13. Hannah
Hannah
“Take him.”
Clay stares at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.
Which—
Fair.
Gunfire erupts outside again, bullets tearing through metal somewhere near the loading entrance while civilians scream deeper inside the warehouse.
The little boy clings tightly to my side, shaking so hard I can feel it through my arm.
“Hannah—”
“There are still people inside.”
Another explosion rattles the building hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling beams.
Clay looks toward the warehouse entrance where smoke pours through the broken loading doors.
Then back at me.
His jaw tightens.
“You almost got shot.”
“And you ran into a war zone after me,” I fire back instantly.
That actually shuts him up for half a second.
Small victory.
The child suddenly cries harder against my side as another burst of automatic gunfire echoes outside.
Clay’s expression changes immediately.
Softer.
Calmer.
He crouches down in front of the boy despite bullets literally flying over our heads.
“Hey.” His voice drops low and steady. “Look at me.”
The little boy sniffles hard but slowly lifts his eyes.
“You stay behind cover, okay? We’re getting everybody out.”
We.
The word hits me harder than it should.
Clay gently guides the boy toward the concrete barrier before standing again.
And—
Up close like this, I can finally really see him.
The exhaustion in his face.
The tension carved into his shoulders.
The healing injury he’s clearly pretending doesn’t exist.
His vest hangs slightly wrong near his ribs.
Compensating.
Idiot.
Relief crashes into me again so hard it almost hurts.
Because for the past week I’ve kept telling myself not to count on him coming.
And he came anyway.
Of course he did.
Another explosion erupts somewhere outside near the river.
The warehouse lights flicker violently overhead.
“We don’t have much time,” I say quickly. “There are injured civilians in the east corner and at least three armed men still inside.”
Clay’s eyes narrow immediately.
“You treated them?”
“I’m a doctor.”
“Hannah.”
“What was I supposed to do? Let them die? I would have been shot if I hadn’t treated them.”
He exhales sharply like he wants to argue and knows he’s going to lose.
Then suddenly his hand closes around my wrist.
Firm.
Warm.
My pulse stumbles instantly.
“You’re bleeding.”
I blink down at myself.
“Oh.” I glance at the blood covering my sleeve. “Most of it isn’t mine.”
Most.
His stare snaps back to mine so fast it almost makes me regret saying it.
“Most?”
“It’s a graze,” I say quickly. “I’m fine.”
The look he gives me says he absolutely hates hearing those words from me now.
Good.
Maybe he finally understands how frustrating he is.
Before either of us can say another word, Russ appears through the smoke near the entrance.
“We’ve got incoming militia moving from the south side!” he shouts. “We need to move now!”
“Still civilians inside,” I yell back immediately.
Russ’s gaze shifts toward me briefly.
Then the warehouse.
Then back again.
“Of course there are,” he mutters.
Clay drags a hand down his face.
“We split,” he says immediately. “Lucas and Miles extract civilians. Russ covers the south entrance.”
“And you?” Russ asks.
Clay’s eyes lock on mine.
Every bit of air leaves my lungs.
“I'm getting her out myself.”
The words hit somewhere deep and dangerous inside my chest.
Because he says it like there was never another option.
Gunfire erupts again from deeper inside the warehouse.
One of the younger children screams.
I move instantly toward the sound—
And Clay catches my arm again before I can take two steps.
“Hannah.”
I turn back toward him impatiently.
“What?”
For one brief second, the chaos around us fades beneath the look in his eyes.
Raw fear.
Real fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
“You stay where I can see you.”
The words come out rough.
Demanding.
Almost angry.
And suddenly I understand something terrifying.
Clay isn’t just emotionally involved anymore.
He’s terrified of losing me.
The realization hits hard enough to steal my breath for half a second.
Then another explosion rocks the building.
Reality slams back in immediately.
I pull free from his grip and grab a terrified little girl crouched near a fallen support beam.
“Then keep up,” I snap over my shoulder.
And somewhere behind me—
I swear I hear Miles laughing like this is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.