Carlton ✔

12| The Redhead's Condo

Someone hopped out of it and began striding towards me.

There were black patches in my vision; my pain was threatening to choke me. I couldn't understand who this person was and then I heard their voice.

"Carlton! Oh my God!"

My heart jumped with content and I forced myself to see her. When she was close enough, I fell into her arms.

I was attempting to embrace her, but instead, my legs became weak and I practically fell on her.

She grabbed me and helped me stand upright, all the while huffing with fear. "Carlton?! Damn it, are you shot?!"

I hugged her tightly, my blood staining her clothes and her perfect skin. I wanted to forget the condition I was in and inhale her vanilla scent. I wanted to die in her arms.

I was falling again but she held me and I held on to her. This time, she leaned down and lifted my T-shirt up to examine my wound.

She was calm when she looked back into my eyes and half-whispered, "You're fine. It's just a bullet graze. It will be okay."

No, it was not okay. It felt like all my innards were trying to squeeze me to death. I never realized that bullet grazes hurt so bad.

Breanna wrapped my arm around her neck, hugged my waist and helped me stagger towards the car.

I endeavored to calm down my mind by telling myself that at least I wasn't going to die.

After I was settled on the passenger seat inside the air-conditioned car, I leaned my head back on the headrest. I clenched my teeth when the wound burned a little too harshly.

My breathing refused to slow down. I wanted to curl up and rest; I was so fucking exhausted, both physically and mentally.

Breanna was in the driver's seat beside me, but she was bent towards the backseat and ruffling around with some things.

Pulling out a cloth, I watched her as she wrapped it up into a small square. She proceeded to lift my T-shirt and press the cloth on the wound. "Hold it there."

I did and she revved up the SUV; soon, we were driving out of the derelict parking lot.

My eyes widened when I realized something. "What about Ray and Ace?!" I asked between my harsh breaths.

"They'll join us later," she said, as she hit the accelerator, "Right now, I need to get you to safety first."

I sank back into my passenger seat and lifted the cloth a little bit to see the condition of my injury. The bullet graze was a long gash of about three inches which was now bleeding lesser than before, but it was deep and harmful.

It hurt more like a burn wound than a cut.

Pressing the cloth back on, I asked, "Do you have an ice pack?"

"No..." she replied, giving me a quick look, "Don't worry, you'll be fine once we get home."

Home?

I was about to question that when the SUV jumped a little and I moaned in pain.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Breanna began chanting, looking over at me with worry in her eyes.

"It's okay."

"Fuck...I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

I shook my head swiftly because I wasn't. I knew it was just a graze, but it was an uncomfortably painful graze; worse than any cut I had ever got.