50. Ellie #2
A broken sob tears from my throat, the very first tears I've let fall since we left in the ambulance. Martinez holds up a hand before the relief can settle.
"It was a mess in there. The bullet fragmented against a rib and nicked the pulmonary vessels. We were able to remove the pieces, repair the arterial damage, and re-inflate the lung. The bleeding is controlled."
"Complications?" Kai asks, stepping forward.
"The usual post-operative risks. Infection, pneumonia, blood clots. The next forty-eight hours will be a massive fight," Dr. Martinez says, looking at me. "He's extremely lucky you were there. Your dressing and interventions kept him from drowning in his own blood."
I didn't hear a word after stabilized. All I care about is the fact that his heart is still beating.
"Can I see him?"
"ICU, room 314. He's still intubated and sedated," she states. "Give the staff twenty minutes or so to settle him in and organize his monitors. I'll get a nurse to come and get you when they are ready."
The elevator ride up to the intensive care unit feels suffocating, every floor ticking past is a stark reminder that I haven't seen him in over four hours.
When the steel doors finally scrape open, the ICU smells of cold bleach.
It's too bright, too sterile, and consumed by the rhythmic, artificial beeping of life support.
Room 314 is isolated at the end of the hall.
I push through the heavy door, and the breath is completely knocked out of me.
It isn't just seeing him lying there, it's the sound.
The harsh, mechanical whoosh-thump of a machine forcing air into his lungs, a sound so artificial it makes my skin crawl.
Killian looks wrong. The man who radiates violence, untouchable power, is swallowed by a tangle of plastic and wires.
Seeing the thick, ribbed tube taped to his mouth, forcing his jaw open while a machine breathes for him, makes my stomach turn.
He isn't sleeping, he's being kept alive by a cocktail of drugs being pumped into him and the hiss of compressed air.
He looks pale, completely dwarfed by the technology tracking his vitals. The heart monitor shows a steady rhythm, but there is no color in his face, only the drained, waxen look of someone emptied of his own life.
I sink into the chair beside his bed, reaching carefully through the tangle of medical equipment to find his hand.
My fingers brush his, and I instantly jerk back, my heart hammering against my ribs.
He’s cold. So goddamn cold. It feels like touching a marble statue, not the man whose touch used to set me on fire.
I have to force myself to reach out again, to wrap my trembling palms around his fingers and try to will the warmth back into him.
Water droplets splash onto the bed, and I realize tears are running down my cheeks.
"I love you," I whisper, knowing he can't hear me but needing to say it anyway. "Over everything else, I will always choose you."
The door clicks open. Jackson, Kai, and Gabriel file in.
They look out of place in the sterile room, still covered in the grit and blood from the safe house.
Gabriel stops two steps in, his gaze dropping to his boots, unable to look at the machine forcing air into Killian's lungs. Kai’s hand is steady as he checks the monitors, but the screen of his tablet reflects the unnatural white of his knuckles.
"We're locking this floor down," Jackson says, his voice raspy with exhaustion. "Two of us in the room. Two on the door. No one gets near him unless I’ve personally checked their badge. He’s not being left alone for a second."
"The Order?" I ask, not taking my eyes off Killian.
"They've vanished," Gabriel says, his voice flat.
"Jackson's been monitoring their encrypted channels since the safe house. Zero chatter. They’ve gone dark, which is worse than being hunted.
Julian being dead buys us a little time to breathe, but we just moved to the top of a very long, very dark list. They're still out there. "
I look at them, still covered in the dirt from the bunker, and a cold knot pulls tight in my stomach. Julian Ross is dead, but it changes nothing. They aren't going to stop. We’re in a war with an organization that will execute its own people to keep a secret.
"We'll move him to a new spot once he's stable," Kai says, his voice low and steady. "Harder to find, harder to hit. They might have more resources, but they don't have the training we do. We're ready for them, Ellie."
I nod, but everything outside this room is irrelevant. Whatever is coming for us next, whatever debts we’ve just incurred, I’ll face them. But not now.
Time loses its shape, and I stop looking at the clock. The room is cold, smelling of iodine and the stale sweat from the guys sleeping in the cheap plastic chairs behind me. The only thing I focus on is the slow hiss of the ventilator. I don't leave Killian's bedside.
The hallway outside starts to wake up. Voices drift under the door, footsteps speed up. It's the morning shift change.
Dr. Martinez walks in a few minutes later, looking just as exhausted as she did last night.
She gives me a quiet nod of greeting before moving straight to the monitors, checking his vitals, and peeling back the edges of his chest dressing.
She stares at the wound for a long moment before offering a short, sharp nod of her own.
"Good progress," she says, her voice raspy. "If he stays stable, we can try waking him this afternoon."
The thought of seeing his eyes focus on mine again makes my chest tighten. I don't care about the stats or the stability anymore. I just want him back.
"Thank you," I tell her. "For everything."
She glances at the three men taking up space in the corners, scanning their exhausted, hard faces before looking back at me. "He's got a reason to wake up," she says quietly. "Usually, that’s better than any medicine I can give."
She gives me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she leaves, and the room goes quiet again. Julian is dead, but it doesn't feel like a victory. It just feels like we've traded one life for a hundred more.
I wrap my fingers tighter around Killian's cold hand. My father’s secrets, the Order, the war. None of it matters right now. Whatever they send next, I’ll be here when they arrive.
I just need him to live.