All of a sudden Connor launched up, chair still swinging off his wrist, and slammed into TJ.
The two men scuffled, but everything was a little blurry.
The world around her was starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges.
Like she was here but not really here.
Her leg was burning where the bullet had gone in earlier today and Lacey wondered absently whether it was infected.
She sagged and the added weight on her arms and shoulders was unbearable, or at least it would be if she wasn’t fading in and out.
Suddenly there were hands on her and she screamed.
“It’s me, Lace, its Connor,” a voice soothed, and she blinked and tried to clear her vision enough to make the face come into focus.
It really was him.
“TJ?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Dead,” he replied. “Hold on, I’ll get you down.”
Supporting her weight against his, Connor cuts the rope and as her arms drop Lacey cried out against the sudden onslaught of pain as her blood deprived limbs suddenly get blood flow restored.
“I got you,” Connor croons in her ear, as he cuts the rope binding her wrists, then very gently scoops her into his arms.
“It’s so hot,” she murmured, her head lolling to rest on Connor’s broad shoulder, the heat from the gunshot wound was spreading through her body like wildfire.
“Its okay, just hold on, I’ll get you help,” Connor said, his voice panicked, but it also sounded faraway. “Lacey, stay with me. Don’t you pass out on me. Hold on, Lace. Don’t give up on me.”
She wanted to do as he begged.
She really did.
But the culmination of the shooting, the gunshot, seeing her best friend lying dead in a pool of blood, the explosion, TJ getting her back was all too much for her exhausted body to take and Lacey found her eyes fluttering closed and her mind going blank.