Page 84 of Russian Roulette
He’s going to stab him? What the fuck?
“No!” I yell, rushing forward. The thought of either of them getting hurt or killed because of me is more than I can bear. I dive on top of Vulcan, hoping to break his chokehold loose or knock the knife out of Seven’s hand.
At that exact moment, Seven regains a spurt of energy and rolls them both to the side. I scream as the knife’s blade slices through my jeans and into my upper thigh. The burning white hot pain stuns me and I slump off Vulcan’s back and onto the ground.
Glancing at my leg, I see blood spurting from the gaping wound. I clutch my leg, trying not to cry out again. The pain in unbearable, and the blood is pooling around me.
“Jade!” Kit instantly lands by my side. “Oh my God! You’re hurt! Don’t move.”
Vulcan drops his hands from around Seven’s throat in horror, and they both frantically scramble to kneel beside me.
“What the fuck happened?” Seven asks, his voice hoarse and cracking from his throat being squeezed. “What did we do? I didn’t mean to hurt her!”
“You knifed her, you fucking moron!” Vulcan says. “What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you bring a knife into a wrestling match? I wouldn’t kill you.” He tugs the slash in my pants aside to inspect the wound and I cry out in pain. “You’re losing too much blood,” he says. “This is bad. We need to stop the bleeding.” He strips off his shirt and wraps it around my upper thigh in a makeshift tourniquet. Red blood quickly soaks through his shirt and drips onto the ground.
“She needs stitches,” Kit says. “We need to take her to the emergency room.”
“No!” I argue, struggling to sit up. “I don’t want to go to a hospital. I’ll be fine. Does anyone have a Band-Aid? That’s all I need, and I’ll be fine, I promise. Just take me to a drugstore to pick up bandages and antiseptic to clean it. There’s no telling where Vulcan’s knife has been. Can you get tetanus from a knife?” I’m mumbling almost incoherently now and they’re not listening to me. They never listen to me.
“What if Giovanni’s men find out she’s at the hospital?” Seven asks.
“That’s a risk we have to take,” Kit says. “We don’t have a choice. She needs medical care. This is non-negotiable.”
Kit reaches down to drape my arms around his neck. “Can you hold on to me? I need to pick you up and carry you to the limo. I’m sorry, it’s going to hurt like a bitch to move you.”
“This is ridiculous,” I say, gritting my teeth to hide the intense pain from the guys. “It’s only a paper cut. Take me to a bathroom where I can wash it off and bandage it up. I hate hospitals, especially the smell.”
“You’re going, whether you agree or not. We’re not doctors.” He kneels and carefully places his hands under my knees. “On three I’m going to pick you up, okay? Be ready. I won’t lie to you. It’s going to hurt bad when I move you. One…two…three.”
A yelp escapes my lips when he lifts me, causing the muscles in my leg to stretch. Burying my face in his shirt, I quickly blink back the tears threatening to flow down my cheeks from the pain.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
The mantra from my childhood comes back in a rush. Crying shows weakness and I won’t show it. Not even to them.Especially not to them.I grip the back of his neck while he carries me to the limo.
“Oh, Lord! Help me, Jesus! Help me, Jesus!” Leroy mutters in a panic when he sees us coming. “What the hell happened out there? A knife fight?” He rushes to open the passenger door for us. “Can I not leave you guys alone for five minutes?”
I grip Kit tighter, not wanting him to turn loose of me. “Stay with me,” I say into his warm neck. “Don’t go. If I can’t convince you not to take me to the hospital, then ride with me.” I’m playing to his protective instincts, hoping I’ll be able to talk him out of going to the emergency room on the way over.
He rubs his hand along the back of my hair and presses my head tighter against his chest. “I promise I won’t leave you. I’ve got you.” Still holding me in his huge arms, he crouches low to step inside the limo. He slides onto the leather seat with me sitting on his lap.
“Hang on, we’re coming with you,” Seven says from the door of the limo. “Leroy, take us to the nearest emergency room. She needs stitches.”
“Don’t you dare get in here with us,” Kit says, in a tightly controlled tone. “You both need to stay the fuck away from her right now. Look at what you’ve done.” He holds onto me tightly with one hand while he pulls his car keys out of his pocket and tosses them to Seven. “Here are my keys. Follow behind us in my Jeep.”
“I’m riding with you because this isn’t my fault!” Vulcan says. “We’ve wrestled a million times, and Seven has never pulled out a knife before today. I’m not leaving Jade.”
“Don’t act innocent,” Kit says. “You were choking him, and it went too far. You’ve done enough damage for one day.”
“We don’t have time to argue right now,” Seven says. “It’s my fault and I’ll take all the blame for it. C’mon Vulcan, let’s ride together in Kit’s Jeep. We’ll be right behind you. Meet you at the hospital.” He slams the limo door.
“Leroy, please drive carefully,” Kit says to him. “Jade’s in pain and every bump or sharp turn will make it worse.”
“Don’t you worry. Hang on, Jade. Old Leroy will take care of you.”
“Won’t you be recognized if you go into the hospital with me?” I ask Kit. “I’m sure you have plenty of fans in Vegas, too. We shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves and you’re impossible to miss.”
He reaches into his back pocket and brings out an ugly, brown knit cap. He pulls his long, blonde hair up on top of his head and tugs the cap on top of it.
