Emmaline hit the floor of the boat with an 'oof', the wind knocked out of her and her mind struggling to catch up.
One moment, Donovan had been pointing a gun at them, and the next?
She was down, the deck of the boat hard and cold under her.
She searched for pain beyond what she already had.
Had she been shot?
The weight on top of her shifted.
Ashton propped himself up on his forearms to look at her from where he had tackled her to the ground.
"Are you hurt?" He asked urgently, "Em? Did you get hurt?"
She blinked at him, "I'm fine, what about you?"
But even as she asked, her hands were up and patting his arms, his shoulders, his back.
When she felt something warm and wet, she froze.
Pushing herself up, she looked at her hands.
Dark as it was, she could see the blackish liquid on her hands.
Rubbing her fingers together, the slippery liquid could only be one thing.
Blood.
