Dollface

Part 27

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No more questions were asked. Simon had to figure out what he was going to do without me. I forced myself to swallow every last insult inside me, even though it begged me so much to leave my body; I stopped myself from wasting any more breath on him.

I had my usual bowl of cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Simon worked almost non-stop at his desk, and we haven't spoken at all since yesterday morning, which made things much more awkward, but I tried my best not to let it affect me, but the way my breathing and heart rate increases when we are in the same room almost drives me crazy.

That evening I decide to escape all my worries and take a long, hot shower to drown my thoughts. After that moment of reflection, I go back to my bedroom and start getting dressed.

Just as I throw my shirt over my head, I hear a car door slam outside and I immediately crouch down on the ground, my desperate eyes darting to my bedroom door, hoping I might get a chance to scurry to Simon's room across the hall, but that was all cut off as bullets slammed through every window in the house.

I quickly cover my head to avoid the shards of glass flying across the room, I scream dry-mouthed, I close my eyes tightly, shielding my ears from the sounds of the bullets penetrating the house.

I carefully crawl out of my room, already feeling the tears of absolute terror burning in my eyes.

S: ISABELL!!

My head snaps up as I lean against the kitchen island, screaming Simon's name like a coward. He appears through the door, relief flooding through me as he crawls towards me.

The loud sound of the bullets as he wrapped his arms around my smaller frame caused me to feel a sense of comfort for a few seconds.

His jaw was clenched tightly as he held his gun tightly in his right hand.

S: I'll take you to the basement while I watch it! I need you to be safe!

He yelled over the endless shooting, making me nod my head frantically.

I: But what about you?! From the bullets that shot down every window, then the house is probably surrounded!
S: We don't have time for that, my main priority is you.

He stood up and crouched down before reaching under my thighs and sweeping me off my feet. I gasp and the sudden movement, feel me being rushed to the basement door where I was deposited on the first step.

I peer up at him fearfully as he glances at me, loading his gun, and I was surprised when he leaned close to my ear and whispered.

S: I'll be back. Just hide for me, dollface.

The door closes in my face and I quickly do as I'm told, hiding behind a pile of boxes. I stare up at the ceiling and listen in on all the commotion above as my back slides down against the wall, my heart stuck in my throat, practically praying that Simon is okay.

The skin of my arms had goosebumps as my leg jumped in fear. My breath escapes my mouth at a very fast pace, I clasp my clasped hands and gradually tighten my grip the longer I heard the bullets above me.

Minutes passed as I sat there holding on to my faith in Simon. He's good at this, I told myself. He's been training for years for this exact situation, Simon is the best at what he does, like no other, even my father didn't question him.

All of a sudden the bullets seemed to subside and I gasped as the basement door flew open. I see the outline of his curls, a loud grunt follows my guess that it must be Simon.

My heart stops as I see him reach the bottom step and kneel down with a pained groan on his lips, dropping his weapon to the ground and I run to him, quickly spotting his hand with a profusely bleeding wound on his arm.

My eyes briefly examine the injury and frown at the horrific amount of fluid dripping down his arm.

I: Simon...

I scan his body for any other wounds, soon realizing that this was the only one. His pale skin worried me the most because of the amount of blood he was losing. I seemed to forget all the medical terms I had read now that my head was full of worry.

I: Shit...
S: Isa...I-I might pass out.

I shake my head, ready to drag him up the stairs if I have to.

I: Please don't pass out.
S: It's not how I want it.

His annoying eyes started to droop, causing me to quickly grab onto his neck.

S: I know you could... just do what you can to get that bullet out of my arm.

Pull yourself together, I snap to myself.

I: Okay, I need to get you up the stairs.

I know what to do. I've studied a lot and read enough through all of this stuff. I can fix this.

S: I can make it to the couch...
I: Are you sure?
S: Yeah... we can't waste your time.

Simon groans and hisses in pain as he stands up. I wrap my arms around his waist and start to urge him up the stairs.

A minute later he collapsed onto the couch. I breathlessly check his pulse and notice his skin is really hot now. I was moving frantically and thinking really fast. I was stressed and struggling to perform each procedure.

I bend over and kneel next to him as I brush the curls from his sweaty face.

I: Stay awake as much as possible.

I then sprint up the stairs and find some tweezers and disinfecting alcohol, throwing every other useless thing on the floor. Then I quickly grab those two things and a t-shirt from Simon's floor before fleeing down the stairs.

The items fell to the floor next to me as I kneeled next to him and checked his pulse again to find it slowing down. I try to keep my hands from shaking as I tie the t-shirt around his arm just above the wound, hoping it would stop the blood more slowly.

I: This is going to hurt like hell.

I warn him, wiping the tweezers and the area around the wound with the alcohol.

I flinch at his reaction and reach for the tweezers under his skin trying my best to get the bullet out and get it over with as quickly as possible.

His eyes closed and groaned loudly through his teeth as his hands touch the couch.

I: I'm so sorry.

When I finally pull the bullet out, I wrap it in a paper towel and place it on the floor next to me. Beads of sweat run down Simon's face, his chest heaving in discomfort.

I wipe the wound again to disinfect it once more, afraid that if it gets infected we'll be involved in a lot more trouble unwrapping the shirt from his arm, I sigh in relief when blood wasn't pouring out of the wound again.

I: Do we have a bandage somewhere?
S: ...in my nightstand.

After quickly gathering the medical bandage, I wrap the bullet wound tightly.

I: Please, don't make me do this again.

I say, dropping my head onto his stomach as he manages to let out a chuckle.

I: Okay, I know you're exhausted, so I need you to rest.
S: Yes.

I was almost ready to get up when Simon's hand grabbed my chin, our eyes meeting, his dark gaze colliding with the light.

S: Thank you.
I: You said you'd take a bullet for me, the least I could do is help you.

I put a pillow under his head before gathering the things next to me.

I: Now go to sleep.