61. Felicity
FELICITY
“HERSH!”
The scream ripped out of me before I even realized I was making it.
We hit the ground hard.
Mud.
Rain.
Blood.
His body covered mine completely as bullets tore through the trees above us.
“Hersh—oh my God?—”
His arm locked around me tighter instantly.
“Stay down.”
But his voice?—
Something was wrong with his voice.
Rougher.
Tighter.
Pain.
Thunder cracked overhead as gunfire exploded again somewhere behind us.
Shadow Division returned fire hard enough to shake the woods.
But I couldn’t focus on any of it.
Only him.
Only the warm wetness suddenly soaking through my hands where I grabbed his side.
No.
No, no, no.
My breath started shaking violently.
“Hersh…”
He tried to push himself up.
Failed.
Fear slammed into me so hard I thought I might stop breathing.
“Medic!” Wolf roared somewhere nearby.
Another gunshot cracked through the trees.
Rook shouted orders.
Trigger cursed.
Everything around us became chaos?—
but all I could see was Hersh collapsing beside me in the mud.
“No.” I grabbed his face desperately. “No, no, no, don’t you do this. You stay with me.”
Rain poured down his face.
Blood mixed with water beneath him.
His jaw tightened hard enough I saw the muscle flex.
“It missed anything important.”
“You are such a liar.”
His mouth almost twitched.
Almost.
Then his eyes shut briefly.
Pure terror ripped through me.
“Hersh!”
His eyes opened instantly again at the sound of my voice.
Locked onto mine.
Focused.
Like hearing me mattered more than the bullet inside him.
“There you are,” he rasped quietly.
The emotion in those three words nearly shattered me.
My hands shook against his face.
“You cannot scare me like this.”
Another round cracked nearby.
Wolf dropped beside us first, rifle raised toward the ridge.
“Snipers are pulling back!”
Rook appeared seconds later through the rain like death itself.
Cold eyes.
Controlled fury.
“Shepherd’s retreating.”
“Hunt him,” Hersh growled instantly.
Blood stained his teeth when he spoke.
My stomach twisted violently.
“You are not dying while giving orders!” I snapped.
Both men looked at me.
I didn’t care.
I was past caring.
Past fear.
Past pretending this man didn’t own entire pieces of my heart already. He always has.
“You hear me?” I grabbed his vest harder. “You do not get to leave me.”
Something changed in his face then.
Not physically.
Deeper than that.
Like the words hit somewhere he’d buried years ago.
Rook glanced between us once.
Then quietly touched his comm.
“Medic team now.”
Wolf muttered under his breath, “About damn time.”
Hersh never looked away from me.
Rain ran down his face.
Across the scar near his jaw.
Into the dark intensity in his eyes that suddenly looked almost wrecked.
“You ran into gunfire for me,” he said roughly.
“Obviously.”
His brows pulled together slightly like that answer hurt him.
Or meant too much.
“You should’ve stayed inside.”
“And you should stop taking bullets.”
A rough sound, almost like a laugh, escaped him.
Small.
Broken.
Beautiful.
Then his hand lifted slowly?—
cupping my cheek with bloodstained fingers.
The touch destroyed me.
Completely.
His thumb brushed beneath my eye.
Only then did I realize I was crying.
“Don’t cry for me, sweetheart.”
Too late.
Way too late for that.
Because somewhere between the ranch…
the letters…
the lies…
and him throwing himself in front of a sniper bullet meant for me?—
I had fallen hopelessly in love with Hersh McDougal again.