"Claire… what are you doing?"
Claire blinked, her hands shaking slightly but she tightened her grip.
Lucas was still on the ground, propped up on one arm, blood seeping through his shirt. His face was pale, but his sharp, questioning eyes never left hers.
She didn't answer. She didn't fucking know. Her mind was completely blank. The voice in her head, the gun in her hand, the blood on his clothes, the distant sound of footsteps and sirens closing in—it was too much.
Then out of nowhere, Elena stepped in.
"Lucas," she called, moving fast. She crouched next to him, looking him over. "You're hit."
"Yeah, I noticed." His voice was dry, but his eyes stayed on Claire for a second longer before he let Elena help him up.
Claire stepped back, lowering the gun. Her hands were still shaking.
Elena wrapped an arm around Lucas's waist and guided him towards the car, and Claire joined in helping.
