On top of that several blistering splinters from the table were digging into his skin. Over and over Jordan asked Bollier to take him to a hospital. Jaw set tight, eyes firmly focused on the road, she shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr. Ross.” “Why… why not?” It pained Bollier to hear him in that much distress but she had lost too much already letting her compassion take over the analytical part of her mind. Bollier tore her own wool jacket off and gave it to Jordan to wrap around his leg as a tourniquet. “Listen. I know that you’re hurting right now, but you need to listen to me like you have never listened to anyone before in your life. Is that perfectly clear?” Jordan whimpered, tying the jacket around the wound to stop the bleeding. Through the blinding pain he grimaced and tried to appeal to Bollier’s sense of reason. “They’re not going to send gunmen to a hospital for Christ’s sake detective.
