Out of Control ✔

FOURTH CHAPTER

The pain was only increasing as time went by and Coco found himself feeling like an idiot again. Not only because he had been wrong about the girl with the gun who he'd found too cute to really shoot him, but also because he was still sitting there waiting for her return.

Why the hell would she come back? She was a crazy bitch, threatening him without blinking an eye and then it was like a switch had been flipped and she suddenly cared ‒ it had confused him at the time, but the pain had been too overwhelming to give it a second thought. But now she was gone and blood was still pouring out of his leg like some fucking broken dam, he realized he couldn't wait forever. She wasn't some angel that would come back to heal him.

If she'd really come to senses, she would know what is good for her and stay away.

Grunting he stood up and limped away from the campfire. After only a few steps the world was spinning around him and he crouched down again, spitting on the ground. "Fuck," he grumbled. He had to call Angel, tell him he needed a pick-up because he'd lost too much blood. He took his phone out of his pocket and just as the screen lit up he heard footsteps behind him.

"Getting impatient, huh?"

Coco looked over his shoulder, feeling a strange sense of relief at the sight of her. "Figured you would let me down."

"Nah. Told you I'd be back."

"Yeah well, I've seen some of your mood swings tonight. From wavin' with a gun to behavin' like some hot nurse."

"I'm full of surprises."

Coco smirked. Hell yeah, she was. He limped back to the campfire. Even though he could have done it by himself, he didn't miss the opportunity to swing an arm around her shoulders. For someone who was living like a fuckin' hobo she smelled so fucking good.

She helped him onto the ground and used a bottle of water to wash his wound. He gritted his teeth as the liquid stung his gutted leg while looking up to her concentrated face.

"So what's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all alone?"

"I'm keeping away the wolves."

"You always fixing 'em up afterward?" He showed her a wolfish grin.

He watched her eyes moved across his face and he wondered if she liked what she saw. He knew he wasn't the most handsome man out there, but unless his blood loss was messing with his head, he thought he felt some tension between them.

"I'm sorry," she said, and for the first time there was no mocking tone in her voice. "I didn't know you were a Mayan. You guys aren't the type going around raping girls in the middle of the desert."

"I hope not."

"What were you doin' at the camp?"

She had focused her eyes on the wound again. Coco moved his glance to her fingers and watched how they gently stitched the wound and dressed it. Talking to her did something to him, the pain faded like she was some drug that almost knocked him off his feet.

"Adelita is lookin' for a partnership," he said, a bit hesitating. He didn't know how much she was supposed to know but this girl was no idiot.

Her shoulders dropped a bit as if she had tensed awaiting his answer, he raised his eyebrows waiting for her to reciprocate.

"Sometimes, I need some time alone," she explained. "To think about things. This ain't an easy life."

Coco could imagine. He wondered what had happened to her, in what way the cartel had harmed her, but he knew better than asking about it.

She stood up. "I stopped the bleeding, but you should still go see a doctor. I can take you to the hospital."

He frowned. "Got a car?"

She smirked. "Got a bike?"

"I can ride myself."

"No you can't. It's a long ride and you've lost a lot of blood."

Suddenly Coco felt tired. Even though he didn't like anyone riding on his bike, he was wondering how her back against his chest would feel and before he knew it, he'd agreed. With a grunt she helped him to his feet and put an arm around him to support him.

"Does my killer nurse also have a name?"

"Florence."

"Nightingale? Sweet." He leaned a bit more into her when the rugged terrain almost made him stumble. "I'm Coco."

"That just sounds dumb."

With a grin he looked aside. Her dark hair swept across her narrow shoulders and her angled bangs hung in front of her right eye. Her baggy clothes hid her figure and he was already picturing her in a tiny dress. His concentration slipped away for a moment and he tripped over a rock and fell on the ground.

She'd stepped away before he could drag her along and his face was burning with shame.

If he'd ever wanted to see her in that tiny dress, he surely had to do better than this. He scrambled on his feet before she could help him and made the last meters to his bike on his own.

"Still wanna take me to the hospital?" he asked, suddenly feeling really embarrassed.

"Yeah, don't want you to slide underneath a truck."

"That would be a waste, huh?"

"Absolutely." Her hand stroked the metal of his bike. "She's a beauty."