Page 8 of Stay Little Fighter

CHLOE

NOW

Ibite down on my clenched fist to stop myself from screaming.

“I’m sorry, Duchess,” Damon mumbles, pressing down on the bullet wound to slow the bleeding.

The first aid kit Asshole One and Asshole Two insisted was in the van is nothing more than three antiseptic wipes and a handful of Band-Aids. Certainly nothing that will stop me from bleeding out.

Damon’s using his sweatshirt to press against the wound because the rags they offered us looked filthy at best.

“How did you make it look like it was nothing when you got shot?” I half laugh, half sob. Making light of being shot and kidnapped is an interesting choice on my part, but I need to focus on anything other than the pain.

He huffs out a laugh. “It was a flesh wound, and it also wasn’t my first time. Remind me when I’m not busy saving your life to tell you about the time both me and Ronan got shot by one of the women Dad kidnapped for us to marry.”

I blink up at him, my lips parted in surprise and amusement. “So you kind of deserved it then?”

He glares down at me. “I didn’t kidnap her.”

“But you were going to go along with it,” I challenge.

“You know what Salvatore’s like.” He sighs, glancing up at the front of the van as if he’ll be able to make out where we’re going.

We’ve been on the road for at least twenty minutes, but the dark roads all look the same as trees blur together as we pass.

The assholes in the front seat haven’t bothered to bind either of us, but I’m in no state to make an escape attempt right now.

“I don’t think Ronan would have gone through with it in the end. He could barely even bring himself to talk to the poor girl. I doubt he would have been able to get through vows to anyone other than you.”

My chest clenches at the reminder that he never gave up on finding me, and I try to tell myself this time won’t be any different.

“It’ll be okay, Duchess. They’ll find us.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” He raises a brow. “That overgrown puppy dog you call a bodyguard is like a fucking bloodhound when it comes to you. And you think Ronan abandoned his legacy just to let you slip through his fingers?”

I bite down on my bottom lip as I mull over his words.

He’s right. If there’s anything I’m absolutely sure of, it’s that they won’t give up on finding me. But how long will it take them? How long can I bleed like this before I get medical attention? How long before I get some kind of infection from the wound not being sterilized?

Damon must sense my hesitance because his free hand moves to brush over my cheek. “I won’t let you die, Chloe. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” I whisper, my chest aching with how desperately I want them to be true.

“Duchess, I haven’t spent my life sacrificing my own happiness at every turn to protect you, just to let you die now.”

I can’t wrap my head around the words that are coming out of his mouth, not when he’s shown me nothing but contempt for almost as long as I can remember.

He stares down at me for long seconds, waiting for me to process the words he’s saying. “I’ve earned your doubt, Chloe, but I’m going to earn your forgiveness as well. I’ll apologize every day for the rest of my life and into the next if that’s what it takes.”

“I don’t—” I’m cut off by the van slowing to a stop, and Damon’s attention pulls to the front window.

The fact that the highly trained assailants haven’t bothered to restrain either of us has been niggling at the back of my mind since they closed the doors on us, and both chose to sit in the front seat instead of monitoring us.

I’m a non-issue, seeing as I have a bullet wound and have no way of protecting myself against two fully grown men with guns, but surely they’re not banking on Damon staying compliant to keep me safe.

I’m not even confident he’s not going to bail the second he gets the chance.