"I'm sorry, what?" I sputtered.

"If it's not clotting even with you all putting pressure on it, then it has to be sealed."

There was a beat of silence as I let that sink in. And then I steeled my spine and said, "Walk me through it."

With Brandon's voice in my ear, I grabbed a small knife, a lighter, and my bottle of whiskey and headed back to Vincent. He eyed me when I sat everything on the table. His face was pinched, that muscle in his jaw feathering at a rapid beat. I still had the phone tucked between my shoulder and my cheek, but I dropped it onto the coffee table next to me and hit speaker. Brandon's voice echoed through the silent room just a moment later.

"You got everything?"

"Yes."

Vincent met my gaze. He nodded, barely more than a dip of his chin, and I knew that he had already figured out what I was doing. Without a word, I passed him the whiskey. He lifted it to his lips, and I tried to ignore the trembling in his hands. He took a few long pulls before he handed it back to me. With a bracing breath, he removed the shirt.

Blood spilled as if it had never been covered. Both of us let out a barely audible curse as I splashed a little of the whiskey over his stomach. Vincent winced as I flicked the lighter and held the flame to the blade. Brandon's voice on the phone became a buzzing background noise. All I could focus on was the metal in my hand. Slowly, way too slowly, the knife began to change colors. When it was what I would assume the color of fresh magma would be, I raised my eyes to Vincent's again. Even with everything going on, he still let his ghost of a smile tug at his mouth.

"Do you trust me?" I asked, flicking the lighter off.

He nodded. "More than anyone."

"Hey!" two voices chorused from the phone.

Laughter bubbled in my throat, but I choked it down. Vincent had accomplished his goal – keeping me from freaking out. Fast as an adder, I pressed the blade into the hole in his abdomen. He hissed, the sound mixing with the sizzling coming from his skin. Forcing down the urge to vomit, I repeated the process a handful of times before the wound was sealed. It was over quicker than I had anticipated. The rancid smell of burnt flesh tickled my nose, and I nearly gagged again.

"Brandon, what now?" I called, heading into the kitchen again to grab paper towels. I doused them in warm water before heading back to Vincent. His skin had fully turned to that sickly pallor, but there was a warm smile on his face when his eyes settled on me. I sat back down on the coffee table, beginning the process of mopping up the blood.

"Just cover it with some bandages. I'll look at it when we get back. I might need to reopen it to stich it properly, but that should keep him from dying on us before we get there."

"I'm not going to die," Vincent grumbled, his head tilted back against the couch.

"You damn well might have," I told him, keeping my touch gentle as I got up as much of the blood as I could.

Brandon assured me that they'd all meet us here as soon as they could. In the meantime, I was to make sure Vincent didn't aggravate his wound. I clicked the 'end call' button and slid my phone to the other side of the table. As it sank in that the blood had finally, truly stopped flowing, the full force of what happened hit me. The adrenaline leeched from my veins, and it left a biting chill in its wake. My teeth started chattering, and I had to fight back a sob.

"Hey," Vincent murmured, a low groan slipping free as he reached for me.

"Don't move," I scolded, jolting forward to ease him back against the couch again. He snagged my waist, yanking me down beside him. His eyes were closed, and if it weren't for the sweat shining on his skin, he would be the picture of ease.

As if he could feel the worry radiating off me, he cracked one eye open. "I've survived worse," he said, somehow managing to curl me even further into him.

"Don't tell me that," I grumbled. Pitching the bloodied paper towel I was still holding onto the coffee table, I allowed my head to settle against his shoulder. My heart was still beating out an uneven stutter-step in my chest, but I could breathe easier. The scent of blood was strong in the air, but it was almost drowned out being this close to him. I could just make out the hint of sandalwood and spice from his cologne clinging to his skin, and my pulse began to calm.

For a while, we just let the silence stretch between us. I didn't even want to think about how close I had come to losing him tonight. The hardest pill I was trying to choke down, was that this would not be the last time. Situations like tonight came with the territory, and I was going to have to get used to it.

[A/N: If you would like, start the song now]

"Why were you alone tonight?" I finally managed to ask some time later, reaching between us to entwine my fingers with his.

His hand dwarfed mine, but there was more strength in his grip than I expected when he squeezed my hand. "I sent the others to deal with the shipment. This wasn't something that was high profile – or even something that I was worried about. I went in cocky and got bit in the ass for it."

"Do you know why they did it?"

"No," he said, his broad shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Could've been for a number of reasons. Could've been someone who wanted to make a mad grab for power. Could've been someone with a score to settle. Could've been a mixture of both and been someone that's still loyal to Graham."

"People are still loyal to him, even though he's dead?" The disbelief coloring my tone caused him to chuckle.

"That man ran the underground and the guns in this city for years. Some people will never let that go. There will always be people that want revenge. That would love to see me knocked down a peg or five." His eyes clouded, reminding me of the darkness that had encased him not so long ago, but that felt ages away.

A beat of silence passed. My teeth snagged my bottom lip. Like a magnet, Vincent's eyes tracked the movement.

