POV: Victoria
"Awww," I yelled out in pain, touching my head to massage the spot I hit on him. On instinct, I yelled at him for hurting my head,
"What do you have in there that is as strong as a wall?" I asked ignorantly, touching his chest to feel its hardness. I did it on instinct, but when I heard his throaty groan, I realized what I just did and I pulled my hand away quickly. I looked away from his steel face and moved away as fast as I could. I didn't even realize where I was going until I saw myself sitting on the bench in front of the hospital again.
I can't believe I'd caressed his chest in public. His sturdy chest felt like hard rock, and his abs were so strong and firm, making him look hot and enticing. For a guy who claims not to feel anything, I was surprised when he groaned in pleasure at my touch. He's sure fooling everyone, but certainly not me.
"About to sleep, Huh?" He asked me, reminding me of my mistake of lying to him earlier. Gosh, I'd completely forgotten about that.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I.."
"Lie to me one more time and the deal is off." He threatened me fiercely, his gaze fierce and scary. I nodded in understanding, smiling to ease the tension in the air.
"Fine, no more lies!" I let out playfully to him, extending my hand for a handshake. He looked at my hand and my eyes followed his. We both panicked when we saw blood in my hand. I stood up immediately, checking my body for an injury, but finding none. Then I recalled that I'd touched his chest with this hand. I turned to him in panic and reached for the zipper of his black letter jacket. That was when I saw that his shirt was soaked with blood. He is bleeding, and yet he is acting so strong and tough.
"Oh my God, what happened to you, Ralph, you are bleeding!" I yelled in panic as I got up to attend to the injury I spotted on his chest. It was a gunshot, and I wonder what he has been up to this evening.
"Fuck, I'm hit!" he let out in surprise.
"You're hit?
What is that supposed to mean?" I yelled in panic, my heart beating faster than usual.
"It means I just got shot, can't you see?" he retorted in an icy tone, groaning in pain. I can't believe that he didn't know he was shot, could it be true that he doesn't feel a thing, have I been wrong about his illness all this while?
He got up from the bench with his hand pressed to his shoulder. I watched in shock as he staggered and fell face down while trying to walk to his car. He yelled in pain groaning and holding his shoulder to stop the bleeding. I ran up to his side, but I didn't know what to do, I didn't even know where to touch him so that he wouldn't feel offended.
I can't believe he didn't pass out when he fell down. He's one tough bastard, I thought in my head. He has lost a lot of blood, his whole body is soaked with his blood. How on earth did he not feel his shirt clinging to his body when it's soaked with blood.
"What do I do?
What do I do?
How the hell did this happen, how could this happen without you knowing?
The ambulance!
Yes, I need to call the cops, I need an ambulance!" I let out in confusion.
"No!
No cops, and no ambulance!
Just call Carl, I… I… I… need him to…"
"To what?
Come on, Ralph, you can't pass out now. Tell me what you need, how do I help?" I asked him. But I could as well be talking to myself because he was out cold. I picked up my phone to call Carl then I realized that I didn't have Carl's number. The last time I met him, he called me a gold-digging whore that is set on using his boss to gain fame and wealth. I didn't get the chance to ask for his number when he was yelling at me and calling me mean names.
"Please don't die!
Please don't die!" I pleaded with his unconscious body as I knelt by his side and dug through his pocket, searching for his phone. It took me a few minutes, and then I found it. I sighed in relief when it asked for his thumbprint. It would been a huge disappointment if it asked for a password. I know nothing about the guy, it'll be practically impossible to guess his password.
I found Carl's number on his speed dial and I called him immediately. He must be sitting next to his phone, waiting for Ralph's call because he picked on the first ring,
"I don't know what happened, he was fine one minute and the next minute he's bleeding and I find out he's been shot and he fell down and passed and said he needs you. So I got his phone and I used his fingerprint and I…"
"Slow down, miss, you are not making any sense. Where is Mr Hawkins?" he used me when I wouldn't stop blabbing a whole lot of nonsense to him.
"He's passed out in front of me." I responded tearfully.
"Oh my God!
What if he's dead, what will I tell the cops, what will I do?" I panicked again.
"No!
No cops and no ambulance!" he warned me, sounding just like his boss. What are these guys into?
"Where are you?" he asked in a hurry. I told him we were in front of the hospital and he hung up immediately. I didn't know if he would come or not, I just knelt beside Raphael pulled off my shirt, and covered his bleeding shoulder with it. He was getting pale and I couldn't help the feeling of fear that gripped me as I gazed at his face.
"Please don't die, Raphael. Please don't die, I'm just getting to know you." I let out sadly. I may not know him, but he just saved my mom's life and I haven't replaced the favor yet. It hurt me to see him this way.
"Move away from him," Carl ordered me the moment he got there. He checked his heartbeat and his pupils first, then he beckoned to a guard standing next to the car and they both lifted Ralph and put him in the back of a van. I ran after them and got into the van to see what they were doing to him. I found out the bus is a makeshift ambulance, it has everything you need to give first aid.
They laid Ralph on a strolled bed and I saw Carl swoop into action as if he had done this before. I couldn't help wondering if he had been shot before. Is this a normal occurrence in the life of Raphael Hawkins?
What the hell did I just get myself into?
"You can leave now to attend to your family affairs, I'll take it from here." He told me sternly.
"I'm not leaving until he opens his eyes and I see that he's getting better. I was with him when he passed out it's my responsibility to make sure he gets back on his feet." I told him sternly.
"Very well, make yourself useful and rip off his shirt." He ordered sternly. I squinted my eyes, surprised he didn't force me out.
"You are cool with it, I mean, you won't force me out of here?" I asked in shock.
"Why would I?
You're his girlfriend, aren't you?" he teased, more like mocked actually.
I ignored the sarcasm in his response and I got scissors and ripped off his shirt as he instructed. He stood next to Ralph, his sleeves folded as he pulled out a huge blood bag from a cooler he kept next to him. He checked his heartbeat one more time before connecting the blood to his vein. Then he opened the gun wound and used sterilized scissors to pull out the bullet. He disinfected the wound and sewed it up skillfully, doing it like a real surgeon.