Chapter 136 Harper
Harper
The tourniquet tightened, cutting off the worst of the bleeding. Gideon hissed, his teeth clenched, but his pulse felt steadier under my fingers. Relief surged through me, sharp and shaky, but there was no time to breathe it in.
I reached for the hemostatic powder, tearing the packet open with blood-slick hands. The smell of iron filled my nose as I poured it into the wound, the bleeding slowing almost instantly. My heart slammed harder, but steadiness settled into my fingers.
“You’re doing good,” I told him, keeping my voice calm even as gunfire thundered overhead. “Just hold on for me.”
He gave the smallest nod, his eyes glassy but focused on me, not the chaos around us.
Carter’s shadow loomed nearby, firing precise bursts down the hall, every movement lethal and sure. He didn’t look back, but I knew he was aware of every breath I took. That silent thread between us held me steady as much as my own two hands.
I wrapped the last bandage tight, securing it with a knot, then pressed my hand to Gideon’s shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere, understand?”
His lips twitched. “Bossy,” he rasped, but the faint edge of humor in his voice told me he was still with me.
I exhaled hard, pushing the fear down deep. My hands were shaking, my knees bruised from the concrete, but I’d done it. I’d kept him alive.
Another volley of bullets ripped through the air, sparking off the metal doorframe inches from Carter. He didn’t flinch, just shifted, covering us with the same ferocity he always carried into battle.
And me—covered in blood, heart pounding—I felt something new swell inside my chest.
I wasn’t just surviving Redwood.
I was defying them.