Okay, so I wasn't the most helpful person to be around in these types of situations. And by situations, I mean the Feds (I was under the assumption they were cops until Nick pointed out their uniforms) shooting at a getaway car filled with a dangerous criminal organization whose leader was number one on the FBI's Most Wanted (yes, I checked) and a hostage with a missing eyebrow that willingly went with them and failed to warn said leader about a bullet that was now lodged in the back of said leader's head.

I didn't know how to react because I never thought I'd been in something like this. Cage was unconscious from the loss of blood (not dead, thankfully) and Heath was covered in it. The back seat of the car looked like a murder scene, and offering to make cat-shaped bandages wasn't helping.

"We need to go to Delia's." Nick said, his voice ringed with panic. I guess this didn't happen very often. Cage Vickers was the one person they were supposed to protect. Their lives for his, right? A small part of me blamed myself for Cage getting hurt. I should have stalled longer or not at all. Those precious few seconds could have been spent driving away, too far for a bullet to hit.

"I know." Micheal glanced at Cage through the rearview mirror, his knuckles white from holding the steering wheel so tightly. "We'll be there in a couple minutes. November, keep Cage upright. Make sure the blood doesn't flow into his head."

Heath let Cage go for a moment to fix the snow-filled towel. The car's movement suddenly shifted and Cage's head slumped right onto my shoulder. Horrified, I didn't know what to do. His body weight pinned me against the seat. Blood began to stain me as well. Trying to get over my nerves, I listened to what Micheal said and pushed Cage upright. Even though he was unconscious, I was intimidated. Eyes closed, Cage leaned on my shoulder. He was completely passed out and his face was a ghostly white.

"Be careful, I'm coming up on a couple ditches." Micheal warned.

Heath reached over and pressed the towel against Cage's neck again just as the car jumped up and down as we passed over one of the ditches. Micheal was driving on a rocky road with lots of woods giving privacy to the neighboring houses. Heath had a hard time keeping Cage stable. Blood continued to drip down and colour the entire backseat a dark scarlet.

The amount of blood Cage was losing worried the heck out of me. I had no hecks left in me because it worried me so much. I was fresh out of hecks to give. I was all hecked out. I don't know what I'm talking about. I was just so scared, I couldn't think straight. In fact, I couldn't think at all. My mind was just one big blank, trying to catch up with the horrible events that just happened. The Crows, their lives, it was insanity. Just complete and utter insanity.

Cage suddenly grunted and it freaked me out.

"Just a few more seconds." Micheal mumbled, turning into a gravel path. At the end of the driveway was another innocent looking house that the Feds might also siege, but never mind that. Yeah, never mind the fact that I was now running from the law and that pulled me deeper into the hole of trouble. Everything is fine. Evading law enforcement, no big deal.

As soon as the car rolled to a stop, they all went into action. I couldn't move because Cage's weight was crushing me, but I was more worried about him than I was about anything else. Micheal ran into the house, Heath sprang out, carrying the bags, and Nick helped Cage out of the car.

"Get him inside!"

"Delia, holy fuck-"

"He might need a blood transfusion, there is way too much in the backseat."

A woman came running out of the house, who I presumed to be Delia. She had salt and pepper hair and pretty blue eyes. Wearing a floral blouse, she looked to in her late forties and way too innocent-looking to be associated with a group like the Crows. I stood back, watching in shock as she shouted something in Russian.

"Come on, get him inside." Heath urged. Supported by Nick and Delia, Cage stumbled into the house. Well, it was more like he was dragged inside. For a man of such power, it was strange seeing the great and mighty Cage Vickers so helpless. A lump grew in my throat. Micheal waited as the rest went into the house and then came over.

"Are you okay?" Micheal asked with worry. "You look like you're about to pass out."

"It was my fault." I stared at the house, hearing a distant arguing emanate from inside. The lump got bigger. "I stalled. We could have gotten far off that they couldn't start shooting by the time they came inside. Cage is going to die because of me-"

"November, stop." He sighed. "Do not rip yourself apart with this. It's not your fault. What happened...happened. Cage is going to be fine. I saw the wound, it's barely a graze. I don't think the bullet went into him. Besides, it's not the first time Cage has been shot."

"What?"

"Oh come on. We're criminals. Getting shot is-"

"Terrible, Micheal!"

"It's common."

"Common? Getting shot is common?" I was flabbergasted.

Micheal lifted up his shirt, revealing a small circular scar with stitch marks going across it right underneath his ribcage He grinned at the horrified look on my face. "Yes, November. It happens all the time, don't worry. Delia's worked miracles on all of us, she will take care of Cage. Let's go inside, it's freezing."

Micheal began walking, only to turn around and see that I wasn't following. I didn't want to go inside the house. I wanted to lay down on the snow and do nothing. I wanted to watch the world go by without moving a muscle. I didn't want to be a part of this anymore. I didn't want to be a part of anything. "I want to stay here."

Micheal's face softened. "November-"

"Please."

"Fine." He sighed. "Can you do us a favour, though?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Can you clean up the blood in the backseat? We're going to need the car and I don't want to attract any attention if someone were to look in or something. It's best to just lay low for a while." Micheal said softly.

I glanced at the open backseat door. There was a bloody hand print on the window from Heath when he pushed it open. My stomach flipped. Everything was so red but I forced myself to nod. The cold helped calm me down anyways, and I would be no help inside either. It was better if I didn't bother anyone. "Of course."

"I'm going inside." Micheal said. "There are cleaning supplies in the kitchen, in a drawer underneath the sink. Get whatever you need, but don't use bleach. The smell sticks to the leather and it's the worst thing ever."

I pursed my lips and nodded as Micheal gave me a sad smile and disappeared inside the house. For the longest while, I didn't move. I stood there and practiced taking deep breaths. The panic inside had died down a little, but not completely smothered. A light clicked on in the upstairs window. Whoever this Delia woman was, I could only hope she was as good as Micheal's singing praises.

I went inside and found a bucket filled with dish soap, sponges (the yellow one reminded me of Spongebob), a pair of rubber gloves, and a whole bunch of cleaning bottles. Going back outside, I put the bucket down and stared at the bloody backseat.

I was totally going to clean, don't get me wrong...it was just that the key was still in the ignition.