**Contains Mature and Explicit Content**
This is a field where no one is safe.
Amira Davis seeks revenge on the man who took her family. She's spent the last few years always having to look over her shoulders for the serpent who lurks in the shadows...
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I drop the vase, not caring where it shatters on the floor, and help Harry stand upright, leading him to the couch. I panic, not sure what to do. I haven't dealt with a situation like this before. Seeing him bleeding out like that is starting to trigger flashbacks of Sasha. My breath gets stuck in my throat, and I try so hard to get some air back in my lungs, but it fails.
"Amira, I'll be fine, calm down," his sharp tone brings me back,
"Harry, you're bleeding out. You're not fine," I manage to say, crouching down in front of him. I pull up his shirt to get a better look, he winces, and I see that the bullet is still inside the wound. Taking a deep breath, I go to the kitchen, running a towel under hot water. Returning to the living, harry seems to have managed to take his shirt off by himself. I place the towel on the wound, applying pressure to stop some of the bleeding. I'm not cut out for this, and I'm completely lost on what I should do. I know this isn't enough. I need to remove the bullet and close the wound, but I'm afraid I'll mess something up and make matters worse.
"Wade is on his way. I called him after I was shot. He usually takes care of this, so don't worry about me," his voice softens.
"Is he close by? I don't know how long you can stay like this. You're starting to look pale," I say, concerned as sweat builds up around his forehead. His under eyes are starting to darken too. How long was it since he was shot?
"Aw, is someone worried about me?" Is he taunting me at a time like this?
"No, asshole, I just believe your our best shot at taking down Maverick." Yes, I'm worried, but it wasn't all a lie. I do think Harry is a vital piece in taking down the snake who took everything from me.
"Well, glad to know I'm important," he still has that smug grin on his face, and I want to smack it off him.
"Harry? You still alive, mate?" Wade calls out.
"We're in the den!" I yell, glad he didn't take long. Wade walks in with a small black bag in hand. I move out the way so he can tend to Harry's wounds. He disinfectants the bullet hole and grabs a small clamp from his bag. I watch as he eases it in the laceration and slowly removes the bullet. Blood slips out, and he holds the towel, adding pressure.
"Here, hold this and add pressure like before." I nod, holding the towel against Harry's wound. Wade looks in his bag, taking out a couple of things. Something that resembles a long sewing needle and thread, but it's not quite exactly. It's a more sturdy material.
"Okay, Harry, I'm going to stitch you up now." I move out of his way again and watch Wade weave the string through Harry's flesh, closing up the hole. He puts a piece of gauze over the stitch before attending to the other serious cuts. It doesn't take long until he's finished.
