Chapter 11
Olivia
Warmth presses around me before I even open my eyes.
Solid.
Steady.
Breathing.
For one strange second, I think I’m still dreaming.
Then the ache in my side pulses sharply enough to drag me fully awake.
I inhale too fast.
Pain follows immediately.
A low hand tightens carefully against my back.
“Easy.”
Russ.
His voice rumbles above me, rough from exhaustion.
Too close.
My eyes open slowly.
Gray morning light spills across the rocks around us. The others are scattered nearby resting in shifts, weapons within reach, children bundled beneath blankets against the cold.
And me?
I’m curled against Russ’s chest like that’s where I belong.
One of his arms is wrapped securely around my waist. My head rests against his shoulder. His jacket is draped over both of us, trapping warmth between our bodies.
I freeze.
Not because I want away from him.
Because I don’t.
And that realization hits harder than the bullet did.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
His hand stays steady against my back.
Not pushing.
Not pulling.
Just there.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
My voice sounds wrecked.
Sleep roughened.
Too soft.
I should move.
Any sane person would move.
Instead, I stay exactly where I am for another dangerous second because his heartbeat is slow and steady beneath my cheek, and for the first time in days, my body doesn’t feel braced for disaster.
“You stayed,” I murmur.
Russ huffs a quiet breath above me. “Yeah.”
Simple answer.
Like leaving never crossed his mind.
I tilt my head back enough to look at him.
There are shadows beneath his eyes now. Dried blood stains the side of his shirt near the wound he keeps pretending doesn’t exist.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m alive.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
The corner of his mouth shifts faintly.
“Sounds familiar.”
Despite everything, a small smile tugs briefly at my lips.
It disappears almost immediately when memory crashes back in.
Gunfire.
Blood.
Falling.
His voice yelling my name.
I tense without meaning to.
Russ notices instantly.
His thumb brushes once against my side in a slow grounding motion.
“You’re thinking too hard again.”
My eyes lift back to his.
“You’re one to talk.”
That earns the smallest reaction.
Barely there.
Still enough to make something dangerous twist low in my chest.
The silence stretches.
Not awkward.
Worse.
Honest.
I swallow hard. “Russ…”
“Don’t.”
Gentle voice.
Firm answer.
That should annoy me.
Instead it makes my pulse kick harder.
“Don’t what?”
He studies me for a long second before answering.
“Don’t pretend last night didn’t happen.”
My breath catches.
Because that’s exactly what I was about to do.
Bury it.
Compartmentalize it.
Push it somewhere deep enough I didn’t have to feel it.
Same way I survive everything else.
“I wasn’t pretending.”
His look says otherwise.
And annoyingly—
He’s right.
I shift slightly, trying to create space between us.
Pain immediately flares through my side.
A sharp breath escapes me.
Russ’s hand tightens instinctively against my waist. “Easy.”
“I’m fine.”
“There it is again.”
I glare weakly at him. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah.”
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes.
The look in them steals the air from my lungs.
No armor.
No distance.
Just him.
Raw enough to scare me.
“You almost died,” he says quietly.
The words settle heavily between us.
“I didn’t.”
“No.” His jaw tightens slightly. “You didn’t.”
Something in his voice makes my chest ache harder than the wound.
Not anger.
Fear.
Real fear.
For me.
I look away first.
Big mistake.
Because the second I do, I become hyperaware of everything.
The heat of his body against mine.
His arm still around me.
The rough scrape of his fingers against my jacket.
The fact that I haven’t moved away.
“I don’t have time for this,” I say softly.
Weak argument.
Even I hear it.
Russ shifts slightly closer instead of farther away.
“You don’t have time to feel something?”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because I honestly don’t know.
And that terrifies me more than being shot did.
“Look at me.”
The words are quiet.
Not a command.
Worse.
A request.
I hesitate anyway.
Then slowly lift my eyes back to his.
The expression on his face nearly undoes me.
Too focused.
Too certain.
“Tell me you didn’t feel it,” he says.
I can’t.
God, I can’t.
Because I felt all of it.
The almost kiss.
The way he carried me like letting go wasn’t an option.
The way I slept easier in his arms than I had in months.
Maybe years.
“You’re dangerous,” I whisper.
One side of his mouth lifts slightly. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”
My gaze drops without permission.
To his mouth.
The second it happens, I know he notices.
Of course he notices.
Russ notices everything.
He moves slowly.
Carefully.
Close enough that his breath brushes my skin now.
Giving me time to stop him.
Giving me an out.
I don’t take it.
My heart pounds so hard I can barely hear anything else.
This is reckless.
Complicated.
A mistake.
And I still want it anyway.
I want him anyway.
After everything—
I’m tired of carrying the weight alone.
His hand slides carefully along my jaw.
Warm fingers against cold skin.
My eyes close halfway before I can stop myself.
Then—
“Movement.”
Lucas’s voice slices through the moment instantly.
I jerk back hard enough pain tears through my side again.
Reality crashes down brutally fast.
Russ is already shifting away from me, every trace of softness gone beneath sharp focus.
“Where?” he snaps.
“South ridge. Two, maybe three.”
Adrenaline floods through me hard enough to wash everything else away.
Good.
Danger I understand.
Pain I understand.
This thing between Russ and me?
That’s the part I have no idea how to survive.