Roberto lay on his back, chest heaving as his hands pressed down desperately on Devlin’s wound. The blood was everywhere, soaking through his brother’s clothes, his own hands, and the street beneath them. Panic clawed at him, choking out his thoughts. He lifted one of Devlin’s hands, his own fingers trembling as they slipped through the warm, slick blood. The red staining his skin was real, too real. “f**k, f**k, f**k. Liam!”
His oldest brother was there in an instant, the familiar authority of his voice cutting through the chaos. Liam’s hands were quick, covering Devlin’s with his own, pushing down with brutal force. “9-1-1, Roberto, now.”
Roberto fumbled with his phone, the blood making the screen slide under his fingers. He had to take a breath—his heart hammering, terror swallowing h
