Chapter 545 Chapter 545
Blaise flipped a few more pages and skimmed what he’d written down. He hadn’t been kidding, he knew a lot. She wasn’t privy to what the Alliance knew, but she was sure his information was going to change everything. Setting it on the table, she got up and went over to the window.
Was the storm finally moving on? It was hard to tell now that it was night. Wiping her hand over the glass, she leaned closer. With the blowing snow, it was impossible to see if it had or not.
A thud from the bathroom made her spin around. Going over, she listened outside the door.
“Are you good in there?” There was no reply. She couldn’t hear any water running either. There was no way he got out the window. She’d tried the bars on it and hadn’t been able to budge them at all.
Grasping the doorknob, she tried it. It turned, which was good. Breaking down the bathroom door in Raymond’s getaway spot would have been embarrassing to explain. She opened the door a few inches, not wanting to get an eyeful of anything that they’d both regret. The door hit something and wouldn’t open any further. Looking down, she saw blood on the white tiles and a leg stopping her from opening it further. Shoving the door, she saw the man she was in charge of lying on the floor. Blood was all over his hands, the side of his face, and his neck.
Dropping to her knees, she reached over and grabbed a towel. Had he fallen and cracked his head open? Running her hand over his head, she frowned; there was no bump or blood there. A steady stream of blood ran down his neck. She dabbed at it with the towel. Leaning over, she saw the source of it was a hole ripped into the skin near his spine. Pressing the towel over it, she looked around for the source of the puncture. He must have slipped and shanked himself on a sharp corner or—what looked like a spring lay on the floor. One end of it had been straightened and it was covered in blood. What the hell? She looked around and spotted what was left of the toilet paper holders roller lying on the floor.
Holy shit.
Holding the towel firm with one hand, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and set it on the floor. Hitting Kenzo’s number, she tapped speaker and slid it so it would clear the door and allow a signal.
“Blaise?”
“Boss. I have a 911 situation here.” She tucked her hair back from her face and then cringed and looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. Scowling, she raised it to her face and inhaled. It smelled like —
“Details,” Kenzo said impatiently.
Shaking her head, she looked down at the unconscious man and put her fingers against his throat. His pulse was weak. “Where is the tracker in our friend?” She still didn’t trust the phones to say too much.
“Back of his neck. Why? The surgical team will get there once the roads are passable…”
“He tried to cut it out with a spring from the toilet paper holder.”
“What?” She heard a door slam.
“He’s unconscious and,” she moved the soaked towel enough to see, “bleeding all over the place.”
“Shit. Hang on. I’m getting Illias to call medical.”
She glanced at the phone for a second. Hang on? And do what? She looked around to see if there was a med kit in the room. Stretching, she opened the cupboard and almost sighed to see a first aid kit. Squatting over him, so she could keep the towel in place, she grabbed it and dropped it on the floor. It slid away from her as she tried to open the zipper. Snarling at it, she braced it between her knee and his back, so it would stay put.
“Blaise.”
“Still here. I found the first aid kit.” The stupid thing finally opened, and she dug in it, “there’s no wound seal in here to slow the bleeding, boss.”
“Doctor wants to know where exactly it is.”
She straightened, “back of his neck.”
“Yes. Where? How close to his spine, is it in muscle?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Anatomy really isn’t my thing.” Causing injuries was more her thing, but she didn’t say that. Kenzo was well aware of her skills.
“Assess and give us an approximate.”
Blowing out a breath, she knelt and moved the towel to one side, she had to override the sarcasm and remember it was her boss on the other end, “two fingers width from the spine.” The amount of blood was starting to freak her out. She moved the towel the other to see the other side and then pushed along the slippery blood-soaked flesh. “It doesn’t feel like it’s in any big muscles.” She could hear talking. Flipping the towel, she rolled it to a dry spot.
“That’s not good.” He finally said.
She sneered at the phone. “No shit, boss. It’s still leaking steady.”
“It will be impossible to stitch it up without help.”
She nodded, she wasn’t sewing anyone’s skin, with or without help.
“They want you to cauterize it.”
She glared over at the phone, “with what?” The idea of burning his flesh made her stomach roll.
“Uh, Illias says heat a blade on the stove burner.”
Clicking her teeth together, she looked out at the woodstove. If she stopped applying pressure, he could bleed out before she got back to seal it. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m going to have to drag him closer, or he’s going to bleed out on the floor.”
“Do it.”