I didn’t like where that was going.
“And when it wears off,” he continued, “this situation changes.”
“It will,” I said. “Just not the way you’re hoping.”
He laughed quietly at that, like he appreciated the answer more than he should have.
“You’re bleeding out,” he said a moment later, more matter-of-fact now. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
Of course I could.
The weakness wasn’t immediate, but it was there, creeping in slowly at the edges. The kind that didn’t take you all at once, but chipped away at your control until something slipped.
My leg throbbed with every step, the pain no longer sharp and explosive, but deep and constant. My body was trying to heal it—I could feel that too—but it was slower than it should have been.
Too much blood lost.
Too much damage.
I kept moving any
