The scarred man stood there, knife dripping blood, frozen in shock. His men stared at him, wide-eyed and stiff with fear. One of them stammered, “Boss, what are you doing? You’re going to kill him!”
Andrew’s white shirt was almost glowing with all that blood, the red so bright it made his skin look ghostly pale.
The scarred man blinked, like he was waking from a bad dream. His mind raced. What had he just done?
He clenched his jaw. “Run. Now.”
Emily kept her head down, holding Andrew up, barely glancing as the scarred man and his crew scrambled away. She didn’t have time to care about them. All her focus was on Andrew. She reached for his suit jacket, lying nearby, and pressed it gently but firmly against his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
Their hands were slick and sticky with blood. Emily’s heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe. She tried to keep her voice steady. “Can you stand? I need to get you to a hospital.”
Her hands shook as she pressed the jacket down. “You’re losing so much blood…”
Suddenly, Andrew placed his bloodied hand on top of hers. He was breathing hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t be scared. I’m not going to die…”
Emily gritted her teeth. “Don’t talk. Come on, get up. We have to get out of here.”
Andrew’s other hand reached toward her face, then paused in the air.
She froze, not moving away, just watching him.
He stopped, hand suspended. “Are you crying?” he asked quietly.
Emily frowned, trying to sound tough. “No. Now stop talking. You’re in bad shape. We need to go, right now.”
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