Dos’s Point of View
The world was a blur of headlights, neon signs, and pain.
“s**t, man!” Daniel’s voice tore through the ringing in my ears as he sprinted toward me. I was staggering toward him, one hand pressed against my side, feeling the hot, sticky stream of blood spill between my fingers. Every step sent a sharp wave of fire through my ribs.
The moment his eyes caught the red soaking through my shirt, his face hardened. “What the f**k happened to you?!”
I tried to stand tall, but my knees almost buckled. My voice was gravel, thin and shaky. “Some… f*****g… asshole.”
Daniel didn’t waste time. He hooked an arm under mine, half-dragging me toward his car. “Goddammit, Dos. You’re white as a f*****g ghost.”
I slumped into the seat, head pressed against the window as he slammed the
