If The Seas Catch Fire(125)

Everything shifted to one side. Then the other.

More gunfire. An engine roaring too close.

Another blast, and Sergei’s ears rang again.

Impact. Wobbling.

Tires squealed and the world listed.

Weightless. Bang.

Nothing.





Chapter 36


The airbag hit Dom hard enough to stun him.

Everything was still.

His ears were filled with cotton, and his head throbbed. He wiped blood from his lip, and he murmured, “Sergei?”

No answer.

“Sergei?” He craned his neck gingerly. The backseat was empty.

Oh God. Tell me he wasn’t thrown out.

Then a shadow caught his eye. He felt around for the dome light, turned it on, and swore.

Sergei hadn’t been thrown, but he was between the front and backseats, motionless, with a lot of blood on his clothes and smeared across the upholstery.

“Oh shit.” Despite the pain, Dom scrambled out of the car. He scanned the area—the other car was wheels up. The night was silent except the idling engine and the whine of one tire still spinning uselessly in the air. He kept his gun close just in case, but his highest priority was Sergei.

He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed Rojas. As it rang, he pulled open the door, climbed back into the car, and touched Sergei’s neck. Still a pulse, thank God. “Sergei? Can you hear me?”

Sergei stirred, mumbling something.

“Stay with me, Sergei, I’m—”

The phone clicked. “Dom? What’s wrong?”

“I need help.”

There was movement on the other end, as if Rojas were walking quickly. “Where are you?”

“Highway 103. There’s two wrecks out here. I’m the second one.”

“That’s not good.” Rojas paused. A million questions on his mind, no doubt. Then, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. What kind of injuries?”

“Sergei’s bleeding. There’s a shitload of blood.”

A car door slammed, and an engine turned over. “Where’s the blood coming from? Head? Neck? Anything vital?”

“Hard to see. I don’t want to move him or—”

“Paralysis might be the least of his worries if he’s sprung a big enough leak.”

“Hang on.” Phone in hand, he tugged Sergei’s shoulder as gently as he could and shined the cell phone’s light into the shadows.

Immediately, his heart sank.

Oh, no…

He tucked the phone into his shoulder and felt pressed his hand against the wound. “Doc, it looks like a gunshot.”

“A gun—oh f*ck. Where?”

“Chest. Near the middle.”

“He’s going to need a hospital.” On the other end, an engine whined. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but we’re going to need to put him in my car and get him out of there fast.”

“Should I wait until you’re here to move him?”

Rojas didn’t answer immediately, and if not for the sound of the engine, Dom would’ve though they’d disconnected. Finally, he said, “No. I want to put a C-collar on him. That’ll take a few seconds, and then we can move him to the car. Just keep pressure on that wound until I get there.”

The line went dead.

Dom pulled off his shirt, wadded it up, and pressed it against Sergei’s chest. “Hang in there. The doc’s on his way.”

Sergei groaned.

“Can you hear me?”

Another groan, this time more of an affirmative.

“Doc’s on his way. Just hold as still as you can and stay with me, all right?”

“Y-yeah.”

Dom pushed the shirt against the wound, and Sergei whimpered.

“Fuck,” he ground out. “Should’ve… shot you when I had the chance.”

Dom laughed, more from relief than the comment. Maybe Sergei was more coherent than he thought. “Sense of humor’s still intact. That’s a good sign.”

Sergei groaned. He tried to push Dom’s hand away.

“Leave it,” Dom said. “You’re bleeding.”

“Can’t… breathe.”

“You can talk.” Dom took Sergei’s wrist with his free hand, and gently moved it out of the way. “Help’s coming. Just hang in there. Okay?”

Sergei moaned but didn’t speak.

Dom’s stomach twisted. The truth was becoming less deniable by the second—if Sergei didn’t get help, he was going to die. But 911 would mean paramedics, and paramedics would mean cops. Dom would happily go to jail to save Sergei, but the cops in this town had been known to take people to jail before taking them to a hospital, and he was getting Sergei help or he’d die trying.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, and kissed Sergei’s temple. “You’ve come way too far to lose.”

Dom had no idea how much time passed, but headlights in the shattered rear window made his heart clench.

Please, let it be Rojas…

“Dom?” The doctor’s voice. Thank God.

“In here,” Dom called out. To Sergei, he said, “The doc’s here.”

Sergei moaned again.

Rojas opened the other car door. He had a cervical collar in his hand and quickly put it into place. “This will stabilize his neck. Not much we can do about his back if we want to get him to a hospital in time.”