PART FIVE: CHAPTER 171

Rack

The knife wound runs down my side from under my arm to the top of my hip. It burns like a motherfucker, and the tequila does little to stop the pain as the needle sinks into my flesh. The stitches are far from professional, but they’ll do the job and close the skin, keeping muscle and tissue on the inside where they belong.

Never strangle a man with a knife in his hand is my new motto. He sliced into my side before I could stop him. He’s dead now and I’m alive, so I’ll take it as a lesson learned. Putting up with Gomez’s shit for my stupidity isn’t helping me feel the love as he stitches me up.

“Fuck,” he swears as he wipes his bloody hands on a blood-covered cloth. I look down at myself as he readjusts his grip on the large needle. “You can’t do things halfway, can you?” he taunts as the needle punctures my skin again.

I take another pull from the bottle and suck in a breath as he works the needle through the skin on the other side and ties off another stitch. “The son of a b