IV

Fuck.

Aides gestured for the bouncer to take a step back, urging others around them to do the same as well.

“Paul”, he spoke cautiously and in a tone that starkly contrasted the polite voice he’d used before, “I am going to tell you this only once. Put down that gun.”

All Reigh could do was stare, her eyes looking for the bullet she knew had to be somewhere down that barrel.

This. This is why she’d wanted to leave Thomas and his batshit crazy, fucked up, dysfunctional family.

She’d so hoped never to find herself in this situation again.

“She comes with me”, Paul persevered, his eyes flickering from Reigh to Aides to the guard and back. She could be mistaken, but she thought she saw actual foam forming at the corner of his mouth. “I am only going to tell you this once more, too. I’ll leave, but the bitch leaves with me.”

Part of Reigh was actually considering granting him this one request. What was her alternative? If he left now, alone, she was fucked for the rest of her life. If he left with her she was fucked too - quite possibly literally -, but at the very least she’d get to resume her life after that.

Could it really be that much worse than sleeping with Thomas?

Nobody was moving a muscle, not even the people that had been busy getting the fuck out of here a few seconds ago. Instead everyone was staring in anticipation. There hung a certain eagerness in the air that was sickening to Reigh’s stomach.

A single chuckle arose from Paul’s chest, then another, and then he gradually lowered the gun a few inches as he allowed the roaring laughter to take over completely.

“You really thought-”

He had to take a few seconds to calm himself down to the point where he could breathe again before he could continue.

“How stupid do you think I am?”

Some other people could be heard chuckling as well now, though mainly to give an outlet to the nervous tension that bathed the lounge. The breath of air Reigh hadn’t know she’d been holding escaped her lips in an almost inaudible sigh, but she had yet to unfreeze from her rigid stance.

“You really thought I was going to shoot you, huh?”

Yes, she’d really thought that. In fact she had trouble coming up with reasons why she wouldn’t want him to. It would put her out of her misery, at least.

“Fuck no”, Paul continued, a grin taking over now that the laughter had slowly come to an halt. “I’m not an idiot. If I shoot you, Thomas will want my head. There is no way he is going to pay me for giving up your location if he has to come collect you in a body bag. I would never hear the end of it. Not to mention you’d loose quite a bit of your appeal if one of your limbs would have to be amputated...”

The joke was lost on everyone but Paul, it seemed, but that didn’t dull his sudden, coke-fueled happy mood in the slightest. Shaking his head he talked on.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty little body of yours by giving it a handicap. A handicapped business partner, however... Don’t see why that should be a problem for me.”

Reigh’s first reaction was to scream, but the ear deafening shot rendered her motionless for a moment. Almost immediately her hands flew to her chest, searching for the hole she just knew had to be there.

Much to her surprise, the fingers met with firm skin wherever she poked. In a morbid combination of surprise and horror she opened her eyes and looked down at herself, finding no blood soaking through her top.

She'd live.

All hell broke lose. Finally Reigh’s fight and flight instinct was given free range, but before she could act accordingly the shadow of a man flew past her and almost toppled her over.

Most people - like her - were trying to make sense of the situation. Security was screaming at everyone to get out, and someone to her left was calling what she guessed was the emergency line. To her right a person had started to sob uncontrollably.

Reigh’s ears were ringing with the noise of the shot, and the sensation was made only more uncomfortable by the way her head was spinning from the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Paul, a little voice in the back of her head urged her on. She couldn’t let that fucker get away.

The security guard that had been here moments before was nowhere to be seen, but neither was the culprit he was most likely chasing. Reigh turned her head to the side, realizing the only person that hadn’t moved from his spot was Aides. He stood cursing loudly, his hands reaching for his upper leg.

“Oh fuck.”

She breathed the word out with force, noticing just how much blood was spilling from between his fingers. It was soaking his dress pants in rapid quantities, some of it already dripping on the hard wood below.

“Oh God... Alright. Okay.”

Mentally Reigh was going over all the first aid classes she’d followed back in high school, all the while offering him her arm for support. Think, she mentally forced herself to focus through the blind panic. Something about pressure. A touri- tourne- fuck that, a belt.

Aides objected at first, but the pain soon forced him to give up as Reigh pushed for him to lean on her shoulder. The forced breathing right next to her ear did little to help clear her mind.

“'Right then”, she muttered, trying her best not to let the strain of his weight seep into her voice. “You’re doing fine, I think. Just, you know, stay calm.”

