His Woman (18+)

Chapter IX

THE FLIGHT

Worry about the things that are worth worrying about, sweetheart.

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CHAPTER IX

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THE PRIVATE JET was only five minutes away from landing, but to me it felt like that wouldn't be quick enough. To me it felt like Daniel was only seconds away from dying.

"He's got a high fever and is bleeding out profusely," I told Pablo. He nodded before walking away to deliver the message to the pilots who were speaking with the paramedics waiting for us at the airport.

"Just keep applying pressure on the wound, Ara, he'll be fine," one if the security detail said to me. I glanced up at him briefly before nodding and bringing my attention back to Daniel.

The good news was that he was unconscious so he probably couldn't feel how painful it was. The bad news was that... he was unconscious.

I sighed and used my other hand to wipe his brown hair out of his face as Pablo walked over to us. "The pilot said that he's about to land so you need to put on your seat belt."

"Then how am I going to continue applying pressure to his wound?" I asked in outrage as Pablo took a seat in one of the luxurious, golden chairs of the jet and buckled himself in.

"You're going to have to try, Ara, because if something happens to you, who's going to take care of him?" He pointed to Daniel and I saw reason in his words.

With a begrudging nod, I slowly manoeuvred myself off the floor and onto a seat facing Pablo. I pulled Daniel's torso into mine and held onto his unmoving body as tight as I could as I felt the plane start to decline.

The ground started meeting us quickly and for a second, I felt a wave of panic wash over me as I believed we were actually crashing instead of landing. I calmed down significantly when all the wheels made contact with the runway's tar and the pilot began driving the plane to where we were supposed to stop.

A smile almost grew on my face as I realised that I had spent most of the flight worrying about Daniel, I didn't even have time to panic about the fact that I was flying.

Daniel woke up that morning feeling sick. He couldn't keep down his food and sweat constantly trickled down his neck even though he claimed to be cold. We knew it probably had something to do with his bullet wound, but we didn't think it would get serious enough to halt our travel plans.

So we hopped in the cars and the drivers drove us a couple minutes to the airport where Daniel's private jet was waiting to pick us up.

According to him, the reason why we didn't travel here with it was because he wanted to lay low. Now, there was nothing to lay low from.

It was halfway during the flight that we noticed how he had bled through his bandages and his black shirt. His forehead was burning when I touched it and then suddenly, when he passed out, that's how I knew that whatever was going on was very serious.

And could possibly be life-threatening.

Once the plane came to a complete halt, the airport paramedics made quick work to fix up the stairs and open the door. They ushered all the guards out including Pablo, but they didn't make me go away because he was leaning completely against me. He didn't fall like that, but I had to find a comfortable way to apply continuous pressure somehow.

Once they reached us, they slowly pried my bloody hands and the red face towel I was holding against Daniel's wound off his body. They tore up his shirt with a sharp razor and slowly started to unwind the sluggishly made bandage around his wound.