12 | blood

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Anastasija Martinez

I pulled the gun out of the glove box and rolled the window down, shooting at the Toyota in front of us. One of the men pulled his gun out of the window to shoot again.

Rafael instantly moved his hand to my head and pulled it down, having me dodge a bullet. Gunshot after gunshot, one landed right above Rafael's first shot.

He pulled out a gun from his pocket and started shooting as well, but the men turned to the other road.

"Fuck," he groaned, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

"Are you okay?" I panicked, placing the gun back into the glove box and turning back to him.

"I'm fine," he grunted while I lifted his shirt.

"Rafael stop at this hotel, right now," I demanded.
"No," he said.

I gripped the steering wheel and turned it to the left, causing the car to go in the direction of the hotel.

"I said I don't need to," he whined, in pain.

"It's not up to you," I kept holding onto the steering wheel leading him into a parking space. I then changed the gear to park and got out.

I walked over to his side and watched him open the door, he got out and I could see it on his face that he was in terrible pain.

He locked the car and I gripped onto his arm for extra support, then led him inside the hotel.

The hotel was old and shaggy. We walked up to the reception and the receptionist had the most horrified look on her face "Should I call an ambulance?" She asked.

"No, just two rooms." Said Rafael.
"Sure, let me check that for you." She replied, unaware if she should listen or not.

"I'm sorry sir, we only have one room available." She frowned.

"That's perfectly fine," I replied, taking the key and going to the elevator.

Rafael grunted at the little step he had to take to get into the elevator, I frowned. I hated seeing anyone in pain, it wasn't anything I ever wanted to see.

I gripped him and wrapped my other arm around his back, trying to ease the pain.

We walked over to the room and I unlocked the door, laying him down on the bed. I played stupid. "Why can't we call the ambulance?"

"They ask too much," he groaned as he laid back on the bed.
I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, a shiver ran down my spine as I looked at the two injuries, each one being worse than the other.

I got up and went to the bathroom, wetting a towel and bringing it back to him. I set it down on his stomach, gently patting away the blood.

"There must be a first aid kit" he whispered, trying his best not to show the pain he was in.

"Okay," I said, getting up and looking for it. I eventually found it and sat back down on the edge of the bed, next to Rafael.

"Now get the stitching kit, and stitch it," he demanded.

"What? I don't know how to, and what about the bullet," I lied, I learned all of this when training for the FBI. There was no need to remove the bullet urgently.

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