I blinked rapidly, realizing that this was real. I looked up, seeing that I was being supported up by my father, and that we're were still in the house. The woman who shot me was dead, so I guess I blacked out that part. I grunted gripping onto my side, as pain ripped through my body. Why couldn't I be unconscious again? "We have to go." He hoisted my up slightly, making me yelp loudly. My breaths were coming out in pant, and I felt like if I moved I would die.
"My purse." I rasped, not wanting to leave it behind. I don't want to stay here any longer then I have to, especially now that I got shot. I've never been in the cross fire before, and I wish I never was. I shouldn't have come to this stupid dinner. I could have said I was sick.
"I can get you a new purse." He started towards the door.
"No, it has my engagement ring in it." I snapped, cringing over slightly, as I broke away from him. There was no way I could walk on my own, so I pretty much fell into wall. He barely caught me before I hit the ground, and sat me how in a chair by the front door.
"Fine, I'll get it. Stay here." He groaned, stomping into the other room. Since he was gone, I slipped my ring off, putting it in my cleavage, so it didn't look like I lied. He came back second later, lifted me up, and dragged me to the car. "Keep pressure on the wound." He commanded, as he drove down the road. I did as he said, feeling hot tears pour down my cheeks even faster. It hurt so much to keep my hand on my side. I thought giving birth was bad. This was much worse.
"Where are we going?" I panted, seeing unfamiliar scenery. He didn't respond. I wonder if he even heard me. He looked absolutely furious, and he was driving dangerously fast. I looked down at my hand that was covering the bullet wound, and blood was seeping everywhere. I squeezed my eyes shut; trying not to think about how much blood I've lost in the last half hour.
"Open your eyes." He ordered. I cracked them open, realizing it was hard to keep them that way. I wanted them to close. I wanted to slip back to unconsciousness. "Your mother would never forgive me if I let you die too." He muttered. "So keep your eyes open." He snapped.
"Ok." I murmured, trying my best to keep my voice steady. He pulled into a bars parking lot, and climbed out of the car. He flung my door open, shifting me out of the car, and pulling me to his side. I felt like a rag doll. Everything hurt even more with every step I took. "Why are we at a bar?" My voice croaked, as I winced.
"I know a guy who can take care of bullet wounds here." He explained, pushing us through the doors. My dad called out to someone, who led us down to a basement with poor lighting. I felt like I was going to get some crazy disease in this room. My dad picked me up, placing me onto an examining table. I cried out in pain, laying back.
"Move your hand I need to see what I'm looking at." My dad's friend rolled over in a wheely chair with magnifying glasses on. Reluctantly I removed my hand, seeing even more blood come out. I grimaced, dropping my head back against the table. He grabbed a walkie talkie, telling someone I needed some O blood, and began ripping part of my dress. I whimpered, feeling extremely overwhelmed by everything that was happening to me. I flinched heavily, when he touched my skin. "You can't move. It could cause more damage." He flicked us eyes up at me.
"Sorry." My voice squeaked, as I bit my lip to keep from screaming. I chewed so hard I was beginning to taste blood, and he hadn't even touched the wound. "Dad, can you please call Jace for me?" My lip was quivering heavily. I need Jace.
"Bit on this." The man handed me a strap of leather. I took a ragged breath, putting it in between my teeth.
"I called Jace." My dad assured me. The man drew out a pair of tweezers, making me clamp my eyes shut. He started to dig into the wound to get the bullet out, and my scream was muffled by leather thank goodness. I gripped onto the seat, hoping it would make the pain go away. It didn't. I thought getting shot hurt, getting the bullet out hurt even worse. It was so excruciating. I couldn't help the idea of maybe kicking this man in the head, but I resisted because it would probably hurt me more. I sobbed violently, feeling sweat drenched the cloth I was wearing. Relief whooshed over me, as the plyers were removed from the wound. I panted heavily, dropping my head back. I heard the removed bullet clang into a metal bowl. Him dressing the wound felt like nothing compared to that.
After everything was cleaned up, I was left alone in the room. I went to couch it, but my body recoiled from my fingers, when I moved my finger around it. I huffed, not believing that I got shot. I'm going to have to see a real doctor after we turn my father in. I need to know if I hit anything vital. It hit my side, probably near my uterus. If we can't have kids because of this, I'm going to freak out.
The door opened, and I whipped my head around to see Jace. "What happened? Your dad wouldn't tell me anything." He was so panicked.
"I got our evidence that's what." I tried to sit up, but I fell back down onto my back with a whimper.
"I'm just glad you're ok." He cradled my cheek gently.
"Me too." I sighed quietly, nuzzling into his hand.
"I got your purse." He opened it, making sure the compact was ok. "I'll call Simon tomorrow. Hopefully we can leave in the next month." He assured me, kissing me lightly.
"Thank goodness."
A/N: So here was the second to last chapter, and I'm excited for this to come to an end in the next chapter
10 reviews for the next chapter.
