Estelle

9 | Gunshots

After grabbing a handful of washcloths, I jump in the car and race to the location he gave me.

My heart pounds in my chest as I drive down the silent and dark street where he told me to go. Parked cars line the road and I try my best to spot him in the shadows.

Mind racing, I am hoping I am not too late and praying that whoever shot at him is not here anymore.

My car rolls to a stop and I sit tense, waiting for anything. Steam rises from the sewers and a dog barks from a few houses away.

Suddenly, a shadow stumbles in front of the car and I gasp. The man comes into the headlights and I realize who it is.

My heart aches watching him stumble to my car quickly.

Unlocking the car, I let Mr. Irey climb into my car in the passenger seat. His shirt is soaked red on his side and I move to put the rags on the wound.

"Drive, Jane. I'll do it." He grunts.

"I'm going to the hospital."

His hair is wild and messy as he holds the rags to his side. His face scrunches in pain. My head is racing. My silent boss who I know hardly anything about is in my car bleeding. I don't even understand why he called me! We are not close and I'm just some employee of his.

"No... It is only a surface wound. I don't need to go."

"You are bleeding a lot!"

"Please, Jane." He faces me in his seat and his eyes plead with me. "Please. Anywhere else."

I know I should just drive him to the hospital. Anyone else would. But for some reason I feel compelled to trust him. I have never doubted that I could trust Mr. Irey and even in this crazy situation, that feeling is even stronger.

"Okay." I answer quietly. I look at the blood on the rags and suck in my breath as I begin to drive to the only place I can think of.

I let him lean against me as I bring him up the stairs. When we get to my door, I lean him against the wall as I fight the broken door open and lead him in.

Without thinking about the couch, I guide him over to it and sit him down before closing the front door and rushing to get the first aid kit under my bed.

"Lay on your back."

He does as I instruct and I lift his shirt, taking in the large amount of blood. Thankfully the bleeding slowed during the car ride when he put pressure on it. Using more rags and a bowl of water, I wipe away the blood so I can see the wound easier.

As I work on cleaning the blood off, I can't help but get deja vu. It seems like fate really wants me to be cleaning gunshot wounds.

Mr. Irey's breathing calms and he becomes quiet as I work. It must have been all the moving that hurt and now that he is still, he is relaxed and calm.

After cleaning the blood off, I look at the wound closely. It appears that the bullet only cut into his side and did not enter his body fully. I see an exit wound which means I won't have to remove a bullet.

"Where did you learn to do this?" His deep voice startles me. I cannot recall a single time where he initiated the conversation.

"My dad came home with a lot of injuries."

"Gunshots?"

I frown and nod but avoid looking at him and focus on the wound.

"My mother was a nurse. She taught me so I could help my father when she..." I bite my lip and stop myself.