Jayden’s POV
“Argh.”
I groan, clutching my bleeding shoulder and the area on my chest. The pressure from my trembling hands is not enough to stop the bleeding.
Kelvin slams the door against me, knowing well enough that I'll need to get out if I ever survive his shots. What's more troubling, is that his gun is a Welrod pistol, and without any of us spilling, no freaking person will know I'm at deathbed.
“You dickhead.”
I lament, raining abuses on him even though I'm left in my torment.
Slowly, life seeps out from me, and my lips are shaking badly. I can't get myself to say a word, or call for help.
The once pure water is now thickly laced with my blood, the very sight of it scaring me to death. I have dealt with and seen so many gory sights, but the idea of my blood as a warm
