“She’s losing too much blood!” I snapped.
Her condition was critical. Blood soaked into the kitchen tiles. Her breathing had turned ragged, lips turning pale, and her eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness.
“Damn it,” I growled, gripping her wrist. Her pulse was fading—weak, rapid. Not good.
Haris was panicking beside me, fumbling with his phone, his voice was cracking as he spoke. “They said they’re on their way—they’ll be here in ten minutes!”
“She doesn’t have ten minutes,” I barked, already pulling off my jacket. “If she doesn’t get help now, you’ll be holding her body before that ambulance ever pulls up this street.”
He stared at me, his face pale with fear, his lips was trembling. “I… Ryder—please—someone told me once, you're trained, medically. That you’ve done battlefield
