Four

Wynne

Wynne

I wake to the sound of sirens. My arm burns, and I feel like I'm laying on sharp gravel. My eyelids flutter open to familiar hazel eyes focused on me with an emotion I never knew they could feel... fear.

"Zeph," I squeak out "What's wrong?"

"You were shot," he replies, his calm voice contradicted by the panic showing clearly on his face. "I'm so sorry, Wynnie. You're going to be okay.  I swear it."

It all floods back to me; The diner, the shooting. Summer. Summer! "Zeph! Summer is dead!" My head jerks toward the counter where Smithy is stoically guarding a lump covered in one of his signature checkered tablecloths. If he notices the blood congealing at his feet, he doesn't seem to care.

I barely even feel the pain as I look down at my arm. There is some kind of dish cloth or towel tied around it tightly, but blood still spreads slowly between the fibers. Holy shit. I was shot. I look to Zeph for answers, confused as to how I, of all people, managed to attract a bullet.

"I know, Wynnie. I know. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I am so sorry."

"Zeph? What are you talking about?" I grab his hand and tug myself slowly up into a sitting position. "It was a drive-by. They happen all the time here. You don't control the streets," I remind him. I know they say doctors have a hero complex, but I'd hoped he would hold off until med school at least to decide it was his job to save the world.

"It looks like the bullet is still in your arm," he says, ignoring my assurance that he is not to blame for it. "I tied a towel around it while you were out to stop the bleeding, but you will probably need a surgeon to remove it. Can't have you permanently damaging the arm you carry your camera bag on," he tries to joke. "The ambulance is here now, so let's get you on a gurney and going. I'll have them give you something for the pain. It'll probably make you sleepy, but I promise I am not leaving your side."

As predicted, the paramedic hooks me to an IV and injects something for the pain into the tubing, Zephyros clinging to my hand as my world begins to go fuzzy, when I remember with a jolt, "Brock? Sully? Are they okay? Oh my god! Where are Brock and Sully?"

"They're fine, just a couple scratches between the two of them. They hung back to talk to the police."

I can't tell if it's the drugs making me paranoid, but it feels like he is lying about something. I hope they are both okay. "They're too pretty to die," I mumble, my jaw feeling heavy and tired from the drugs. "You're too pretty to die too."

Zeph chuckles at my medically induced honesty as the world fades away again, his warm hand still gripping mine tightly, his thumb gently stroking my knuckles. I know I was just shot, and I should be terrified, but with Zephyros Barone at my side, looking at me like I'm the most important thing in his universe, I have never felt better.