NIGHTMARE

chapter 33

Y/n's POV.

His blood covered my hands as we hobbled to the car. No way was he letting us in the lambo with this mess. Kokonoi had shoved us in the SUV, and Mikey was sprawled across the back seat, clutching his leg and squeezing his eyes shut, clearly effected by the pain.

"I'm going to wrap your dress around it; we don't have anything else to use; we have to stop the blood," Kokonoi told me. I just nodded, unable to force anything out of my mouth.

"Get in the driver's seat; you're going to have to be the one to get us home," Kokonoi told me as I gulped. The pressure was almost unbearable.

"Okay," was all I was able to say.

"Why not you?"

"Someone needs to drive Mikey's car home," he told me. "Okay, fair enough, I was driving.

"I'll go first; you just have to follow me for directions," he told me.

"You better drive fucking fast," Mikey grunted from the back seat. I turned around to face him.

"I've never driven above one hundred and ten kilometers per hour; Japan has speed limits, and I prefer to follow them!" I raised my voice, stressed out as hell.

"One hundred and ten! Holy Mary, mother of God, I'm going to die on the road," so he had been shot; maybe I could ignore his rude comments.

"You're not going to die, Mikey! We're going to get back," I assured him, slamming shut the driver's door and buckling in the seat belt.

Holy moly, now I was going to be the driving maniac.

"If we crash at speed, it's your fault," I warned him, backing out of the car space and continuing down the driveway.

"Just get the hell out of here!" he groaned, slapping the back seat weakly with his hand.

"Alright, alright!" I put on my blinker, and he grunted again, clearly in pain, as we hit every bump or pothole on the road.

"Speed up, keep your hands on the wheel, control the car. The speed limit is sixty along here; even if you go a hundred and twenty, we'll cut the forty minutes to twenty," he instructed me.

"And if I hit traffic?"

"Go up onto the footpaths, hit the others; I don't care," he said, clutching his knee, attempting to sit up.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Lay back down; you're going to make it worse!" I turned around in frustration.

"Shit Y/n! Look at the road!" His eyes turned petrified as from in front of us came a horn and a swerving car.

"Oh my god!" I squealed, swerving my own wheel and slamming my foot on the pedal.

"Remember, keep control!" he reminded me. I nodded, too scared to even blink at this point.

"Who's the doctor you've got back at the compound?" I raised my voice, keeping my eyes locked on the road.

"His name's Akari (Karneval); I actually hired him from America," he struggled to force the words from his mouth.

"Can he treat shot wounds?" I asked; if he couldn't answer me this, then I was driving straight to the hospital no matter what Mikey preemptively thought would happen.

"Yes, of course. What do you think the most common injury in criminals is? Not a cold or flu, I can tell you that much," he began to get irritated.

"I was just asking," I grumbled back at him, trying my very best not to crash the car.

My hands shook on the wheel as my breath stammered and quickened.

All rational thought left my mind as I began to choke on my own tears. The car slowed down as I shook.