Chapter 20 - Stiched Up

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Pulling up in front of the house, he killed the engine.

"Don't move," he said before getting out of the car.

He came around to my side and opened the door. I unbuckled my seatbelt, and we removed some of the glass on my lap, throwing them on the floor of the front seat.

My entire body had gone weak from the blood loss, I felt almost as though I was floating.

As he moved to help me out of the car, he looked at me. "This is going to be painful," he said lowly.

I looked at him, my vision blurring, but I managed to nod in response.

Carefully, he lifted me out of the vehicle as I held onto him, my right arm around his neck, resting my face against his bare chest.

I winced as the movement caused a sudden burst of fresh pain in my forearm, blood dripping from my fingertips.

He carried me inside, going into one of the downstairs bathrooms; he set me down gently on the edge of the bathtub.

I watched as he grabbed a towel and spread it on the ground below me. He opened one of the cabinets and retrieved a first-aid kit.

Kneeling beside me, he turned to face me, "Hailey..."

His voice sounded like a distant echo in my mind.

"Hailey... try to stay conscious, okay?"

"Okay..."

He untied his T-shirt from around the wound.

The warm crimson liquid spewed out of the six-inch gash.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of it. The tears that were threatening to leave my eyes were now flowing like a river had burst its banks.

Romero compressed the wound in order to stop the uncontrollable bleeding. He looked at my tear stained face, sympathy weighing heavily in his eyes as he said the next words.

"We have to disinfect it, and you're going to need stitches," he stated calmly.

Involuntarily, my eyes stung as fresh tears brimmed, hearing those words. I just nodded in response.

After a few moments had passed, he stopped compressing the wound and grabbed a bottle of the devil's serum; mentholated alcohol.

"Oh God," I muttered to myself. I tried my best to mentally prepare for the impending pain.

"Just breathe. It will be over soon," he tried to console me.

He poured the liquid fire onto my arm.

"Ahhhhhh!" I screamed.

I saw concern flash across Romero's eyes as the pain engulfed me.

I screamed out again in pain. I gripped firmly onto his shoulder, squeezing tightly.

Come on Hailey, you can do this, you can do this. I tried to numb myself as he began stitching the wound. I was now panting in anguish. I glanced down and saw that he was almost through.

He bandaged the wound. "The worst is over," he said as his thumb gently brushed the skin near the bandage.

My skin tingled at the sensation.

"Thank you," I looked at him with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude and something else.

He let his eyes run over my features for a moment. "You're welcome," he said softly before standing up again.

"You need to rest, I'll clean this place up when you are done in here," he looked around us.

I looked down at the bloodied floor, the scarlet shade of my blood dripped down the side of the bathtub. The bathroom nearly perfectly replicated a crime scene, but still nothing compared to the grotesque scenes we'd seen outside of these walls.

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