Page 282 of Fatality

Then silence.

Only ragged breathing probably his and my own trembling breaths.

“Get your ass up, Riven,” he says, his breathing heavy. “You're going to get dirt on your dress, and if anyone's going to make a mess of it, I'd rather it be me.”

I slowly lift my head and see his hand extended toward me.

I raise my own and take it, he pulls me to my feet.

Then his hands begin traveling over my face, then the rest of my body through the fabric of my dress.

He turns me around, lifts my hair off my back, then hikes up the skirt of my dress.

“What are you doing?” I ask, tilting my head.

“What does it look like?” He sighs. “I'm checking if you've been shot.”

“I haven't.”

He keeps one hand cupping my jaw while the other drifts down to his thigh.

My eyes narrow as I follow the movement.

Realization hits me instantly, he's been shot.

I slap his hand away, grab a handful of my skirt, and hike it up until I have enough fabric.

I bring the hem to my mouth and tear it.

Riiip.

“The fuck are you doing?” he growls.

“You've been shot.” I test the strip's length.

“I don't feel it.” He pauses, his eyes hardening with an emotion I can't quite read. “You're ripping up a dress that probably cost more than my car... and I was planning on tearing it off myself.”

“Deal with it.” I roll my eyes.

I fold the strip in half, wrap it tightly around his thigh above the wound, knot it, and pull it tight to make a tourniquet.

I step back satisfied and walk around, most of them are knocked out or dead.

Pools of blood spread under some of them, I carefully step over it.

“Ren’s got the file?” I ask.

“He got multiple ones,” He follows me, “still a few hours before he finds your brother’s, if he got it right.”

I crouch and tilt my head examining one of their weapons

I press a button.

A mechanical whir hums through the rifle, and its body begins glowing purple.

“What does this do?” I ask, genuinely curious with a hint of excitement.

I know I should not take a weapon