Chapter 29
Russ
The inside of the exfil vehicle feels too small.
Too bright.
Too loud.
Metal rattles beneath us every time the tires slam through another rut, and Olivia’s body jerks with each impact stretched across the bench in front of me.
Blood keeps soaking through the medic’s gauze.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
“Pressure,” the medic snaps.
“I’m already on it.”
My hand presses harder against the wound.
Olivia flinches sharply beneath me.
I hate that.
“Easy,” I murmur automatically.
Nothing about this is easy.
The medic cuts the rest of her shirt open with trauma shears, exposing the wound fully.
And for one horrible second—
Everything inside me goes completely still.
Blood everywhere.
Her skin too pale beneath it.
The medic swears quietly under his breath.
“Entry wound. No exit.”
Bad.
Very bad.
“Talk to me,” I demand.
The medic doesn’t even look up while packing the wound tighter. “We stabilize her and pray nothing vital got hit.”
Not good enough.
“Do better.”
That finally earns me a sharp glance. “You want miracles, find a church.”
Olivia’s hand shifts weakly beneath mine.
I look at her instantly.
Her eyes are barely open now.
Heavy.
Unfocused.
Still searching for me anyway.
“Hey.”
I lean closer immediately.
“There you are.”
Her lips part slightly. “Still… here…”
The words scrape out thin and fragile.
Nothing like her normal voice.
That sound tears straight through my chest.
“Good,” I tell her quietly. “Stay right there.”
She tries to smile.
It barely happens.
The medic shoves another dressing hard into the wound.
Olivia gasps sharply, body arching weakly off the bench.
My hand cups her face instantly.
“I know,” I murmur. “I know. Just breathe.”
Her fingers grab onto my wrist hard enough to hurt.
Good.
Pain means she’s still fighting.
“Hurts…”
“I know.”
God, I know.
If I could rip this pain out of her and take it myself, I would.
Without hesitation.
“Stay with me.”
Her eyes drift closed.
No.
Cold panic spikes instantly through my chest.
“Olivia.”
Nothing.
I shake her shoulder gently.
“Olivia.”
The medic swears under his breath. “Don’t let her check out.”
“I’m trying.”
“Then keep her awake.”
I lean closer immediately, one hand still pressing hard against the wound while the other cradles her jaw.
“Hey.”
Come on.
“You promised me something, remember?”
Her lashes flutter weakly.
That’s something.
“You said you weren’t going anywhere.”
A tiny crease forms between her brows.
“There you go.”
I brush my thumb carefully across her cheek.
Grounding myself in the fact she’s still breathing.
Still warm beneath my hands.
“You don’t get to leave now,” I say quietly. “Not after I finally got you back.”
Her breathing stutters.
Too shallow.
The medic checks her pulse again and looks toward the front.
“We need to move faster!”
“We’re already flying!” Miles shouts back from the driver’s compartment.
The vehicle slams through another dip in the road.
Olivia gasps weakly, fingers tightening once around mine before slipping again.
Too weak.
Way too weak.
I grab her hand harder.
“No.”
Her head turns slightly toward my voice.
“Russ…”
“Yeah.” I lean closer instantly. “I’m here.”
Her lips barely move now. “The kids…”
Of course.
Even now.
Even bleeding out in the back of an armored vehicle—
She’s thinking about everyone else.
“The team’s getting them,” I tell her. “Lucas and Clay are already inside.”
“Hannah stayed with them…”
“We’ll get her.”
“And Stephen…”
“We’ll get him too.”
Her eyes search mine carefully.
Like she needs certainty to hold onto.
I give it to her.
Even if I have to burn the entire operation to the ground myself.
“They’re coming home,” I say firmly.
Something in her face loosens slightly.
“…okay…”
Her fingers slip again.
Too much.
Way too much.
“Hey.”
I lean closer immediately.
“Stay with me.”
The medic packs more gauze into the wound. “Pressure’s dropping.”
“I’ve got her.”
“You better.”
I barely hear him.
All my focus narrows to Olivia’s face.
To every shallow breath.
Every flicker of movement.
I press my forehead lightly against hers.
“Listen to me.”
Her breath brushes faintly against my skin.
Barely there.
“You remember what you said back there?”
No answer.
I keep talking anyway.
“You said you knew I’d come for you.”
Her lips move weakly.
“…always…”
The word hits like a knife straight through my ribs.
Always.
Yeah.
Always.
My hand tightens around hers.
“Then you know this too,” I whisper roughly. “I’m not losing you. Not tonight.”
Her breathing catches unevenly.
Just enough to keep me breathing too.
“Stay with me.”
The vehicle suddenly slows hard.
Brakes scream.
“We’re here!” Miles shouts.
The back doors burst open instantly.
Cold night air floods inside alongside bright lights and shouting voices.
“Bring her out!”
Hands reach in.
I don’t move.
“Easy,” one medic says sharply. “We’ve got her.”
“I’ve got her.”
The words come out low enough to sound dangerous.
“Then move with us.”
Fine.
But I’m not letting go.
They slide a stretcher beneath her while I stay pressed beside her, one hand still holding pressure against the wound.
Still watching every breath.
Every blink.
Like if I look away for one second, she’ll disappear.
They try to push me back once we hit the pavement outside.
I don’t budge.
“Sir, we need room—”
“No.”
“She needs space.”
“I’m not leaving her.”
The medic studies me for half a second.
Then nods once sharply. “Stay out of the way and keep up.”
Done.
We move fast through hospital doors under brutal fluorescent lights while voices echo around us.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Orders flying everywhere.
Olivia’s eyes flutter open one more time.
And immediately find me.
Always finding me.
“Hey,” I say, walking beside the stretcher.
Her lips barely move.
“…you came…”
Every time.
I bend low enough for only her to hear me.
“I always will.”
Her expression softens faintly.
Then her eyes close again.
Deeper this time.
Too deep.
Fear hits so hard it almost knocks the air out of me.
“Olivia.”
No response.
The medic’s voice cuts sharply through the panic clawing up my throat.
“We’ve got her. Keep moving.”
They rush her deeper into the hospital beneath bright lights and swinging doors.
I follow without hesitation.
Because there is no version of this world where I let her go through this alone.
And while they wheel her toward surgery, one thing settles cold and absolute inside me.
This is not over.
Not until every child is safe.
Not until Hannah Bowers and Stephen Cole come home.
And definitely not until the people responsible learn exactly what happens when they touch someone we love.