The ride to the underground doctor felt endless.
Pup lay stretched across the back of a stolen SUV while blood soaked through towels and hands and everything else we could find. Every bump in the road made him groan through clenched teeth.
Nobody talked much or breathed easily because the kid had finally earned his patch and then someone tried to put him in the ground only hours later.
Crow drove like a man trying to outrun death itself while Knox sat beside him barking directions and I stayed in the back holding pressure against Pup’s chest.
“You better not die.” I muttered and Pup somehow managed a weak grin.
“Bossy.” He said.
“Shut up.” I said.
His eyes drifted closed and my heart immediately jumped.
“Pup.” I yelled.
“I’m awake.” He muttered.
“Barely.” I said.
The do
