ZANE
Damien looked like s**t, but he was still breathing and walking… well, trying to.
His body was slumped against the wall, his eyes bloodshot and his lips cracked. Cuts were crisscrossed across his chest and back like a map of pain. Dried blood painted his skin, and his shirt clung to him in patches where it hadn’t already been shredded. He had been trying to jump out the too tiny window when we barged in and me acting like I was some kind of cop, making him freeze and almost give out was kind of fun. If it wasn’t that he was such a mess, my head would be rolling.
“Damien—“ I rushed to him.
He squinted up at me, weak but somehow still giving me the death glare. Well I deserve that. “You came.”
Rafael moved to the other side. “Don’t move. You’ve lost a lot of blood and your bones
