Chapter 8

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"Come on baby, let's get you lay down," Zach muttered soothingly, more to himself than to me. He pushed through the front door with his shoulder and took me along the hallway.

"You don't have to carry me you know, I'm fine," I reminded him, looking down at his arms hooked around my waist and the back of my knees.

He didn't bother to respond, simply glared at me in warning before lowering me onto the sofa with my head placed on his lap. "Liam, grab a first aid kit," he demanded and I sighed.

"Please," I added on his behalf, shooting him a glare. Beside me, Chris chuckled although Zach seemed less than amused.

Liam reappeared with the small green box moments later and the three of them began working together to patch me up. My only view was their faces hovering over me.

"Guys seriously," I chuckled, trying to hide the small stab of pain I felt. "I'm fine," I lied.

I went ignored while Zach gingerly removed the scarf from around my neck, pulling it away to reveal the thin material drenched completely in my blood.

"Do you think she needs stitches?" Liam asked and I panicked, shooting upright.

"No," I snapped, shaking my head and then wincing at the sheer pain pulsating in my neck. "No, I don't need stitches."

"Probably," Zach nodded, forcing me back down onto my back and inspecting the wound closely.

"No I don't," I repeated, only to be ignored again.

"There must be a needle and thread somewhere," Zach mumbled, shifting his gaze from my throat to my eyes and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"Nope."

"Ella," he growled, shooting me his signature daring look. "Tell me."

I kept my lips pursed until Liam spoke up. "I'll go and look for a sewing kit, there must be one somewhere."

"No please, I don't need stitches, the moon will heal this in no time," I objected.

"El the moon won't be up for another 5 or 6 hours," Chris reminded me, causing tears to prick my eyes.

"Please don't," I pleaded softly, clutching Zach's shirt in my hand.

He bent down so his lips were a hairs width from mine. "I promise I will be gentle, just please tell me where the needles are before you bleed out."

I sighed, unintentionally breathing in the sweet stench of my blood and felt sickness rise in my throat. My vision was blurring more and more and I knew he was right, I wasn't far from passing out. "My moms closet, top shelf," I whispered, tightening my grasp on his shirt.

"Got it!" I heard Liam call not too long later, obviously finding the kit in my mothers room which was now Chris'. He returned and dropped the kit onto the sofa beside me and soon Zach was choosing a needle.

Ever since I was little I had been terrified of needles. Something about them had always had me feeling queasy and whenever I had injections or blood tests as a child, my mom and dad both had to be right next to me.

My dad always told me I was brave but I never felt like it. The other kids around me didn't cry when they had their injections but my mom had explained that everyone was scared of something.

"All you have to do is close your eyes, hold my hand and wait for it to be over."

That was what she had always told me.

So, I took Chris' hand in one of mine and Liams in the other and clung to them while I watched Zach thread the needle through blurred eyes.

Behind Zach, the room had started to spin, making my head feel even more fuzzy and my stomach turn. I slammed my eyes closed, hoping to reduce the dizziness before I threw up.

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