Week 470 – Without adrenaline from the last minutes, Sasha vision grayed and she dropped

“You’re hit,” Graham said, and although Sasha could hear the panic in his voice, she couldn’t seem to figure out why he was panicking.

She’d hit the men.

Maybe she hadn’t gotten all of them?

Maybe there was another threat out there?

“Hit?” she asked, finding she couldn’t even figure what that meant, which couldn’t be a good thing.

“One of the bullets must have gotten you,” he explained.

“Gotten me?” she echoed. Why was she having such a hard time focusing?

“Hold on, honey, I’m not going to lose you, not now, not when you took them all out like an absolute rockstar.”

Sasha heard his words, but she couldn’t seem to process them.

Something was wrong with her.

Just moments ago she’d been focused on her task, mowing down all the men who had abused her with Graham’s truck. Everything had been clear, focused, and she’d felt completely in control.

Now the opposite was true.

“I’m going to get you to the hospital, honey, you just hold on for me okay?”

When Graham picked her up, a rush of white hot agony tore through her body, and she screamed as though somehow that could release a valve and let some of that pain out.

Which of course it couldn’t.

“Sorry, honey, but we need to go, have to get you to the hospital,” Graham said and she felt him moving.

He put her in his car, in the passenger seat this time, and then he ripped off his shirt. Despite the hazy pain, Sasha did notice how ripped he was, and if she wasn’t struggling to just breathe through the agony she would have reached out and traced those perfect abs.

But then he pressed that shirt to her side and the pain increased tenfold and all she could do was scream and then whimper and try to get away from it when he held it there.

“Sorry, honey, I’m so sorry, Sasha, but otherwise you’re going to bleed out. We have to keep pressure on it. Here.” Taking her hands he pressed them to the balled up shirt, and she did her best to keep them there, some part of her understanding what he was saying was true.

Focusing all her energy on just that one task, keeping pressure on her wound, she was vaguely aware of him getting into the driver’s seat, of them beginning to move. Time had no meaning, it was all one big, pain filled blur.

Then eventually without adrenaline from the last minutes, Sasha vision grayed and she dropped into unconsciousness.