killer, gbd (EDITING)

3

Having been in a light sleep, I am startled into consciousness when my bedroom door swings open and slams into the wall. "Get up! Now!" Grayson shouts, shutting the door behind him. Standing now, I notice the gun in his hand.

The hard thudding of footsteps rumbles through the house. I jump across my bed and go to the window. I grasp the bottom and lift with all the strength in me, but it refuses to budge. "My pants!" I point to the ground near Grayson's feet. Still pointing the gun at the door, he reaches down to grab them and tosses them at me. A gun fires from the other side of the door and bullet spit through the door at Grayson. He curses loudly and anxiety swells in my chest. The sound of gunshots becomes deafening in the small space.

I wrap my pants tightly around my hand and and close my fingers in a fist. Covering my face with my bare hand, I reel my arm back and punch the glass, the padding from my pants protecting my hand from the loose shards. I clear the bottom of the sill, making it safe to crawl through.

I send my legs through first and slip to the ground. Looking back at Grayson, I see him limping towards the window. "Let's go!" I urge, throwing my pants down. I look for the car through the early morning darkness.

Glancing behind me, I see Grayson has started to follow. So I start to run, the cold dew on my feet reminds me I hadn't put shoes on before leaving. Cursing, I jump into the car, glad the roof is still down. Initially landing in the passenger seat, I throw myself into the driver seat.

"Grayson!" I yell, searching the car for keys. I duck as bullets fly into the trees in front of me. "Shit." I mumble under my breath. Grayson slams into the car, ducking as I did. Turning his back to me, he fires over the car door.

"Glovebox." He says before firing again, I watch the largest man fall to his knees before toppling over. I find the keys and shove them into the ignition. The car starts and my foot pushes the gas petal to the floor. The tires spit gravel back at the men behind us as Grayson positions himself so that he can fire over the back of the seat. After two shots he breathlessly sits correctly and grabs his leg, tossing my shoes to the ground at his feet.

"What the fuck happened back there!?" I shout through the rushing wind, checking behind us to see if they are following. But three still heaps lay on the lawn, unmoving.

"Get us to a hotel." He groans, wincing as he grabs his thigh. Bloods seeps into the fabric of his pants spreading to his knee.

"Fuck." I curse under my breath, slamming my palm into the steering wheel. "We're not stopping, do you have wound care in here?" I ask, glancing from his wound to the road.

"Yes," His voice weakens and he puts his seat back a bit. "We need to stop somewhere." He insists.

"No, we need to keep moving. You want to get stuck in a situation like that again!?" I shout back, looking to him for a reaction. He stares at me with a glare in his eyes. Clearly unhappy with my decision, he pulls his shirt over his head, immediately his skin rises in goosebumps.

Tearing a long piece of cloth from his shirt, he fashions a tourniquet and secures it tightly above the wound. I watch his face as presses back into his seat, clearly feeling the pain of his wounds. Though he has been nothing but rude and deceitful, I worry for him. If De Luca favored him, there must be something good about him. The fact that he was with her while she passed gives me the urge to protect him.

"I'm going to get out of the woods and find a place to park, I'll help you then." I tell him, glancing over to make sure he heard me. His eyes flutter to stay open, out of of worry I grab his hand and squeeze it. "Stay with me, squeeze my hand."