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Summary
Sonny rolled onto his side, coughing, dry heaving, sucking in as much oxygen as he possibly could, and saw what he'd been seeing in his nightmares ever since Clay had been taken; Clay, thrashing around in a pool of his own blood like a wounded, rabid animal. Dying.
The bullet pierced Clay through the shoulder. Sonny crawled to his side, vision still dark around the edges, and tried to staunch the heavy bleeding.