67. Fractured
Mara
The world narrowed to the guest room bed and the man bleeding out on it. I didn't and couldn't see or think of anyone or anything else.
Zander lay unnaturally still, his chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths. Blood soaked through the bandages the club doctor had wrapped around his torso. The bullet was still inside him, dangerously close to his heart, the doc had said. Every minute that passed felt like another piece of my soul being torn away.
I knelt beside the bed, clutching Zander’s cold hand in both of mine, tears streaming down my face without stopping. “Please,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”
Marcus stood in the doorway like a statue, barking orders into his phone while the club doctor worked
