Chapter 41
CHAPTER 41
CREED
I pull Gabriella from Mackenzie’s grasp, and Mackenzie just smiles. “Go with Hela, okay? She’ll keep you safe,” I tell my little girl. She nods, and Hela comes forward, leading her away by the hand.
“Hold on, baby,” I say. “Hold on!” There is so much blood, and she’s fading in and out of consciousness, her breathing ragged. “You don’t get to leave me! Hold on!”
“We need an ambulance. Call 9-1-1, damn it!” Heath shouts somewhere behind me.
“Already on their way, Boss,” someone responds. “Two minutes out.”
She closes her eyes and whispers, "Keep her safe."
“Oh, fuck no,” I shout, picking her up and cradling her against me, pressing my hand hard against the wound. The sound of sirens wails in the distance, but all I can focus on is Mackenzie. Her blood, her weakening grip on reality.
With every ragged breath she takes, every drop of blood soaking through my shirt. I keep telling her to hold on, like my words can somehow force her back to me, like they can reverse the damage, stop the inevitable. But I don’t know if they can.
The sound of the sirens is deafening, a reminder of how close we are and how far away we are at the same time. Every second feels like a lifetime. My mind is a mess of fragmented thoughts, spinning in circles, unable to find a way out. I should be focusing, should be doing something, anything, to stop this—stop her from dying in my arms. But the truth is, I’m powerless.
I should have done more. I should have seen it coming, protected her better.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I think of the kind of life Gabriella will have now, having watched her adoptive father and biological mother get shot. Looking over at where Gabriella stands with Hela and Flynn, I feel her panic, and it’s like a weight pressing against my ribs.
The sound of screeching tires on pavement cuts through the air, but it's muffled by the pounding of my heart.
As the paramedics rush out of the ambulance, I can barely keep my grip on Mackenzie. My hands are slick with blood, but I can't let go. I can’t let her go.
“Careful with her,” I snarl, as one of the paramedics reaches for her. My voice is low, a growl that shakes with a mixture of anger and fear. “You touch her wrong, and I swear to God—”
The man freezes, eyes wide, and for a second, I think he might back off. But he nods quickly, his professionalism cutting through the tension. “We’ll take care of her, sir,” he says, but I don’t believe him. Not really. No one can care for her the way I can.
I watch every movement they make, every step they take, my eyes scanning their hands as they lift Mackenzie onto the stretcher. They’re moving too fast, too rough, and every second of it feels like an assault. She’s mine to protect. Mine to keep safe.
I can’t let her slip through my fingers. Not like this.
“Watch the wound,” I bark at one of them, leaning forward as they try to shift her into the vehicle. I see it then—the damage, the blood soaked into her clothes, pooling beneath her body. I want to rip the sheet from her, to press my hands to the gaping hole in her side, to stop the bleeding and hold her together—but I know I can’t. Not here, not now.
“Get your hands off her chest,” I snap at another paramedic, his palm hovering too close to her ribs. “She's fragile. She's losing blood.”
The tension between us is palpable. Every move they make, every second they take feels like a threat. The paramedic doesn’t argue. He just adjusts his grip, as I demand, and they finally begin to roll the stretcher toward the ambulance.
“Mackenzie,” I whisper, crouching beside her. My fingers thread through her bloodstained hair, brushing it from her face as if that simple touch will keep her tethered to me. “Don’t you dare leave me, baby. Stay with me.”
I look back at her friends. “Go,” Jenson says. “We’ve got Gabriella, and we’re right behind you.”
I nod. Mackenzie trusts them so I have no choice but to do the same. I climb into the ambulance with her and the doors slam shut.
My mind races as we’re rushed through the chaos of the emergency room. It’s all a blur—doctors, nurses, frantic orders—but it’s nothing compared to the turmoil inside me. The thoughts I can’t silence, the questions I can’t answer. Will she survive this? Will I have to live the rest of my life without her?
I’ve faced betrayal, prison, hell on earth, but this? This feels like the end of everything.
“Please, baby,” I whisper, the desperation creeping into my voice as I press my lips to her forehead, my tears mixing with the blood on her skin. “Stay with me.”
But even as I beg, deep down, a part of me wonders if it’s too late.
* * *
Gabriella rushes into my arms in the waiting room.
Her arms wrap around me like a vice, and for a moment, I hold her tightly, as if by sheer force, I can protect her from whatever might happen next. The terror in her eyes mirrors my own—uncertain, desperate, and too raw to hide. Her question is simple, but it feels like a weight I’m not sure I can bear.
“Is she going to be okay, my—Mackenzie?” Gabriella asks, her voice small but tremulous, looking up at her adoptive mother Mia, her eyes searching for something to hold on to.
Mia’s smile is gentle, but I can see the tension in her shoulders. She’s trying, I know, but even she doesn’t have the answers.
“The doctors are taking care of her,” I say.
I want to say something more, to give her the comfort she’s begging for, but the truth is, I don’t know. I don't know if Mackenzie is going to make it. I don’t know if she’ll wake up, or if that would even be a gift, considering the mess of blood and pain she’s left behind.
Gabriella pulls away slightly, her small face searching mine now, her lips trembling as she repeats the question in her head. “But is she going to be okay?” she asks again, the words cutting through me like glass.
I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure, trying to be strong for her, for all of us. But the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a hollow promise, one I don’t even believe in myself. “She’s a fighter, Gabriella. She’s strong.”
Mia’s hand rests on my shoulder, a quiet, unspoken support, but it feels fragile, too. Like we’re all teetering on the edge of something, and I’m holding Gabriella up, even though I’m sinking just as fast.
“We have to wait, honey.” She tells Gabriella. We can’t do anything but trust the doctors now."
But as I look at Gabriella, her wide, innocent eyes searching for the hope I don’t know how to give, I realize that no matter what happens, we’re all waiting. Waiting for a miracle. Waiting for someone to tell us it’ll all be okay.
But what if it isn’t? What if this time I lose her?
I clear my throat. “How’s Michael?”
Mia smiles. “He’s recovering. The surgery went well, and the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, so he’ll be out in a week or so.”
I nod. Some light in all this darkness.
The door to the waiting room opens, and the doctor steps in, his face is calm, a contrast to how I feel. I freeze for a moment as he walks toward us, the air thick, like I can't quite catch my breath. My mind is spinning, my pulse pounding in my ears, and the words feel like they’re on the tip of my tongue, just out of reach.
“Mr. Torres,” the doctor begins, glancing at me with a neutral expression. “Ms. Yates’s surgery went well. There were some complications, but we were able to repair her lung and aorta. She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stabilize her. She’s currently sedated and resting, but we expect a full recovery.”
I exhale in a rush, relief flooding my body like a wave crashing over me. Despite complications she will recover. I close my eyes for a second, blocking out the images of her bloodied, weak body in my arms.
“Thank you,” I murmur, though the words feel like they don’t carry enough weight for what I’m feeling. It’s not enough just to hear she’s stable. Not yet. I need more than that. I need to see her, hold her, make sure she’s really here. But I can’t rush this. I can’t force it. I have to trust the doctors now, even if part of me feels like the trust is slipping through my fingers.
The doctor’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “You’ll be able to see her soon. She’s still under sedation, but she’s strong. She’ll pull through.”
As he turns to leave, I look over at Gabriella and she comes over to me. “We’ll get to see her soon.”
I am so glad to have Gabriella with me. Safe. None of this will truly feel right until Mackenzie opens her eyes, until I can feel her hand in mine again. Until I know she’s going to be okay.