A/N: This fic contains potentially triggering subject matter including but not limited to: suicidal references, gun violence, sexual trauma, homelessness, drug abuse, depression, homophobia, and cancer. It may contain inaccuracies. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading!
BOOK TWO - PART TWO - CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Sam kept going even after Cat was finished, growling excitedly and licking Cat's clit with steadily-increasing pressure, still too worked up to stop. Cat looked down and said, "Sam, what are you..?"
Sam's right hand was down between her own legs. "Keep going," she said, her speech muffled.
Cat's knees dug into the pillow, and she gripped the headboard. "I'm really—mmm—really sensitive. I'm not sure if I'll be able to come again," she told her, although, based on past results, she was fully confident in Sam's abilities.
Sam took that as a challenge. She sealed her lips around Cat's clit and expertly used her tongue in the way only she knew how, applying varying pressure until Cat was trembling—and again, it took less than a minute.
"Oh, my God, how do you even—" Cat lost it again—her body went rigid, and another scream tore from her throat. She ground down almost roughly against Sam's mouth, bucking her hips and trying to draw it out. It lasted for several incredible seconds.
The moment Cat was finished, Sam reached up and grabbed her hips with a surprising amount of strength. She flipped her over onto her stomach so her butt was in the air.
"What the—?" Cat responded with a breathless giggle. "What are you—"
Sam went up behind her, grabbed her hips with both hands, and humped her ass roughly. She leaned forward over her, grinding into her until they both ended up flat on the bed with Sam on top—and then Sam lost it. She bit down on the back of Cat's shoulder to muffle herself, then grunted and came hard, thrusting her hips against Cat to draw it out.
Cat echoed her moan, surprised and extremely turned on. She arched her back to press herself harder into Sam.
It lasted a long time; at least thirty seconds before Sam finally collapsed on top of Cat, gasping. "Fucking hell, Cat…" she panted, her voice still a bit shaky.
Cat giggled. "Did that feel good?"
Sam didn't answer with words. She pulled Cat's hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, humming contentedly as she continued to come down.
Cat enjoyed the pleasant feeling of Sam's weight on top of her. Her chest was pressed into Cat's back. But then she felt something else. "Um, why are you wet?" she asked, confused.
Sam choked out a laugh. "Why the hell do you think?"
"No, I mean—" Cat nudged her away and attempted to turn over. Sam lifted herself up. Her entire left side was covered in blood, which had gotten all over Cat as well. They both scrambled apart in alarm. It had soaked completely through Sam's bandages.
"Fuck," Sam had only just noticed. "Ow."
"Oh, jeez—what the heck happened?" Cat helped her use the bandages to mop up some of the blood.
Sam lifted her left arm and looked down. Her bandages were unstuck and a few of the stitches on the side of her breast had been torn out, leaving a gaping wound that was oozing blood. It hurt ten times worse once she actually saw it. She hissed in pain and bit her lip. "Oh, fuck."
Cat's eyes went wide in alarm. "Okay, okay, um… we need to put something on that." She climbed out of bed and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel, which she brought back and helped Sam cover her injury with. She was trying not to panic. "We need to go to the emergency room."
Sam glanced at the clock. "It's after midnight."
"Hospitals are open all night. You need to get that re-stitched, Sam," Cat stated firmly. "I'm gonna go wake up Robbie."
"What? No; why?" Sam whined. "I'm sure it's fine. The bleeding'll stop, eventually."
Cat leaned in and pecked her on the lips. "We're going to the emergency room." It was not up for debate. "Find a blanket or something to cover yourself with—you won't be able to wear a shirt, but I'll bring one for afterwards. Go to the garage and wait for us there."
"But Cat—"
"Now, Sam." Cat ran back into the bathroom and quickly wiped herself down, then threw on some clothes. Then she hurried out of the room and down the hallway to the stairs. She made it to her bedroom door in record time. "Robbie, wake up!" she called, pounding on the door with her fists. When he didn't respond after a minute or so, Cat opened the door and went inside the room. The lights were off, and Robbie and Bryson were asleep. Cat grabbed Robbie's shoulder and gave him a solid shake. "Robbie."
Robbie groaned without opening his eyes.
Cat shook him harder—she was starting to panic. She wanted to run back downstairs to make sure Sam was still okay. "Robbie, wake up!" she yelled at him, choking back a sob.
"Hmm—wha..?" Robbie squinted up at her. "Cat?"
"Sam needs to go to the hospital," Cat blurted. She was beginning to hyperventilate. "Please get up and drive us there. It's an emergency."
Robbie sat up, grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and put them on. "What? What happened?" He climbed out of bed and went to get dressed. He was naked. Cat was unfazed.
"Her stitches got ripped open and she's bleeding everywhere," Cat explained as tears started rolling down her face. "Please, we have to hurry. I told her to wait in the garage."
"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Robbie sighed, quickly dressing himself and then stepping into his shoes. He grabbed his keys off the dresser and decided to let Bryson continue sleeping. "Okay, let's go." Together, he and Cat rushed down to the garage. Sam was waiting just inside, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, clutching a towel to her chest with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. They all went to a particular car and piled in.
"Okay, the closest one's off of Bretton and Whitfield, right?" Robbie asked, backing out of the garage.
"Yes. Please be quick," Cat answered. She leaned closer to Sam in the back seat. "Still okay?"
Sam was gritting her teeth. "It hurts."
"I know. It'll be okay; we'll get you help as quick as we can," Cat murmured to her, stroking the top of her thigh. "Is it still bleeding just as bad?"
"Uh-huh." Sam clearly wasn't in the mood for talking.
"Just keep putting pressure on it," Cat told her, then turned to face forward and said, "Robbie, please drive faster."
"I'm going as fast as I can," Robbie answered. They drove for a couple minutes in silence, then Robbie said, "We're almost there. I'm gonna drop you guys off at the entrance and I'll go park the car. Be ready to get out."
"'Kay 'kay," Cat replied. She was trying to hold it together—she could tell Sam was scared, even though she was trying to hide it. This had not been the way that they'd preferred tonight to go. Another minute or so of driving brought them right to the entrance of the emergency room. Cat threw the door open, helped Sam out, and slammed it shut again. They hurried through the doors together and rushed to the front desk but were stopped halfway there by a nurse with a wheelchair.
"Have a seat. We'll complete intake once we deal with the problem," the nurse told Sam.
"Well, I don't need a wheelchair; I can walk fine—"
"Standard procedure."
Sam sighed. Cat took her hand and carefully helped her sit down in the chair. "Can I go with her?" she asked the nurse.
"Of course. We've already got a room prepped. Follow me."