all the blood away. “It isn’t goanna be pretty.”

I looked at him and he wasn’t trying to make a joke. My eyes turned to Tyler and decided to leave. I strolled to the bar and waved the bartender over.

“Oh, it’s you again,” said the bartender. It was the same guy as before, with the same attitude problem.

‘He probably puts roofies in people’s drinks’ I thought to myself.

“Do want something or not?” he asked, clearly annoyed.

“Long island iced tea,” I answered.

The bartender hesitated to make sure he heard the right order. I don’t blame him. I never had anything as strong as Long island iced tea before; I don’t really care because I wanted to focus on something else other than Tyler’s healing.

“Whatever,” the bartender said and came back a few minutes after with a small round glass.

I quickly finished my drink while ignoring the burning in my throat. I still couldn’t figure out how it tasted like even though I just had a shot. I hurried upstairs to check on Tyler. I opened the door just a bit to peer in.

“You can come in now if you’d like,” said Finn. “I’m almost done.”

Finn took the flask of whiskey and poured half of it on Tyler’s wound. Then, he tilted his head back and drank the other half. Finn patted on Tyler’s shoulder dry with the towel and said: “Alright, I’m done.”

Tyler’s shoulder was stitched up neatly, as if a surgeon did it.

“Bianca, I need to tell you something.” Finn said seriously. “Tyler’s still in a coma, I need to get him some supernatural medicine from my angel friend who lives in the state. I’ll try to be as fast as I can because he only has a few days left…” Finn trailed off.

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