Page 62 of Ruined By Blood
"Not happening," I reply, voice firm but gentle.
The house door flies open before we reach it. Lucrezia stands there, eyes wide and frantic. When she spots Sienna in my arms, her face crumples.
I carry Sienna through the doorway. Lucrezia follows close behind, her hand reaching out to touch Sienna's armgently. Zoe waits inside, her expression tight with worry. Dr. Romano stands in the background, medical bag already open.
The moment I set Sienna carefully on her feet, Lucrezia steps forward and wraps her in a gentle embrace. Sienna stiffens for a moment before collapsing against my sister, her entire body shaking violently now.
"You're safe," Lucrezia whispers, holding her steady. "You're safe now."
I take a step back, giving them space, but I can't look away. Blood soaks through my shirt, the adrenaline fading enough that the pain breaks through my defenses. Dr. Romano notices immediately, moving toward me with a professional's practiced eye.
"Bed. Now," he orders, nodding toward the stairs. "That needs stitching before you pass out."
"I'm fine," I growl.
"You're not fine," Zoe cuts in, stepping forward. "You're bleeding all over the floor, and Sienna needs you recovered, not dead from blood loss."
I almost argue, but Sienna's broken voice stops me.
"Please," she says through chattering teeth, still clinging to Lucrezia. "Let him help you."
Fuck.
One word from her and I'm surrendering.
I give a tight nod and turn toward the stairs.
"I'll take care of her," Zoe says softly, moving to Sienna's side. She places a gentle hand on Sienna's back. "Let's get you cleaned up in my room. The bathroom's bigger, and I have some clean clothes that might fit better."
Sienna takes a deep breath, visibly collecting herself. The shaking doesn't stop, but something in her eyes shifts. A flicker of control returning.
"Thank you," she says to Zoe, her voice steadier than before.
I hesitate at the foot of the stairs, caught between following Romano's orders and staying with Sienna.
"Go," Sienna says, meeting my eyes across the foyer. "I'm okay."
She's not okay. We both know it. But she's trying, and that matters more than anything else right now.
I turn and head up the stairs, Romano following close behind.
I make it to the top of the stairs, my teeth clenched against the burning pain in my side. Romano follows, his footsteps quick and determined behind me.
I reluctantly lead him to the nearest guest room, not wanting to trail blood through the entire upstairs. The moment I step inside, Romano drops his bag on the bed and points.
"Shirt off. Sit."
I comply with a grunt, peeling the blood-soaked fabric away from my skin. The wound stings as the material pulls free, fresh blood welling up immediately.
"See? Just a scratch," I say, examining the four-inch gash across my ribs. Not deep enough to hit anything vital, but deep enough to bleed like a motherfucker.
Romano snaps on latex gloves and bends to examine the wound, his fingers probing with clinical precision. I hiss when he hits a particularly tender spot.
"Hold still," he says, reaching for antiseptic from his bag. The liquid burns like fire when he applies it, but I don't flinch.
"I've had worse," I say, watching him work.
"That doesn't make you invincible." He cleans away more blood, revealing the full extent of the cut. After athorough examination, he straightens up. "You're lucky. It's shallow. Missed everything important. A few stitches would be ideal, but?—"
