Gerald kept both hands pressed hard over the wound in Mako’s chest. Blood kept seeping between his fingers no matter how much pressure he used. It was warm and slick and wouldn’t stop. Mako’s skin had already gone pale. His breathing came in short, wet pulls that sounded wrong.
“Stay awake,” Gerald said. His voice was low and rough. “You hear me? Keep your f*****g eyes open.”
Mako’s gaze drifted toward him. His lips moved, but only a weak sound came out.
Two of their men ran up with a stretcher, nearly tripping over the uneven ground. The resort doctor who had been working on Eduardo came behind them, still wiping blood from his hands onto his pants.
“Move him. Now,” the doctor ordered. “If we wait any longer, we will lose him.”
Gerald didn’t take his hands away until they had shifted
