Chapter 19
Alex
I never made it to Liv’s. Hell, I didn’t even make it out the damn door. The call came in before I reached the elevator. Not through dispatch, but through one of ours.
Mason yelled me back to the desk, phone in hand.
“Possible escapee,” the officer says over the phone, voice tight with the kind of urgency that doesn’t need to be explained. “Female. Mid-twenties. Found barefoot, half-dressed, and disoriented. Severe injuries. Patrol’s on scene. EMS en route.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “Location?”
He gives it. I already know the area, same neighborhood and same rot.
“We’re on our way.”
I don’t wait for anything else.
The air outside is cold enough to bite, sharp against my lungs as we move to the car.
The city feels different now, just minutes since the press conference wrapped, but now the world truly knows that something terrible is happening within these city limits.
The evening is just beginning; the sun is already falling behind the tallest buildings and casting shadows throughout the city like a nighttime is already here.
It’s quiet on the surface, but not in a way that means safe.
It’s the kind of quiet that hides things.
The kind that lets them happen.
By the time we pull up, the scene is already lit with flashing red and blue.
Patrol cars line the street, their lights cutting through the dimness, painting everything in harsh, shifting colors.
A small crowd has gathered at a distance, full of neighbors, bystanders, and people drawn to the chaos like it’s something to witness instead of avoid.
Uniforms are pushing them back, fighting for containment.
I step under the tape without waiting to be stopped. The smell hits me first: dirt, cold pavement, and… blood.
“She came out of the alleyway,” one of the officers says as we approach, gesturing toward a narrow gap between two crumbling buildings. “Barefoot. Didn’t know where she was. Kept saying she had to get away.”
My gaze follows his hand. The alleyway is dark and shadowed, the kind of place you don’t walk into unless you have a reason to.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Over there.”
And that’s when I see her. Liv. She’s kneeling on the pavement, already working, focused, and locked in.
For a second, everything else fades away. Because this is where she belongs. Not in a ballroom, not under soft lights and polished floors. Here, in the middle of chaos. Holding it together.
The patient is sprawled half on the gurney, half off, like she didn’t have the strength to climb onto it herself. Her skin is pale beneath grime and streaked with dirt. Cuts line her arms, some shallow and others deep of varying ages and amounts of healing. Her feet-
Jesus.
Bare, torn up, and bloody.
“She’s in shock,” Liv says, her voice calm but firm as she works. “We need to stabilize and move.”
Scott is beside her, moving in sync without needing direction.
I take a step closer and the girl sees me.
Her entire body reacts instantly. She recoils, a sharp, panicked sound tearing from her throat as she scrambles back, nearly falling off the opposite side of the gurney.
Liv steadies her just in time, but her hands still shake, and eyes are still wide with something that goes beyond fear and straight into terror.
“No- no, no-” she gasps, shaking her head violently. “Don’t- please-”
I freeze.
“Hey,” Liv says immediately, shifting closer to the girl’s front side again, her voice softening and grounding. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. you’re safe.”
But the girl doesn’t take her eyes off me.
“She needs space. She doesn’t like suits,” Scott mutters under his breath as he steps slightly in front of me.
He continues, keeping his voice low enough to convey information to me without letting the girl overhear it.
“She freaked out about the last suit near her, the civilian that found her. Until we get her stable, you gotta-”
Liv glances up at me, and there’s no hesitation in her voice when she says, “Alex, step back.”
It’s far from a suggestion, it’s a directive that I do, immediately. Because this isn’t my scene. Not right now.
I move back a few steps, putting distance between myself and the girl, and slowly she eases back onto the gurney. Not calm, not even close, but less like she’s about to bolt.
Liv’s attention snaps fully back to her. “You’re okay,” she murmurs, her hands steady as she works. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”
The girl’s eyes flicker, unfocused, trying to latch onto something real.
I watch as Scott moves beside Liv, letting her take the lead as she seems to have the most of the girl’s attention, while getting her what she needs without her needing to say anything.
The girl doesn’t act differently about Scott’s presence the way she did with me.
As Mason steps over to me, her eyes flash to him as well.
I put out an arm, and we both take a step back.
What Scott had said, “she doesn’t like suits,” picks my interest again.
He’s right, she only reacts to the suits.
Was whoever who hurt her wearing a suit?
“They said,” she chokes, her voice breaking. “They said I wouldn’t get hurt if I just did what I was told.”
The words hit like a gut punch. My jaw locks. The previous possible escapee, the unidentified one that Liv and I worked on together the first time. She’d said something similar, almost identical.
Compliance didn’t protect either of them. It just delayed the damage.
Liv doesn’t react outwardly, not the way I do, and I’m sure it’s entirely from sheer willpower. Her hands don’t falter as she checks vitals, as she adjusts the blanket around the girl’s shoulders, as she keeps her voice steady and low.
“I know,” she says gently. “I know. But you’re out now. You did the right thing.”
The girl shakes her head weakly, tears mixing with the dirt on her face.
“I wasn’t supposed to run,” she whispers. “They said-” Her voice fractures.
Liv leans in slightly, not crowding her, just enough to keep her anchored. “You got away,” she reminds her. “That’s what matters.”
Scott glances over his shoulder at me, something tight in his expression. He’s seen enough of these to know what this means. So have I, but this one feels different. Because as the girl shifts, as the light catches her face just right, the resemblance is there again.
She looks so much like Liv.
“Vitals are unstable,” Scott says quietly. “We need to move.”
Liv nods. “Okay. Easy. We’re going to get you fully onto the gurney, alright?” she tells the girl.
But she hesitates. Her eyes flick from the gurney, past Liv, toward me. And panic spikes again.
“No- No, he can’t- he can’t-”
“I’m not coming closer,” I say immediately, keeping my voice low and controlled. “I’m staying right here.”
She stares at me like she’s trying to decide if that’s true.
Liv doesn’t look back at me this time. “Just focus on me,” she tells her gently. “Okay? Just me.”
The girl nods, barely.
Between Liv and Scott, they guide her fully onto the gurney, securing her carefully, every movement deliberate, professional, and efficient.
I watch Liv work, really watch her. The way her hands move without hesitation.
The way her voice never wavers, even when the girl starts shaking again, and even when her breathing turns uneven and sharp.
The way she absorbs the fear directed at her without letting it stick.
She’s not treating injuries; she’s holding the line between panic and survival.
And she makes it look effortless. It’s not, I know it’s not.
“Let’s go,” Scott says once they’re set.
They start moving toward the rig. Liv glances up then, and our eyes meet. For a second, everything else drops away. There’s something there. She sees it, and I see it in her too.
The time for keeping us apart, for trying to pretend like I don’t need to be directly in her vicinity is over. It’s time to stop pretending I can stay away. I need to be there, not just to monitor the woman, but to be near Liv. Fuck what Captain Grant said, I won’t stay away from her.
Right now, there needs to be someone else besides medical with this woman for transport. Someone who can see things EMS won’t, and vice versa.
A quick glance to my side, at Mason, tells me we’re thinking the same thing. Time to split up.
He heads over to the uniforms to process the scene while I make my way to the rig, making sure to stay out of the girl’s view.
As Liv and Scott get the gurney loaded headfirst into the ambulance, I slip in quietly through the side door.
Liv’s eyes meet mine again as she climbs in through the back, not leaving them as she takes a seat beside the head of the gurney. The doors slam shut before Scott makes his way to the driver’s seat and climbs in.
And we’re off, heading for the hospital while I get as much information from the patient, through Liv’s interactions, as I can while staying as quiet as a church mouse.