"We're all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding."
—Rudyard Kipling
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The blood poured out with each shallow, ragged breath he took, a sickening torrent that made my stomach churn. He wasn't simply hurt—he was dying, and fast.
I had to do something. Maybe coax him into realizing he needed professional help, and not curl up in here until flies began to hover his lifeless body.
"R-Renzo." I stepped closer, despite my instincts to march back. "You need a hospital."
"No," he rasped, shaking his head, and winced as the movement worsened his pain. He took out his holster and placed the gun right where I could almost see it pointing at me as he took gulps after gulps from the vodka. "You patch me up. I can't go anywhere right now, not like th
