Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 78.

"I’m going to go outside for a bit," I say.

Margaret glances at me, then toward the back door. "Take a sweater, it’s chilly outside."

"I will."

The air outside is indeed cool. I sit on the low step near the garden, wrapping my arms around myself.

I don’t know how long I sit there, but I hear footsteps crunch behind me sometime later.

"Elaine."

Aaron’s voice sounds like a whisper, I sigh guessing he’s heard the news too.

"You don’t have to whisper," I say. "I’m not that fragile."

He stops a few feet away. "Didn’t say you were."

I glance back at him. He looks uncomfortable in that way men get when they want to help but don’t know how.

"Margaret said you were up," he says.

"I am."

He shifts his weight. "Do you... want company."

I consider lying, but I don’t .

"Yeah," I say. "For a bit."

He sits on the step below me, close but not touching. We watch the garden in silence. Birds hop along the fence. Somewhere, a lawn mower hums.

"I’m sorry," he says after a while.

"For what."

"For everything I guess?. I get why you didn’t want people to know, now everyone is acting strange with you. Myself included."

Another pause.

"You scared him," Aaron says.

I don’t need to ask who I already know.

"He shouldn’t be scared," I reply. "It’s not his life and it’s not like he cares or anything like that ."

Aaron doesn’t argue.

"You don’t owe anyone explanations," he says. "But... you don’t have to do this alone either. We are friends... right?."

I look at him a smile pulling at my lips. " Yes we are friends. But I’ve been doing this alone for months now kinda got used to it."

He glances at me then looks away again. "Still shouldn’t have to."

My chest tightens. I stand before he can say anything else.

"I’m tired," I say. "I think I’ll go lie down again."

"Okay," he says immediately. "I’ll be around if you need anything."

I head back inside, up the stairs but instead of Zane’s bedroom I go into the smaller sitting room instead and curl up on the couch, pulling a blanket over myself.

My body gives in fast this time, sleep dragging me under so fast.

I wake up to voices, actually no to someone groaning in pain.

I stay still at first, trying to listen in maybe sleep was just messing with me but another sound cuts through the air, sharper this time. Pain, unmistakable.

My first thought is to stay where I am, the second is to go see what’s happening.

I push myself upright. The room tilts for a second, my vision dimming around the edges. I wait it out, breathing slowly until the dizziness backs off enough to let me stand fully. My bbare feet slap the floor and the voices next door pause, then resume again, quieter now, like they’ve realized I might hear.

That settles it.

I get up, cross the short distance from my door to theirs and push it open without knocking.

The room I step into smells like metal and alcohol and something darker underneat.Blood?. I take a sniff to confirm and yeah it’s blood there’s no mistaking it.

Thomas is slumped on the couch, his back pressed into the cushions, his jaw clenched hard enough that I can see the muscle jumping. There’s another man standing near him, one I’ve seen around the house a few times but never formally met. Broad shoulders, tense stance, eyes flicking to the door the second I walk in.

They both straighten up when they see me, instinctively trying to look normal.

Thomas doesn’t make it far. He sucks in a sharp breath and collapses back onto the couch, his hand flying to his side.

"Elaine," he mutters. "You shouldn’t be in here."

I ignore him and move closer. There are towels and cloths piled against his abdomen, already dark and wet.... Too wet.

"What happened?" I ask.

"It’s nothing," he says.

I reach for the cloths.

"Elaine...."

I yank them away.

The wound underneath is ugly, deep and angry. Blood wells immediately, bright against hiskin.

My stomach drops.

"That’s looks like a fucking bullet wound!."

Silence answers me.

I look up. Both men won’t meet my eyes. The standing one rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and Thomas stares at the ceiling like it might rescue him.

"Was the bullet removed?" I ask.

"Yes," the other man says quickly. "It went clean through. There’s a doctor on call for..... Uhmm when stuff like this happens, his currently on his way."

"How often does this happen," I ask, my voice sharp now, "that you have a doctor on call?"

No answer.

I glance around the room. It doesn’t take long to spot the metal tray on the side table. Guaze, alcohol , forceps and other medical stuff tucked neatly beside a roll of bandage.

"I’m guessing this is his medical room?," I say.

"Yes," the man admits.

"Then get me a kit."

They both stare at me like I’ve lost my mind.

"I said get me a kit."

Thomas shakes his head realizing what I intend to do . "No. Absolutely not."

"You’re bleeding through the towels," I snap. "So you can either let me clean it and close the wound up , or you can keep bleeding to death while we wait for someone who isn’t here yet."

"I said no."

I lean closer, lowering my voice so only he hears me. "Thomas, you’re not being brave. You’re being stupid. I see how lightheaded you look, you’re sweating profusely and you’re bleeding wayyy too much. I bet you can already feel the life draining out of you."

His jaw tightens and he looks away.

"I grew up with three brothers," I continue. "They did dumb things and got hurt a lot. Didn’t want our parents to know so I learned how to stitch because someone had to take care of them. So don’t worry it’s been a while I might be a little rusty but I am kinda good at it."

He exhales, shaky and defeated. "I hate needles."

"That makes two of us."