Jimin sighed. If we went to the hospital first, things got more complicated. Namjoon sat beside me in the backseat of the Cayenne, fingers pressed lightly against Jungkook's carotid artery, one hand supporting his head. His splinted leg stretched out across Hoseok's thighs on the other side of me. He wasn't breathing. He stared out the window, trying not to think about the blood drying all over Jungkook, Namjoon, and me. Trying not to think about what I had just done. The impossibility of it. The strength he knew he didn't have.
Instead he mulled over his dissatisfaction with the fight. Because, honestly, he'd had the tracker. Totally contained, though the tracker fought and squirmed and thrashed to avoid Hoseok's crushing arms. There was no chance any of this struggle could have helped him, and Hoseok was already breaking him when Yoongi lunged into the blood-drenched room.
Yoongi, mangled and ferocious, eyes sharp and empty at the same time, looking like some forgotten god or incarnation of war, projecting an aura of pure violence. And the tracker had stopped trying. In that fraction of a second when he saw Yoongi (for the first time, but Hoseok didn't know that), he'd surrendered to his fate. No matter that his fate was sealed once Hoseok had gotten his hands on him, this was what demoralized him.
It was driving Hoseok crazy.
Someday soon I would have to describe to Hoseok what he'd looked like in the clearing and why. I doubted anything else would soothe the sting.
Yoongi was in the driver's seat, his window cracked to the hot, dry outside air, though like Hoseok, he wasn't breathing. Jimin sat beside him, directing everything-the turns, the lanes to travel in, the highest speed he could go without attracting unwanted attention. He had him at sixty-seven miles per hour now. I would have pushed that, but Jimin was confident that he would get us to the hospital faster than I could. Dodging patrol cars would only slow us down and complicate everything.
Although Jimin was monitoring every facet of this drive, his mind was in a dozen different places, finding ways through the necessary errands in front of him, working through the consequences of every choice available.
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