Page 138 of Deceptive Games

Nausea swam through me at all the blood, my hands shaking a fraction. “Should I call someone?”

“You’ve got it. You’re doing fine,” he said with a tight smile.

“You’re going to pass out on me,” I warned, apparently amusing him because he chuckled.

“Nah, I’ve had worse. Now I’m sitting down, I'll be okay.”

“Shouldn’t I call Marco or something?”

“He’d only do what you’re doing.”

“Did he know you got shot? He’s probably worried about you,” I scolded, intending on stealing his phone, but the second I released some pressure from one of the wounds, he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t move or you’ll make me bleed out. I can call him.”

“I shouldletyou fucking bleed out,” I grumbled under my breath, making him snort as he pulled his phone from his pocket to call Marco, putting it on speaker.

It only rang once before he answered, his voice full of worry. “Where the fuck are you, man? You should’ve beaten me home.”

“I’m fine. Had to ditch my bike,” Hunter answered, sucking in a sharp breath when I applied more pressure. “I’m laying low for a bit.”

“Where—”

“Bro, I’m good. I’ve got a hot nurse fixing me,” he joked, and I rolled my eyes.

“Hey, stalker number two. Nurse Donovan here. I’ll try not to let him bleed to death, but I can’t promise anything,” I said dryly, making Hunter hiss in pain as I pressed against the wound harder.

“You took that shit to Rory’s?” Marco spat, surprising me with his anger.

“Didn’t exactly have another option, man. I ditched the bike and was on foot. I was going to pass the fuck out if I kept running,” Hunter answered, studying my face. “I just got lucky that she let me in.”

“You mean you got lucky that Skeet wasn’t there. I’m on my way.”

“No, don’t—” The line went dead before Hunter could reply, making him huff his annoyance. “That prick doesn't listen.”

“No offense, but I’d rather he came and got you. I helped you, but if Skeet finds out you were here, heads will roll,” I warned. “Where’d you dump the bike? Someone should get it for you.”

“Can you ride?”

“I can, but I haven’t ridden one as powerful as yours before. I’ve only ridden up to a 400cc,” I said slowly, taking a peek at one of the wounds to see that the bleeding was slowing.

“Would Caden notice a bike in the garage? He rarely parks in there anyway.”

“Yes, he absolutely would notice your fucking bike,” I scoffed. “Let me put some gauze and a bandage on you now this is slowing. Hold this.”

He pressed against the front wound so I had a hand free, and I quickly set to work on patching him as best as I could. I didn’t have a lot of experience with bullet wounds, but I knew how to slap some gauze on.

“Can you ride it back to mine then? Marco can drop you back off after,” he continued, and I shook my head firmly.

“Not my problem, dude. I did the nice thing by letting you inside, but that’s where my help ends. You have a whole crew that can grab your bike, so get one of them to help you instead. Once Marco gets here, you need to leave, and I have to figure out how to hide your little visit from the guys. I have no doubt in my mind that the Psychos can access the security footage here, and if Caden sees it?—”

“I can wipe any evidence of me being here, don’t worry,” he said as he reached out to take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for this. I owe you.”

I pulled back and started patching up the exit wound, giving him a dirty look. “We’re not friends, asshole. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. No matter what you need, I’ll help.”

“You want to tell me what went down tonight?”