Fix or Fire

**POV: Sloane**

Thick, dark blood hits the thin motel carpet. The crimson drops sink deep, spreading over the cheap, stained fibers like spilled wine. The stifling room smells of raw iron and cold sweat. My knuckles throb. The sharp pain shoots up my forearm from repeatedly punching the massive intruder. I subdued him twenty minutes ago, but my hand still aches under torn flesh. The handle of my