"What're you thinking?"

"I don't want to be in the dark anymore," I murmured. I don't know which one of us was more shocked by my words. But now that they were out there, I was surprised that I had no desire to take them back. "If I'm in this with you, it's to the death. I refuse to lose someone else that I love."

Vincent jolted, his head whipping to me so fast that he winced. I just blinked at him.

His gaze turned hot, branding me with its intensity. And then what I had said hit me.

Oh, no. No. Shit.

"I mean –"

Something akin to a growl rumbled in his chest, making my toes curl. Faster than he should have been able to move, he had me straddling him and his hands were in my hair. The fierceness with which he kissed me seared me straight down to my bones, and I couldn't contain the moan that slipped into his mouth. I rocked myself against him, feeling the hard length of him press against me.

Vincent let out a hiss, and it was as if someone dumped ice down my spine.

Double shit.

"Where do you think you're going?" he bit out, catching my wrist as I went to scramble off his lap.

"We are absolutely not having sex and risking you tearing that open."

He huffed. A pout pulled at his full lips, and I was so tempted to smack him I had to curl and uncurl my fist a few times. Men.

At the glare I was sending him, he smoothed his features out. But there was an unmistakable light dancing in his eyes as he reclaimed my hand. His fingers twisted with mine, and he brought it up to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles.

"Did you mean it?"

I could barely think straight with the weight of his stare. Panic fluttered in my chest, trying to crawl up my throat. But there was no taking it back now anyway.

Any of it.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good." And despite the pain he was obviously still in, his face split into one of his rare, full-blown grins that I was starting to suspect he saved just for me. "Because I think I've loved you since the moment you nearly broke Brandon's nose."

"Liar," I teased, leaning forward to kiss him again. We were both mindful of his injury, so this kiss was softer. A promise instead of a claiming.

"To the death, huh?" he murmured, cradling my face in his hands.

I nodded, leaning into his touch. "However slow or swift it may come."

* * * * *

"Are you all fucking in there?"

"Go get your men," I grumbled, pulling one of the throw pillows over my head to drown out the incessant pounding on my front door.

"They're your men now too," Vincent said, grunting when I flicked his nose in response. "And I'm injured."

I muttered a few choice words under my breath but heaved myself into a sitting position all the same. Vincent and I had passed out together on the couch. Apparently, he was too worried about getting blood on my white sheets. Like I gave a shit.

"I'm coming!" I hollered.

"I didn't need to know that."

"Twenty-six, Lucas," I told him as I winged the door open, glaring at the three men crowding my doorway. "Twenty-six."

His hazel eyes were bright as he grinned at me. "Good to see you too, sugar."

"Get your asses in here," I said, rolling my eyes as I stepped aside. Lucas trooped into the living room, closely followed by Brandon and Arkin. The other boys gave me a nod of acknowledgement as they passed me. Once they were all in, I shut the door and made sure to reengage the security system. When I turned back to face everyone, I saw that Brandon had already gotten Vincent into a sitting position. Brandon was beginning to remove the bandages I had placed across the wound before we fell asleep, and I decided to leave them to it. I had seen enough of that gash to last a lifetime.

Arkin followed me into the kitchen. "How're you holding up?" he asked, his voice soft and measured.

"I'm doing better than I expected," I admitted, a small smile tilting my lips. "Thank you for thinking to check on me."

"Vincent has been through shit like this before," he said with a shrug. "But I was pretty sure you had never had to cauterize a wound. So, we were all worried about you too."

"Did you all get everything sorted out?" I deflected, not really wanting to relive the terror that had gripped me when I first found Vincent earlier in the night.

Arkin picked up on my train of thought quickly, and his baby blues tracked my movements before he nodded. "We were shorted. Not sure just yet if it was on accident or on purpose, but the rest of the shipment should reach the drop off within forty-eight hours."

"That's good."

"Are you okay, Jules? Really?"

I stopped what I was doing to meet his eyes. His gaze was steady, but his forehead was still puckered with worry. Sighing, I grabbed the coffee I had initially been reaching for and set about getting a pot made. I was sure we were all going to need it. The clock on the stove read that it was just after five in the morning.

"As long as what I did holds up, and Brandon gives him the green light, I'll be fine." I hit the start button on the coffee pot. "But until then, I feel a little sick."

"So, finding him lying in a pool of blood didn't –"

"Arkin," I chastised, flicking my gaze back to him. "I know what you all do. I'm fine. The only thing I was worried about tonight was losing him. If I could find the one responsible for this and repay that stab-wound in kind, I would." The strength in my voice startled me. Because I would. If I ever came across the man who had nearly taken Vincent from me, I knew I wouldn't hesitate to sink a knife into his gut as well. Or across his throat.

Who the hell was I turning into?

______________________________________

I hope you all are smiling as hard as I was when I wrote this. And side note: this was not how the confession was supposed to come out. But with how much these two have diviated from the initial plan, it seemed more fitting. As always, let me know your thoughts!

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Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

Erin