Once she’d managed to get him to sit down she caught a glimpse of the actual wound. The sight of it was enough to make insides churn uncomfortably, but thankfully not enough to introduce her boss to her stomach's contents just yet.

“I’m fine, miss Harlow. Breathe.”

Aides grimaced, surprising Reigh by addressing her by name. For a moment his gaze locked with hers, dark eyes gauging her response. When he realized the state of panic she was in, he started to unbuckle his belt himself, pulling it from his waistband and handing it to her with a stern look.

“Just tie this around my leg as tight as you can. It will slow the bleeding.”

She stared at the piece of leather a bit uncomfortably, realizing she was going to have fasten it right below his groin if she wanted it to be above the bullet wound. If he was wearing loose-fitting underwear...

“Today. Please.”

Right.

Trying her best not to increase the solid stream of muttered curses that was already escaping his lips, she wiggled the belt beneath his injured leg, taking care not to touch the wound itself. A firm yank was needed to fasten the thing around tightly, but her hands were shaking so much that she didn’t have much muscle power left.

After a few seconds Aides wrapped his hands around hers, helping her pull it to a point where it would stop at least most of the blood flow. She could have sworn she literally saw his eyes flare up at the sudden jab of pain.

"Malaka. Pare ta archidya mu“, he swore again, seemingly forgetting about her for a moment due to the pain. The hand that wasn’t covered in blood brushed through his dark hair, keeping it from sticking to his forehead.

When his eyes returned to their usual place and hue he breathed out through grimly tightened lips, seemingly trying very hard not to glare at her too much.

“Thanks for that. Now relax, miss Harlow. It won’t take the doctor long to get here.”

Reigh simply nodded, realizing the stupidity of the situation. He was comforting her, all while she was fluttering around him like a butterfly on acid. Her first-aid teacher was probably turning in his grave as they spoke.

“Thanks”, she parroted, throwing a look over her shoulder in hopes anyone could give her any reassurance that the belt was indeed doing a solid job of keeping most of his blood inside. Not that it was at the top of her mind at the moment, but if she became the indirect reason that the owner of this joint died she highly doubted she’d get to keep her job.

It took all of five minutes for actual first aid to arrive, but when it did it did so with quite a bit of noise.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m here!”, a voice boomed through the now mostly empty VIP-lounge as a woman dressed in a doctor’s coat and sky-high heels marched through the space. Her hair hung loose and was straightened to perfection, and her make-up looked like she'd come straight from a shoot.

For a moment Reigh thought this had to be some kind of joke, but when the woman saw Aides sitting on the ground she send him a smile that hinted towards familiarity.

“That looks painful”, she mused, pulling her hair into a ponytail and buttoning up the coat so that the red hot dress beneath was completely hidden. “My apologies for being late. I was out for dinner with Dev, and the traffic is a bit crazy tonight. How is he?”

The question seemed to be directed towards Reigh, but she wasn’t quite sure how to answer it. If movies were anything to go by Aides should have been on his back wriggling and screaming right now, but obviously that wasn’t the case. He actually looked annoyed more than anything.

“I’m fine”, Aides took over the conversation, grunting in a tone that could sour milk. “You know perfectly well that I am fine, Maria. Mi gínese malákas. Just get me up and out of here.”

Reigh had expected the female doctor to object, but instead she just chuckled and started pulling at his arm rather unceremoniously to get him on his feet. Within seconds Reigh shot up from her position to help out at his other side.

“No stretcher?”, she squealed, feeling somewhat concerned that everyone else seemingly wasn’t that concerned. “No ambulance?”

The woman simply shook her head, amusement audible in her voice. “Ambulance?”, she questioned, eyeing Aides for a moment to gauge his response, “no worries love, there is no need for that. He’ll be like new before long, I’m sure.”

Of course, Reigh mimicked the voice inside her head, staring at the woman with an unhealthy mixture of disbelieve and suspicion. Because gunshots wounds were obviously best treated by popping an aspirin and sleeping it off.

Did this lady score her degree online?

“Enough, Maria”, Aides muttered in agitation as he gauged the way Reigh’s cheeks were getting redder by the second. “Stop fucking around and just get me home already.”

And then, as if in afterthought and directed at two other men that were apparently still there as well, “Get miss Harlow to my place. She’s staying to be questioned. Give her a ride, will you?”