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❝𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎❞
【＊＊＊】
"Motherfuck-Shit!" Mila couldn't help the hushed curses that slipped past her lips, a hiss following them, as her battered, bloodied and bruised body wanted to give out to the dull pain that was circulating her nerves so badly.
However, Coco's inability to use the pair of tweezers to dig out the bullet lodged in her right thigh only ensured that she would not be allowed an out to her suffering that easily.
"It's ok, I've almost got it." The veteran spoke out with a hint of achievement in his voice.
That was quickly shut down the moment Mila spoke out again, her words encased by a guttural groan, "That's my fucking flesh, pendejo!" At this point Angel was hovering over her, having to hold her down against the pool table in order to stop her from squirming about - more likely to prevent any attempt of her getting up and strangling Coco, despite the state she was in.
Coco instantly stopped in his actions and looked up at the young woman wriggling in Angel's grip, hands latched onto his arms, leaving marks in them from her nails. Coco then shifted his gaze to the many Mayans surrounding him, all with a look that said 'you fucking idiot' gracing their their faces.
And - of course - there were only two words which he could respond with, "My bad."
As he stepped away from where he was previously trying to rid Mila of the bullet lodged in her, EZ made his way back over to her with a bottle of tequila in his hands, "Here."
Mila weakly grasped the bottle and sat up, downing it in a attempt to numb the effects of the night she'd had, moving out of Angel's arms to do so. But, he remained firmly stood behind her watching her with a very guilty expression.
One which he'd been wearing since he heard of the diner's robbery. One which he wore when he saw the horrific beating from the baseball bat that she'd taken, the knife lacerations that littered her skin, and of course the bullet wound in her thigh. One which he was unaware she had noticed the instant she saw him.
The Mayans all stared at her, wondering what they should do now. That was until she decided to place the tequila bottle down onto the now bloodied pool table cloth and took in a sharp breath, before leaning over and burying her fingers into the bullet wound herself, digging around for it while the blood bubbled out over her fingers and ran down her leg, soaking into her jeans that were long past being ruined by rips and blood.
She shut her eyes as tears started to leak from them. She was in fucking agony, but she didn't give a shit, because the sooner the slug was out of her, the sooner she would be one step closer to allowing the peaceful darkness of slumbering to submerge her and her pain.
