Future Lost

33

I hang up. “He’s on his way.”

Adam nods, and I lift his arm around my shoulders to help him up. He groans with every step, but we make it back to the apartment after a few minutes. Max hovers around our feet the entire time, obviously worried about his favorite human.

Adam has me take him to the bathroom, where he sits on the closed toilet seat with a grimace. “Grab my first aid kit and some towels.”

I fetch some of our old towels, the ones we use to wash Max, then get his kit out from under the sink. My hands are shaking, but I manage to use the scissors to carefully cut off Adam’s shirt. As it falls away, my panic increases. Adam was shot in the ribs. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

The buzzer stops me from changing my mind and calling an ambulance. Ken’s outside, and I rush him in to see Adam.

“Oh crap,” he says, as he enters the bathroom. “What happened?”

“Long story,” Adam says, his voice weak. “Short version is: I got shot.”

“Well, yeah, I can see that.” He wastes no time in opening the first aid kit. “You should really go to a hospital. And call the police.”

“We can’t,” I say. “Can you help him or not?”

He inspects Adam’s wound. “I think so. The bullet only grazed him. I just need a few minutes to stitch him up.”

He starts cleaning the injury, and the sight of it makes my head dizzy. Considering how many people I’ve killed, you’d think a little blood wouldn’t faze me, but it’s different when it’s coming out of the person I love.

“Go,” Adam says to me. “We’re okay in here. Make sure the apartment is secure.”

I reluctantly nod. I don’t want to leave, but Adam must know that if I stand here and watch, I’m going to lose my mind worrying over him. There’s nothing I can do to help anyway. They’ve both been trained in saving people’s lives. I’m only good at ending them.

I check the locks on the front door, then head to the windows and draw the curtains. There’s no sign of the shooter anywhere, but she could still be out there. Lying in wait. Maybe I need to increase our security. Or get a gun.

The bathroom door’s been closed, but I hear Adam let out a soft, pained sound. Oh God, what are they doing in there? The two of them aren’t doctors. What if the bullet hit something bad and they don’t know it? What if the wound gets infected? What if Adam’s lost too much blood?

I’m so worried I can barely stand still. I want to pace. To run. To punch something. Like the person who shot Adam. Or a wall. I’m not picky, really. All this nervous, anxious energy is swirling inside my stomach, and I need to let it out somehow. Otherwise I’ll have a panic attack. I haven’t had one in six months, but I can feel one coming for me now. The tightness of breath. The rapid beating of my heart. The feeling that the world is spiraling out of control.

Max whines from outside the bathroom door. I kneel down and bury my face in his fur. “It’s okay. Adam’s going to be fine,” I tell him, although I’m consoling myself as much as him. I take even breaths and hold on to the dog until the panic attack recedes into the background again.

After the longest ten minutes of my life, Ken opens the door. “All done.”

I release Max and straighten up. “Is he okay?”

Adam has a large bandage over his ribs now, on the left side, but the bleeding seems to have stopped. “I’m fine, Elena. Or I will be. I promise.”

Ken helps Adam to his feet. “You’re not fine. You’ve been shot. You should really go to a damn hospital.”

“Not going to happen,” Adam says.

“Fine, then I’m putting you in bed. You need to get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Adam grunts as Ken half carries him into the bedroom. “You’re not a doctor.”

“Hey, I’ll get my PhD before you at this rate.”

Adam chuckles, then makes a face as he’s carefully lowered onto the bed. I hover on the side, ready to jump in and help if they need me. Max hops on the bed and curls up against Adam’s good side.

Ken pulls something out of his own bag. A bottle of pills. “Take two of these. They’ll ease the pain and help you get some sleep.”

Adam takes the bottle and frowns. “Do I want to know where you got these?”

“Probably not.” Ken’s been arrested for this kind of thing before, though he claimed he got the illegal medication for his mom. At this point, I don’t care where he got the pills, as long as they’ll help Adam.

Adam tries to shove the bottle back at Ken. “I can’t take these.”

My hand rests firmly on his shoulder. “You’re going to take them and get some rest, or we’re going to the hospital. No arguments.”

He sighs. “All right, all right.”

Ken leaves the room to give us some privacy. As Adam takes the pills, I can’t stop staring at the bandage on his ribs. If the bullet had been slightly to the side, Adam would have been hit in the heart. I came so close to losing him today.

“Hey,” Adam says, drawing my eyes back to his face. “I’m going to be okay. The bullet just grazed me. Really.”

I push the slightly too long hair away from his eyes and then let my fingers trail down his cheek. “You better be okay. I can’t do this without you.”

He smiles faintly. “I find that hard to believe. You’re the most capable person I know.”

“I’m serious.” My throat is tight with emotion. “I need you, Adam.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”