Eden’s POV
I hurry and get dressed, running from the store to see Mason laid out on the concrete next to the car we drove out here. Falling to his side, I can’t find the worst wound on his body, finding countless cuts and bloody splotches seeping through his clothes.
“Ma—Mason,” I pant, my eyes blurred with frantic, scared tears. “Can you hear me? Can you move?”
He only growls, holding his hip where blood covers his palm. I peel his fingers back, seeing a deep stab wound that gushes crimson. His hand snaps back over the mark, fighting a scream in agony as he does so.
“I saw the whole thing!” a random pedestrian shouts, speaking quickly into her cell phone. “I called the police! They’re sending an ambulance.”
Mason bats my hand away as I try to help apply pressure to his hip. He speaks
