Helping Jarod
Chapter 2
All she could see from the hall were legs clothed in black. Someone, whoever it might be, was leaning against the wall and hadn't managed to keep the legs hidden. She entered the corridor and saw the still form of a grown up male.
It took another few seconds for her to register that she actually knew him. Very well indeed.
"Geez, Jarod. Trouble sure is looking out for you..."
She mumbled while kneeling next to him. He wore his usual clothes, black jeans, black shirt and his obligatory black leather jacket. His hands were bloodstained as were the towels he had put on the wound.
Parker carefully tugged away the towels. She didn't want to wake him yet. The wound was conceiled by his clothes and Parker grimaced at the thought of undressing him. She didn't know what was more irritating, Jarod in her house or Jarod in her house – naked.
But if she wanted to treat the wound she had to at least get rid of the shirt. And that, considering the growing amount of blood staining his clothes and her floor, couldn't wait.
Hastily she came to her feet again and ran into the kitchen. With almost trembling fingers she opened up one of the cupboards and got her first aid kit out. It was not much, but it had to be enough for the moment.
Hurrying back she found Jarod still unconscious. His face was smeered with his own blood. Tenderly she wiped away the most of it. She saw the deep lines of pain his face bore.
She took the scissors from the first aid kit and carefully cut the shirt. Soon her hands were bloodstained as well. She saw two wounds there. He'd been shot, she realized, caught by two bullets right into his side. She checked for exit wounds and found them, when she turned him over. He gave away a moan but didn't wake.
Seeing how much blood he was still losing she hastily prepared a bandage. She had to get him upstairs somehow without bleeding him to death.
Chapter 2
All she could see from the hall were legs clothed in black. Someone, whoever it might be, was leaning against the wall and hadn't managed to keep the legs hidden. She entered the corridor and saw the still form of a grown up male.
It took another few seconds for her to register that she actually knew him. Very well indeed.
"Geez, Jarod. Trouble sure is looking out for you..."
She mumbled while kneeling next to him. He wore his usual clothes, black jeans, black shirt and his obligatory black leather jacket. His hands were bloodstained as were the towels he had put on the wound.
Parker carefully tugged away the towels. She didn't want to wake him yet. The wound was conceiled by his clothes and Parker grimaced at the thought of undressing him. She didn't know what was more irritating, Jarod in her house or Jarod in her house – naked.
But if she wanted to treat the wound she had to at least get rid of the shirt. And that, considering the growing amount of blood staining his clothes and her floor, couldn't wait.
Hastily she came to her feet again and ran into the kitchen. With almost trembling fingers she opened up one of the cupboards and got her first aid kit out. It was not much, but it had to be enough for the moment.
Hurrying back she found Jarod still unconscious. His face was smeered with his own blood. Tenderly she wiped away the most of it. She saw the deep lines of pain his face bore.
She took the scissors from the first aid kit and carefully cut the shirt. Soon her hands were bloodstained as well. She saw two wounds there. He'd been shot, she realized, caught by two bullets right into his side. She checked for exit wounds and found them, when she turned him over. He gave away a moan but didn't wake.
Seeing how much blood he was still losing she hastily prepared a bandage. She had to get him upstairs somehow without bleeding him to death.