35. Black Spots

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Blythe

My makeup was running down my face. I'm having a hard time deciphering if it's because of my tears or sweat.

Ay Dios, you'd think that I'd think of something else rather than my makeup. Maybe the part where there were black spots showing up at my sight, indicating that I didn't have long before I passed out. My fate would either be meet my maker or at least be found and delay the meeting in place that Max—I mean, Rachel had appointed for me.

I had to rely on my other senses now that I know that I could black out any minute but it's hard to focus when you're trying to walk without falling over and essentially letting people see the gaping hole on my stomach. You'd think the medical training I acquired the second I became the gang member would get me to know more whether or not my organs have been hit.

Based on how the bleeding is, I'll just assume that yeah, the fucking bitch did it.

Gathering up all of my strength, I try to make it out to an alley, at least to rest and lay down in just so I can figure out where I'll be going. I know that I'm too far away to make it to my apartment but I don't know where exactly I am. I couldn't focus and actually take in my surroundings as she held me at gun point because my mind just kept going to Castillo, whether or not he's okay, and when she implied that Dean got injured at the game, I almost lost it and attacked her.

However, the gun kept me to stay still.

The black spots I'm seeing becomes larger, my hackles start to raise, and I lean into the bricked wall, trying to support myself. The pain on my stomach is getting overwhelming, making my senses more and more dull by the second. Turning left, I'm finally met with the dark alley. I walk over, stumbling across a few bottles of beer and other trash, sitting behind the two garbage bins.

I can't help my hissing when I look down on my stomach, noticing that the tissue that was holding me together was now soaked and is now placing a new coat in my hands.

Black spots are getting nearer and larger. I continue to blink, trying to breathe slowly to at least stop the blood from rushing out too much.

"One," I whisper, starting to count the breaths I'm taking in and exhaling.

"Why?" Her voice was too loud and ringing in my ears. "Why didn't you try to find me, Ali?"

Ali. It's been a while since I've heard that nickname. Here she is, now in front of me, with her dyed strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, and true nose and chin. Turns out, she learned how to be an expert in using prosthetics, making her undetectable in any way.

I gasp, pressing my hand on the back of my head. Fucking psycho hit me with the butt of her gun when we reached what looks like an abandoned parking lot in a building. "Ma—Rachel, how did you find me?"

"It was easy," She shrugs. "I mean, yeah, it took some time. I had to steal a few documents since you kept running away and I almost gave up until I saw you at a bus. You didn't notice me there and I was going to come up to you but you were with Antonio and I thought that you finally found a home without me. So, I followed you for a couple weeks, found out that you're with the gang and I came in to protect you."

"Protect me?" The humorless chuckle that went out of me makes me wince at the pain again. "Seriously? Shooting Castillo, hurting Dean, infiltrating Notorious in order to get to me, have you lost your damn mind?"

"I'm not crazy!" She shrieks, pointing the gun at the empty space next to me and shooting.

Jumping, I glance over to the bullet hole that the cemented ground acquired. I glance back at her, noticing how her eyes have gone dark and her gun is now at her side again. "Alright, you're not crazy. Tell me what I'm doing here, then? Do you want to kill me?"

Another surge of pain from my stomach takes over. I take another breath. "Two."

Her scream is louder than mine as we fight for the gun in her hand. She's taken another shot at the ceiling above us but I don't let go. My hands grip her wrist tight, pushing down the gun as much as possible so that she'll hit the ground again.

As I'm getting ready to knee her in the groin again, I fail to see the shimmer of the knife against the fluorescent light and just feel the edge puncture my skin, making me loosen my grip on her. She pushes down on the knife and I hold her shoulders now. Her blue eyes widen in shock, finally realizing what she's done.

The pain overtakes me. I land on the ground, holding the puncture she's created.

"No, no, no! I'm sorry! You shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" She stands, running up to the severely damaged to the car and opening it. "Don't move! I'll—I'll save you!"

My eyes flicker up, making me tilt my head and cry out from the pain as I read the green sign that's pointing towards a closed door.

FIRE EXIT

Half of my vision is starting to fade, the rushing and honking cars are no longer in ear-shot, and I start to panic when I hear footsteps getting near me. I look around and grab the beer bottle that I almost stumbled upon. With all my force, I hit the bottle on the bricked wall, it's pieces scattering, leaving me with a sharp weapon I can still use to defend myself while my other hand stays on the tissue go.

"Who's there? Where are you?" Someone shouts. I can't tell if it's a girl or a guy. I can't tell if it's Rachel.

Another coat of blood is painted on my hand, noticing how panic just made me lose more blood.

I bite my lip, trying to stop me from crying out and giving my location.

"Alice!" Rachel screams out my name over and over again, pleading for me to come back. "Don't go! Don't leave me, please!"

I don't. I run as fast as I can, my adrenaline rushing up to my body, never letting me feel the pain I felt minutes ago.

Her footsteps are getting farther and farther. That's good. My adrenaline decided to flight and I think I have a chance on doing it rather than staying and fight. Considering that she has a knife and a gun, I won't survive anymore if she stabs me again or put a bullet between my eyes.

As they go nearer, I hold right on the bottle and continue to bite my lower lip. I can almost taste blood. It makes my eyes blink away the fading for a second.

"Shit! Antonio!"

The bottle falls out of my hand at the sight of Nickson and I finally let out a howl of pain I've been trying to suppress ever since I walked out of that building. "What—" I let out a wheeze and a tear escapes my eye when he presses his own hands on my stomach "—took you—" Antonio is now kneeling beside him. Both of them are now holding me down "—so long?"

"I'm sorry, Orca," Antonio breathes, leaning to me and kissing my forehead. Tears continue to stream down, giving me more of a headache than I already had when Rachel used her gun on me. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be there when you needed me."

Nodding, I release my hold on my stomach and grip their shoulders. "Castillo? Dean?"

Nickson nods. "Castillo's good. Nothing major was hit. Dean's okay. He's safe at the apartment. We'll have to take you to the hospital."

"No hospitals," I whisper. Fatigue is taking over me, pushing my eyes to close, pushing me to fall fully back on the trash bins and make them my bed. "No. Hospitals."

I blink. The black spots have come back with a friend, blurriness.

"I can't bring you to the apartment," Antonio shakes his head. "It's unsafe."

"Are we close to the apartment?" My voice is getting softer as my eyes are drooping.

Before the black spots and blurriness take over, Nickson nods. "Yes. You managed to walk towards the apartment from where we found Rachel."

That's good is what I wanted to say but I wasn't able to. I'm met with darkness and I embrace it with open arms. Finally, a rest.

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