Chapter 2

I immediately freeze, turning back around to find him taking slow steps towards me. My eyes widen further and I open my mouth to protest but no words come out. I'm frozen in fear, rooted to the spot. His steps are slow, his face contorting in pain as he drags himself towards me. I take a step back and he narrows his eyes further, one perfect eyebrow raising at my action.

"Don't even think about running hermosa."

I suck in a deep breath, the grip on my keys tightening.

"I don't speak Spanish." I mutter dumbly, my thoughts buzzing inside my head. Why didn't I let Justin walk me straight home?

He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting in the dark night. His hand is still clutching onto his stomach and he stops approaching me once he's a few feet away.

"You don't speak Spanish yet you know I was speaking Spanish."

I drop my eyes to the floor, his burning gaze causing goosebumps to travel up my skin. The safety voice inside my head was screaming at me to run, my legs twitching to get away from the danger.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

Despite his injuries, his voice is strong, confident. He reeks of self-love and arrogance.

"Don't come any closer." I warn him, my voice trembling as I raise the key in my hand to show him I'm armed. He takes a look at the key wrapped tightly between my fingers before his eyes travel to meet mine. I start trembling, my hands shaking by my side. His lips begin to twitch before he lets out a low chuckle, wincing in pain as he does. I frown at him and take a step forward, showing him I'm not scared.

I really am scared, I'm terrified.

"You don't think I'll hurt you? Seriously, get away from me." I warn, firmer this time. He holds his free hand in the air, his features contorting in pain. I watch in awe as he lifts his shirt up, removing his hand that was clutching at his skin.

"You're going to stab me hermosa? Someone's already beaten you to it." He murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as he falls to the floor. That's when I notice the blood seeping it's way onto his shirt, staining deep inside the fabric. A small scream escapes from my mouth and I slap my hand over it.

"Oh my god, oh my god."

I can't just leave him here!

I pull my phone out of my pocket, dialling emergency services. Within seconds, a lady on the other line answers.

"Nine, nine, nine. What's your emergency?"

"A man has been stabbed. Outside my house. Address is forty nine Highcourt Road, I don't know what to do!" I panic, my eyes wide in fear.

"Is the attacker still there?"

"No." I reply, remembering how the car sped off quickly down the road. He was lying still on the floor, his eyes firmly shut.

"Is the victim still breathing?"

"I don't know!"

"You need to go check, what's your name?"

"My name is Ariana."

“Okay, Ariana. I need you to check for a pulse. Can you do that?" She asks me, her instructions firm and clear. I inhale a sharp intake of breath in, taking a few steps towards him.

"He's a stranger. I don't know who he is." I whimper, watching him lie completely still on the floor.

"Ariana, you can save his life. You need to check for a pulse and apply pressure to the wound. The ambulance service will be there in a few minutes. Stay calm."

I nod profusely even though I know she can't see me. My legs are trembling as I fall to his side, my fingers pressing against his throat. His skin is smooth, warm. I feel like he's about to jump up at me any second and grab me before laughing that it was all a joke.

"He has a pulse," I say into the phone, putting it down onto the ground before pressing the speaker button. The advisors voice fills the silence around me.

"Find the source of the bleeding and apply pressure."

I look around desperately for anything to use and scramble for his jacket that's lying a few feet away from him. My hand flimsily tug his shirt up to expose his bare stomach and I suck in another deep breath, feeling like I'm committing a sexual assault. The stab wound underneath his chest is staring back at me, blood seeping out of it. I quickly turn his jacket inside out and use the soft material on the inside to press against his body. The bleeding is everywhere, all over his golden skin, staining it.

"Now what do I do?" I yell into my phone, searching up and down the road for some help.

"Try to wake him up, keep him talking. He needs to stay conscious, paramedics will be arriving shortly. You're doing great Ariana."

I look at his face, his eyebrows creased together in pain. He isn't moving, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. I reach towards his face, leaning down so that my ear is next to his mouth. His scent immediately ravels around me and I swoon slightly, my mind turning blank for a few seconds. I continue to apply pressure on his stab wound with one hand and I touch his cheek with my other, trying to wake him up.

"Sir?" I ask desperately, the warmth of his cheek running through my trembling hands. He doesn't respond.

"Mr Spanish Guy?" I try again, lightly slapping his cheek.

"Mr really hot Spanish Guy?"

I'm getting desperate, scared that he's going to die right now, in front of me. He groans loudly and I jump backwards, my eyes widening in panic. His eyes flicker open briefly, swirls of chocolate staring back at me.

"You're not too bad yourself hermosa." He smirks, his eyes rolling around his head as he drifts in and out of consciousness. My mouth flies open in shock but I continue to apply pressure, the blood destroying everything around us.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" He mutters, his words barely audible. I shake my head, determination settling inside me.

"No, you're not." I say firmly, the faint sound of sirens in the distance. I look up at the sky, tears of frustration running down my cheeks.

My hands are covered in blood. My arms are covered in blood. My clothes are soaked in blood.

I can still taste the blood in the air minutes later when the ambulance arrive, rushing both of us into the back of the van and slamming the doors. We zoom through the streets, sirens blaring loudly as they fight to save his life.