No More Bleeding For You
Language: en
At three in the morning, I was dead to the world when Gavin suddenly ripped the covers off me and dragged me out of bed. His words tumbled out in a frantic rush—he said I was O-negative, that Brooke was hemorrhaging, and the hospital's blood bank was completely tapped out. I winced, rubbing my eyes, and told him I was severely anemic. My body couldn't handle a blood donation. He didn't listen. He just started shoving my arms into my winter coat, rushing me toward the door, insisting they only needed a pint and that Brooke was fading fast. Sitting in the passenger seat of his SUV, the…