Free BUFF by Mandy Burns

moisture revives life in him, he awakes with a startled gasp. She withdraws, her hands still framing his face. “Okay... You're okay." She can’t fight back her grin. She doesn’t want to.
    His face turns a sickly gray. She looks down at his side. The blood around his wound is oozing small drops.
    “Listen to me, I need you to stay still and put pressure on the wound.” She grabs the pillow above his head. “Hold this against the wound…. Colt...” Her fingers clasp him underneath his chin, forcing his attention solely at her. “Look at me."
    His half-lid eyes are unfocused, the blue overcast with fever. He licks his upper lip sluggishly like it takes all the strength in the world to do so. “I need you to look at me, okay? Focus, Colt. You need to go to the hospital—“
    He responds fast, shaking his head as he tries to sit up. “No! No they’ll kill me,” he grunts. “I'm fine… just fine."
    “Then let me get you some medicine." Before he can utter his next words she cuts him off, “I don't have time to argue with you.” She gently moves his chin up, his eyelids drifting up and down. “Colt. Pay attention. I'll be right back. I’m going to get you some meds, just don't move. Keep the pillow on your wound."
    He moves his mouth to talk but coughs hard into his hand. The congestion in his cough sounds like it has the beginnings of bronchitis, but Becky forces herself to ignore that possibility. She brushes her hand up and down his arm as his coughing fit dies down. “Shssh… It's okay."
    “No…” He shakes his head again, his face red and taut. “…They'll be… suspicious."
    “Let me take care of that,” she says, ignoring his weak protest. “I know someone who can help. Just please listen to me and say still, I don't want your wound opening anymore. I'm going to get bigger gauzes and more disinfectant for the wound." His lids are bobbing again. If she doesn’t get the help he needs she’s going to lose him. She squeezes his chin with her fingers. “Hey.” She jerks him up hard. “Did you hear me?" His breathing evens out a bit but it remains shallow and faint. His stare meets hers after several seconds of struggle. “Promise me you’ll do as I say." He nods his head. “Promise me?"
    The murkiness clinging to him parts for a second and he holds her gaze. “Promise.”
    She releases him gently, taking the cushion from the bed and places it under his head. “I'll be right back. Just hold on.”
    His eyes are already closed. She allows herself a second to study him then glances out toward the window.
    Outside, the Sun is rising. But in her world it still feels very much like night.
    There is only one person who can help her. And the thought of it makes her sick to the stomach.
    Time to make a deal with the Devil.

Chapter Eight
    MOTEL 66. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.
    He is right where she expected him to be. At a motel. With a prostitute.
    Becky had phoned him, asking to meet, saying it was urgent. He had insisted she come meet him.
    She sucks in a deep breath. She’s just about to undo five years’ worth of self-therapy.
    “Emmett.”
    He sways a little as he comes out from his motel room. “Rebecca Emma Appleton. Finally come to your senses. Ever had a threesome? I don’t mind paying.”
    Emmett Irving is a decent looking man to any passing woman. He’s tall with chiseled good looks, blue eyes, dark brown hair. His jaw is sharp and strong and he has a great build. His all-American exterior will make any unsuspecting out-of-towner take a second and third detailed gaze. But if they find out what he’d done to her, they’ll see what lurks beneath is rotten. All the way to his blackened soul. Her skin crawls with an army of slugs and she wants to… run. Hide away. But…
    This is for Colt. He’ll die if I don’t do something.
    “I, um…” She just needs to do it. Time is not on Colt’s side. “I need a favor."
    The corner of his mouth tugs up. “I must have heard wrong. You want