CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jacob
Before we reach the front doors we hear screaming and I act on instinct, Fuck being quiet! We scan the first floor and just as I am about to head upstairs, I hear a sound all too familiar, a gunshot. The sound came from down in the basement. The sound of the splintering door barely registers as I kicked it open. My gun was drawn, my body running on pure adrenaline. Morrison and Connor coming in from behind me. My heart pounded as I scanned the room.
And then I saw her.
Anya was crumpled against the wall, her body limp, covered in blood. For a second, everything froze. The world just stopped. All I could focus on was her—her pale skin, her bruised face, the way her body slumped like she had nothing left to give.
I was at her side in a heartbeat, but the moment I knelt down, I saw something else. Lana. She was right next to her, her hands shaking, pressed against Anya’s side. There was blood—so much blood—and Lana’s eyes were wide with panic, tears streaming down her face.
“Jacob...” she sobbed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I—oh my God—I didn’t mean to... I shot her. I was aiming for Adam, but—" Her voice broke, her words crumbling into sobs.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
“Anya,” I gasped, my hands shaking as I touched her face. Her skin was cold, too cold. “Anya, wake up. Please... please, wake up.”
No response.
Her chest was rising, barely, but her breathing was shallow. The blood pooling beneath her was more than I could handle.
“Lana, what did you—" I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t bring myself to ask. All I saw was Anya slipping away, and my mind refused to register anything else.
“I tried to stop him,” Lana cried, her voice breaking. “Adam… he’s dead. But when I shot him, I—I hit her too. Oh God, I didn’t mean to—"
Dead? Adam was dead? A part of me wishes it was me who killed the fucker but I couldn’t focus on that. All I cared about was the fact that Anya was fading right in front of me.
“Anya, stay with me.” My voice cracked, pleading, as I pressed my hands over hers, trying to stop the bleeding. “Don’t leave me, baby. Don’t you dare leave me.”
Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, just a flicker, and for the briefest second, I thought she was coming back to me. I thought she was going to fight her way through.
But then she went still.
“Anya!” I shouted, shaking her gently. “No, no, no. Don’t you do this! Don’t you dare leave me!”
Her head lolled to the side, and everything in me shattered.
The sound of Connor and Morrison bursting into the cabin barely registered. All I could hear was the pounding of my own heartbeat, the deafening silence where her voice should’ve been.
This couldn’t be happening.
I cradled her in my arms, my breath shallow, panic clawing at my chest.
She was slipping away.
And I was powerless to stop it.
Anya’s limp body in my arms felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Her blood stained my hands, her skin cold to the touch, and the room spun around me. Morrison rushed in, his voice muffled in the background, shouting something I couldn’t focus on. I could only see her.
Connor knelt beside me, but I barely registered his presence. “Jacob,” he said, trying to snap me back to reality. “We need to stop the bleeding. Now!”
He ripped a piece of his shirt and pressed it against the wound in Anya’s side. The gaping hole where Lana’s bullet had ripped through her made me sick. Lana’s sobbing grew louder, but I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t deal with the fact that Anya was bleeding out in front me.
“She’s breathing, but barely,” Connor said, pulling me back to the moment. “We need to move fast if we want to save her.”
I nodded, swallowing the panic clawing at my throat. “We need an ambulance!” I shouted over my shoulder to Morrison.
Morrison was already on his radio, calling for backup and medical support, but I knew time wasn’t on our side. Every second that ticked by felt like it was stealing her away from me.
“Jacob, we’ve gotta move,” Connor urged, shaking my shoulder. “She won’t make it if we just sit here. We need to get her to the car.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t make myself let go of her. What if this was the last time I’d ever hold her? What if—
“Jacob!” Connor snapped, his voice sharper. “Now!”
I nodded, forcing myself into action. We lifted Anya gently, her head resting against my shoulder as we moved her out of the cabin. Her breathing was weak, each rise and fall of her chest too shallow, too slow. I was losing her, and it felt like a knife twisting in my gut.
“Stay with me, Anya. Please, baby, stay with me,” I whispered into her ear, my voice breaking. I couldn’t bear the thought of her slipping away. Not after everything we’d been through. Not after everything I’d fought for.
As we lifted Anya, I heard a soft thud behind me. I turned just in time to see Lana collapse, her legs giving out from under her. Her sobbing had stopped, and now she just stared at the floor, her face pale, lips trembling. The weight of everything — the shooting, Adam’s death, Anya lying unconscious — had finally caught up to her.
“Lana!” I shouted, but she didn’t respond. She looked like she was in shock, her entire body frozen.
Connor was quicker than I was. He moved swiftly, crouching beside her, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Lana, come on. We need to move.”
Her eyes flickered to him, but she didn’t say anything. She just stared blankly ahead, completely lost in her guilt and fear.
Without another word, Connor slipped his arms under her, lifting her like she weighed nothing. “I’ve got her, Jacob,” he said, glancing at me with a mix of urgency and sympathy. “You focus on Anya.”
As he carried Lana out, her head lolled against his chest, her body limp. I could hear her mumbling something, but her words were too soft, too broken to understand. Guilt was eating her alive, and I knew it.
But right now, Anya needed me. And I couldn’t fail her. Not now.
We rushed out of the cabin and into the freezing night. Connor moved ahead of us, carrying Lana as if she were a feather, while Morrison and I struggled to keep Anya as stable as we could. The sirens were getting closer, but so was the fear that we might not make it in time.
Connor laid Lana in the passenger seat of the car, buckling her in even though she was barely conscious. “She’s out of it,” he muttered, glancing over at me. “But she’ll be okay. Right now, we need to get them both to that hospital.”
Morrison hit the gas, and we sped away from the nightmare that was Adam’s cabin. I kept my eyes locked on Anya, her fragile body slumped in the backseat, blood seeping through Connor’s makeshift bandage. Every second felt like a countdown to losing her.
I held her hand, squeezing it tight. “Anya, please… hang on. I’m right here.”
But her breathing was barely there now, each breath so shallow it was almost impossible to tell if she was still with me.