Page 77 of Burn Like An Angel

“Have you got a better one?” Xander asks distractedly.

“Just feels a bit back-street clinic, you know?” Raine gnaws on his cheek.

“We’re not giving a false name and paying in cash.” I move up the table to stand at Ripley’s head. “Make yourself useful.”

Both moved into position, Xander unwraps several packs of cotton gauze. He uncaps the liquid, leaning over Ripley’s injured body while wearing a displeased expression.

“This may sting,” he advises with a quick glance. “We don’t need company.”

“Meaning?” Ripley grates out.

“Try not to yell too loud.”

Without ceremony, he douses her leg in antiseptic. I watch the clear liquid run red, filling the bullet wound before spilling over in a crimson flow. Ripley’s back arches as a shrill scream erupts from her mouth.

“Fuuuuuck!”

“Nox,” Xander barks. “Cover her mouth!”

Cursing rapidly, I slam a hand over Ripley’s O-shaped lips. Her tortured howls now muffled, she bucks and writhes on the table like we doused her in petrol then lit a flame.

“Stop it, Xan!” Raine frets in a high-pitched screech. “You’re hurting her!”

“Less than a blood infection will,” he hits back. “Let me do my job.”

Using cotton gauze, Xander begins to dab and clean, his jaw locked tight. I can feel the tears pouring from Ripley’s eyes soaking my hand. The huge, green-brown pits stare up at me like I’m responsible for carving her heart out.

It’s a sight I once craved. Dreamed about. Fantasised over. I wanted her tears, freshly spilled and bottled like nectar. Her grief and heartache helped ease my desire for revenge after she had us thrown in the Z wing.

Considering all the regret I feel now, that craving has packed up and left the fucking planet. My sick need for revenge drove me to the brink of insanity.

I’d do all manner of insane things to protect my family—she can attest to that—but somewhere down the line… my brain moved her into that same category.Fuck!When did that happen?

“Stop!” she shrieks behind my hand.

Xander tuts under his breath. “Not yet. We have to clean the wound.”

“I’m sorry.” The words tumble freely from my mouth. “I’m so sorry. Just hold on.”

When Xander douses the gunshot wound again, her wails intensify, chest pumping and body trembling beneath a sheen of glistening sweat. I lift my hand so she can gulp down shuddering breaths.

“P-Please.” She swipes at her wet cheeks. “Take m-my mind off it.”

“How?” I ask desperately.

“Anything… Tell m-me something… A story.”

Now finished flushing the wound, Xander resumes swabbing it to remove any debris. If that vein in his forehead throbs any harder, I’m worried it’s going to explode. He fucking hates this too.

“I… I don’t know any stories.”

“Your sister,” she whines through her pouring tears. “Tell me about her.”

My gaze snaps to hers. “Uh, now?”

Slamming her mouth shut, Ripley shrieks again through tightly sealed lips. Raine looks on the verge of passing out too, his face white as a sheet as he continues to hold her legs straight.

“Shit, okay,” I rush out. “She… She practiced ballet. Some free program for ex-service families. Our grandfather signed her up.”

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