Page 124
Story: The Wrong Ride Home
"Elena!" My voice was raw, panic slamming into my chest as I lowered her to the ground. "Stay with me, baby. Stay with me."
I looked around in panic. There were zinging sounds, and I covered Elena, rolling with her, hoping to God I wasn’t hurting her. We found refuge behind a cottonwood tree.
Her eyes fluttered, unfocused, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
A distant, detached part of me knew I needed to call for help and move, but all I could see was the red of her blood on my hands, slick and hot.
This couldn’t be happening.
She blinked up at me, lips parting like she was about to say something. I had to move. Had to get her out of here.
The zinging stopped, but it took precious minutes. I fumbled for my phone, hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the damn thing.
“Hunt!” My voice was barely human. “Elena’s been shot! We’re coming in!”
I didn’t wait for a response. I scooped her up, cradling her against me as I stumbled toward Whiskey Rush. The horse startled, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood, but he held steady.
Good boy.
I climbed into the saddle, holding Elena tight against me, keeping her upright as I spurred Whiskey into motion.
Faster. Faster.
She let out a small sound, barely there.
"I'm here," I whispered, pressing my lips to her temple. "You're gonna be okay. I swear it, Elena. Just holdon for me, baby."
The ranch lights were ahead now, but my vision was blurry because my eyes were burning, and my throat was closing up. The second we got into the yard, Hunt was already barking orders.
"Get her inside!"
I handed Elena to Hunt and dismounted even before Whiskey came to a stop.
“Here.” Itzel had cleared the large dining table. Hunt placed her there and began to take her shirt off.
Itzel gasped at the blood and used a towel the best she could to mop Elena up.
"Through and through," he said, his voice that calm, no-nonsense tone he used when working on a wounded animal. "I think the bullet missed vitals. We gotta get her to a hospital.”
Itzel’s hands were steady, far steadier than mine, as she pressed a towel to the wound. “You get the truck, and I’ll staunch it best I can,” she told Hunt.
I couldn’t look away, move, or leaveher,so I let Hunt go. It felt like hours before I heard the truck up front and the slamming and opening of doors, but it had only been minutes.
“Gracias, Itzel.” I carried Elena out, my grip firm but gentle, holding her like she’d break.
She already has,I thought, panicked.
Please, God, Please save her. Because if she goes, you better take me ‘cause I won’t survive losing her.
CHAPTER 38
elena
I’d been shot,yes. I was alive,also, yes. But you’d think Duke was preparing me for burial the way he was acting.
"Elena, sit the hell down," he barked as I tried to push off the couch.
I glared up at him from where I was half-buried under a mountain of blankets. "Duke, I got hit in my shoulder, not my spine."
I looked around in panic. There were zinging sounds, and I covered Elena, rolling with her, hoping to God I wasn’t hurting her. We found refuge behind a cottonwood tree.
Her eyes fluttered, unfocused, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
A distant, detached part of me knew I needed to call for help and move, but all I could see was the red of her blood on my hands, slick and hot.
This couldn’t be happening.
She blinked up at me, lips parting like she was about to say something. I had to move. Had to get her out of here.
The zinging stopped, but it took precious minutes. I fumbled for my phone, hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the damn thing.
“Hunt!” My voice was barely human. “Elena’s been shot! We’re coming in!”
I didn’t wait for a response. I scooped her up, cradling her against me as I stumbled toward Whiskey Rush. The horse startled, nostrils flaring at the scent of blood, but he held steady.
Good boy.
I climbed into the saddle, holding Elena tight against me, keeping her upright as I spurred Whiskey into motion.
Faster. Faster.
She let out a small sound, barely there.
"I'm here," I whispered, pressing my lips to her temple. "You're gonna be okay. I swear it, Elena. Just holdon for me, baby."
The ranch lights were ahead now, but my vision was blurry because my eyes were burning, and my throat was closing up. The second we got into the yard, Hunt was already barking orders.
"Get her inside!"
I handed Elena to Hunt and dismounted even before Whiskey came to a stop.
“Here.” Itzel had cleared the large dining table. Hunt placed her there and began to take her shirt off.
Itzel gasped at the blood and used a towel the best she could to mop Elena up.
"Through and through," he said, his voice that calm, no-nonsense tone he used when working on a wounded animal. "I think the bullet missed vitals. We gotta get her to a hospital.”
Itzel’s hands were steady, far steadier than mine, as she pressed a towel to the wound. “You get the truck, and I’ll staunch it best I can,” she told Hunt.
I couldn’t look away, move, or leaveher,so I let Hunt go. It felt like hours before I heard the truck up front and the slamming and opening of doors, but it had only been minutes.
“Gracias, Itzel.” I carried Elena out, my grip firm but gentle, holding her like she’d break.
She already has,I thought, panicked.
Please, God, Please save her. Because if she goes, you better take me ‘cause I won’t survive losing her.
CHAPTER 38
elena
I’d been shot,yes. I was alive,also, yes. But you’d think Duke was preparing me for burial the way he was acting.
"Elena, sit the hell down," he barked as I tried to push off the couch.
I glared up at him from where I was half-buried under a mountain of blankets. "Duke, I got hit in my shoulder, not my spine."
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