Chapter 30
Russ
The hospital doors burst open before the vehicle fully stops.
Bright white light slams into us.
Voices overlap instantly.
“Move!”
“Trauma bay ready!”
“Pressure’s dropping!”
The stretcher jerks beneath Olivia as the medics rush her inside, wheels rattling hard across tile floors.
I stay beside her.
Close enough to touch.
Always close enough.
Blood keeps soaking through the dressings pressed against her side.
Too much.
Way too much.
“Stay with me,” I say again.
I don’t even know if she can hear me anymore.
Her face looks ghost-pale beneath the fluorescent lights, lips nearly colorless now. Every breath comes shallow and uneven, like her body’s forgetting how to keep fighting.
A nurse steps in front of me briefly. “Sir, we need room—”
“No.”
The word cuts out sharper than intended.
She hesitates.
The doctor glances toward me while walking beside the stretcher, reading the situation in one quick look.
Then he nods once.
“He stays. Just don’t interfere.”
As if I could walk away now.
They wheel Olivia straight into trauma.
Machines start screaming almost immediately.
Monitors flash.
People move fast around her.
Too fast.
Not fast enough.
“Pressure crashing.”
“Prep blood now.”
“Possible internal bleed.”
Every word lands like another bullet.
I stop near the wall, fists clenched hard enough my hands ache while doctors cut away the rest of the bandages covering her side.
More blood.
Jesus Christ.
My stomach turns cold.
“Olivia.”
No response.
I step closer before I can stop myself.
“Hey.” My voice comes out rough. “You’re okay.”
Lie.
Doesn’t matter.
She needs to hear it anyway.
I need to say it.
Nurses move around me carrying blood bags and surgical trays while the trauma surgeon presses hard against the wound.
“We’re losing too much. OR now.”
Surgery.
The word punches straight through my chest.
They start moving her again immediately.
I go with them automatically.
Nobody stops me this time.
Not until we reach the double doors leading deeper into surgical.
The doctor turns toward me finally.
“You can’t go farther.”
I stare at him.
He doesn’t back down.
“She needs surgery. You being in there won’t help her.”
Every instinct inside me says ignore him.
Push past him.
Stay with her anyway.
But then I look at Olivia.
Really look at her.
Still.
Too still.
And I know he’s right.
This is where I hand her life over to strangers and pray they bring her back to me.
God, I hate that.
I reach for her hand one last time.
Cold.
Too cold.
“Hey.”
Her lashes don’t move.
Still, I lean closer.
“I’m right here.”
The words scrape out rougher now.
“You don’t leave me. You hear me?”
Nothing.
Fear claws hard through my chest.
“I didn’t come this far to lose you now.”
Still nothing.
But I keep holding her hand anyway.
One more second.
One more breath.
Then a nurse gently pulls her away from me.
And the doors close.
Just like that.
Gone.
The silence afterward feels worse than gunfire.