Chapter 8
Russ
Idon’t sleep.
Not after almost kissing her.
Not after the way she looked at me right before Hannah called her name.
So I sit near the mouth of the shelter with my rifle across my knees while the storm slowly dies outside.
Hour by hour, the wind weakens.
The screaming gusts turn into low whistles through the rocks.
Then silence.
Cold, sharp silence.
By the time dawn starts bleeding gray over the mountains, everybody else is out cold.
Children curled beneath blankets.
Mothers wrapped around them protectively.
Lucas asleep against the stone wall with his weapon still in his hand.
Clay flat on his back like a corpse.
Miles somehow snoring loud enough to deserve its own tactical response.
Unbelievable.
And Olivia—
She’s on the opposite side of the shelter.
As far from me as physically possible.
That shouldn’t bother me.
It does anyway.
I look away first.
Bad sign.
Movement catches my attention a few minutes later.
Olivia carefully untangles herself from the sleeping children around her and kneels beside the little boy from last night.
Two fingers to his neck.
Checking.
Always checking.
Even exhausted, she starts with them first.
Of course she does.
She adjusts a blanket around the smallest girl before quietly slipping outside.
I wait maybe ten seconds before following her.
Cold air hits immediately.
The mountains are pale with frost now, the sky barely starting to lighten.
Olivia stands near the ridge with her arms folded tightly across herself, staring out over the valley below.
She hears my boots crunch against the frozen dirt.
Her shoulders tense.
Just slightly.
Then by the time she turns around, the expression is gone.
Professional.
Calm.
Like last night never happened.
I already hate it.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
Short answer.
Careful voice.
Message received.
“You should eat something,” I say.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You barely ate yesterday either.”
“I’m fine.”
There it is again.
Always fine.
Wind drifts between us, carrying cold air through the silence.
Not the same silence as before.
This one feels sharp around the edges.
Like broken glass.
Olivia glances toward the shelter. “We should move before visibility improves.”
Mission talk.
Safe territory.
“Yeah.”
She nods once but doesn’t look at me again.
“Doc.”
Stephen’s voice cuts through the quiet as he climbs out of the shelter rubbing sleep from his eyes.
He stops beside Olivia with a tired smile. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
“You saved that kid last night.” He shakes his head slightly. “Honestly, that was incredible.”
Olivia immediately shrugs it off. “He’s still critical.”
“Still breathing though.” Stephen steps closer. “Because of you.”
Something ugly tightens low in my chest.
Don’t like the way he’s looking at her.
Don’t like how close he’s standing either.
Olivia looks uncomfortable under the praise, eyes dropping briefly toward the ground.
“You stayed calm,” Stephen says. “Most people wouldn’t have.”
Yeah.
That’s exactly the problem.
“Doctor.”
My voice cuts across the conversation sharper than intended.
Olivia looks toward me immediately. “What?”
“We’re moving.”
Stephen blinks. “Already?”
“Yes.”
“We just survived a blizzard,” he says. “The kids could use another hour.”
“No.”
Flat.
Final.
The atmosphere shifts instantly.
Olivia steps slightly between us without even realizing she’s doing it.
“Some of them are exhausted,” she says carefully. “A few are borderline hypothermic.”
“And if we stay here when those men regroup?”
“They might need more recovery time.”
“They need distance more.”
The words come harder now.
Too hard.
Olivia studies my face for a long second.
Then quietly—
“Why are you doing this?”
I narrow my eyes. “Doing what?”
“This.” Her hand motions vaguely between us. “Whatever this is.”
I laugh once without humor. “We don’t have time for this conversation.”
“I wasn’t trying to have a conversation.”
“Good.”
The word comes out sharper than intended.
Stephen glances awkwardly between us.
Olivia’s expression cools another degree.
“You’ve been acting different since last night.”
My jaw tightens instantly.
Bad topic.
“Last night didn’t happen.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I want them back.
Too late.
Something flickers across her face.
Small.
Quick.
Still enough to hit harder than a bullet.
“I understand,” she says softly.
No anger.
That would’ve been easier.
Just distance.
Controlled. Professional distance.
She nods once. “I’ll get everyone ready.”
Then she turns and walks back toward the shelter before I can stop her.
Not that I should stop her.
This is better.
Cleaner.
Necessary.
So why does it feel like I just made a mistake?
“You handled that beautifully.”
Miles appears beside me, voice dry with sarcasm.
“Shut up.”
“Oh, absolutely not.” He crosses his arms against the cold. “You almost kissed the woman six hours ago and now you’re acting like she tried to hand you a live grenade.”
“She’s a distraction.”
Miles snorts. “Sure.”
“She is.”
“For the mission?” He looks toward the shelter where Olivia is helping one of the mothers bundle up a child. “Or for you?”
I don’t answer.
Don’t need to.
Miles smirks anyway.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Thought so.”
I glare at him.
He just grins wider.
Unbelievable.