“Oh fuck, it’s his knee—” “Langers, can you get up?” Someone’s hand is on my hip. He wants me to roll over onto my back. But I’m frozen, letting the pulsing pain in my knee paralyze me. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I cry with a voice not my own. “I’m so sorry,” comes Morrow’s voice. “I thought you had it. I’m sorry. It was a bad pass—” “The asshole took you out at the fucking knees,” Sully growls.
