Red Hot(Sex & Mayhem #5)(119)

He raised his hand to pull up the shirt, eager to get the wetness out of his face, but something wasn’t right. He couldn’t properly squeeze the fabric with a hand that felt strangely stiff with a cramp that was becoming increasingly painful. He looked down, and all the food he had earlier rose in his throat. For a moment, he didn’t know what he was looking at. The odd, misshapen tangle of blood, skin and protruding bone didn’t feel like it belonged on his forearm. Covered in red, it resembled the hand of a fancy scarecrow. It did twitch when he tried to move his fingers, but even twisted, the convoluted meat lacked something important. Loki swayed on his knees, nauseated as his gaze followed a red trail, all the way to a scrap of raw meat and bone lying by the wall. Pain hit him like a sledgehammer, and as much as he tried not to be even more of a nuisance to Jack, a strange mewl forced its way out of Loki’s throat.

“Let go of her, Red!” Sam yelled and pulled him back. “I think Loki got hit!” He was right back with Paxton and cuffed her with the same handcuffs the crazy bitch had used on Lucy.

“Paxton!” Monster raised his voice. “Stop moving. We have your torture, threats, violence, and intention to lie in court recorded. Jack’s tape disappears, and ours will too.”

Jack looked up at Monster with his lips parted, but then his confused gaze went to Loki. “No. No. Nononono!”

Loki bit his lips, wheezing as he stared at the blood dribbling down from the thing that was a hand and yet everything about it was wrong. He was sick just from looking at it but couldn’t stop watching. Pain radiating from the battered flesh was rapidly gaining intensity, pulsing through his flesh along with blood, and tearing down whatever protected Loki from sensing it before.

“She didn’t shoot you?” he whispered, looking up at Jack.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair and kneeled next to Loki, his blue eyes unfocused and jerky. “No, no she didn’t, baby. Your hand. Fucking God, your hand. Lie down and stay put. You can’t die on me. If you need blood, I’m gonna fuckin’ give you mine whether you want it or not.” He gently stroked Loki’s cheek, breathing hard and loud.

Loki raised the battered hand, staring at it between him and Jack. “Is our blood even all right to mix?” he whispered, suddenly overcome with a wave of trembles that went all the way down his body. Somewhere in the background, he could hear someone puking. He hoped it was Lucy.

“I… I don’t know.” Panic stained Jack’s voice. “You can’t die. Keith already died. You can’t.” He gently pulled Loki into his arms. “Sam, I need a doctor. Call Needle. I can only take him to the hospital once the bullet’s out. Fuck.”

Loki chuckled, even when the pain radiated all the way to his shoulder, as if the wrecked nerves were suddenly sparking up, all at the same time. “I’m not gonna die. I‘m just gonna be even uglier.”

“You’re perfect to me,” Jack whispered in the most tender voice, but when he picked him up, the sudden flash of pain in the injured arm made Loki cry out. “No more bleeding, okay?”

“How do I stop?” sobbed Loki, squeezing his elbow. If only he could somehow detach the pain from his mind… but it was no use.

Sam shook his head. “I’ll tell him you’re on your way. If he’s not at his place, I’m gonna let you know.”

Jack nodded and gave Loki a tiny kiss on the lips before pressing his forehead against Loki’s. “Doctor Needle. Sounds scary, right? But he’s an okay guy. Saved my ass a few times. And then we’re gonna get you to the hospital. I’m leaving, guys. Sorry for the mess, I owe you,” Jack said, but his eyes never left Loki’s as he walked out of the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Monster propped over a kneeling Lucy in the open restroom. He held her hair and spoke too quietly for Loki to hear.

Loki grabbed his hand under the crumbled wrist, trying not to scream every time any pressure was applied to his shoulder. Mastering silence took over all of Loki’s brainpower. Jack ran straight into the darkness, which seemed absolute after exiting a bright house, but Loki didn’t care. He trusted Jack not to drop him even as each step forward had gravity tugging on his body. His muscles were stiff with exhaustion by the time they reached the van, but Loki’s mind was still clouded by fear that Jack’s soothing words couldn’t extinguish.

“It could’ve been your chest,“ he uttered as Jack helped him into the passenger seat at the front.

“I’d rather it be my chest,” Jack groaned as he got in the van. “We both know I can take a bullet.”