Chapter 38
Kade
Ijog back to the bar, annoyance simmering—the damn generator took way longer than it should have. A glance at my watch makes it worse: I’ve left Liv waiting for nearly forty-five minutes.
With a frustrated sigh and a mental list of ways to make it up to her, I push through the crowd. Laughter, music, and the clink of glasses fill the air, but when I reach the spot where I left her, she’s gone.
I frown, scanning the crowd with a sharp huff. Great. She probably got bored of waiting and wandered off. I spin, checking the area again, then turn back toward the bar, eyes sweeping the room. Still no sign of her.
I pull out my phone and dial her number. It rings once, twice, then jumps straight to voicemail.
“Perfect,” I mutter under my breath. With a frustrated sigh, I scroll through my contacts and hit Aubrey’s name.
She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Is Liv with you?” I ask, glancing around the crowd again. “I got held up with the generator, and now she’s vanished.”
There’s a pause on the other end, muffled voices in the background. “No, she’s not here. I haven’t seen her since earlier.”
I frown, irritation pricking sharper now. “Alright. If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”
“Will do,” Aubrey says before hanging up.
I shove the phone back in my pocket and start weaving through the crowd, scanning every face I pass. The music thumps in my chest, laughter and shouting blending into a constant buzz that grates on my nerves.
Maybe she went looking for me. Hell, I did leave her sitting here for almost an hour—wouldn’t blame her if she got tired of waiting.
If that’s the case, we probably passed each other somewhere in this chaos.
Jaw tight, I turn and head back toward the generator, shoving through the press of bodies, eyes still sweeping the crowd for any sign of her.
When I reach the generator, I find Trent still there, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed.
“Hey,” I call, striding up to him. “Liv come this way after I left?”
He shakes his head immediately. “Haven’t seen her.”
My frown deepens. “You’re sure?”
“Pretty damn sure,” Trent says with a shrug. “No one’s come by since you took off.”
I glance back toward the crowd, jaw tight. Great. So much for that theory.
A flicker of panic creeps in as I work out my next move. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call Liv again. Like before, it rings twice before going straight to voicemail.
“Fuck,” I snap, shoving the phone back in my pocket.
Trent narrows his eyes. “What’s up?”
“I can’t find Liv,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “She’s gone from where I left her.”
“Did she leave the festival?”
“She wouldn’t just leave without me,” I say, jaw clenched.
Trent nods, reading the tension in my voice. “Alright, I’ll help you look. I’ll check that side,” he says, pointing down the path.
“Fine,” I reply, already moving the other way.
I push through the crowd, eyes sharp as I search every face, every corner.
I spot Aubrey and Justin up ahead and quicken my pace.
“Anything?” I ask, breath catching.
Aubrey shakes her head. “No. We haven’t seen her.”
A cold knot tightens in my chest. Something’s not right. The crowd feels louder now, the laughter and music grating in my ears as my mind races.
“She wouldn’t just disappear,” I mutter, more to myself than to them.
Justin frowns. “You checked everywhere?”
“I’ve been through half the damn festival,” I snap, running a hand through my hair. “She’s not here.”
Aubrey steps closer, concern clear on her face. “Kade, maybe we should tell someone. Get security involved.”
My pulse hammers in my ears. I glance toward the paths leading out of the festival, scanning every face, every shadow.
“Yeah, okay,” I say, already moving toward security with Aubrey and Justin close behind.
Before we even reach the booth, my phone vibrates in my hand. Trent.
I swipe to answer. “Yeah?”
“Get to the left side of the square,” he says, voice tight. “The alley behind the pop-up bar. Liv’s unconscious.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
I whirl toward security, shouting, “I need medical staff to the left side of the square, behind the pop-up bar—now!”
Then I’m running, heart slamming in my chest, the crowd blurring as I shove past people.
“Kade!” Aubrey calls after me, Justin right behind her, but I don’t slow down.
All I can think about is Liv.
I round the corner into the alley, my chest burning from the sprint.
Trent is crouched beside her, his face grim. Liv lies on the ground, pale against the rough pavement, her hair spilling across her face.
“Liv,” I breathe, dropping to my knees beside her. My hands hover uselessly for a second before I brush her hair back, searching for any sign of her eyes fluttering open. “Come on, baby, wake up.”
“She’s breathing,” Trent says quickly, trying to keep me calm. “She’s out cold, but she’s breathing.”
I grab her hand, squeezing it like I can will her back to me. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might tear through my chest.
The sound of rushing footsteps cuts through the haze, and then the medical team is there, kneeling beside us.
“Sir, we need space,” one of them says, and Aubrey gently tugs me back. I don’t let go of Liv’s hand until they’re already checking her pulse.
I watch as one person fits an oxygen mask over her face while the other speaks quickly into a radio, calling for an ambulance.
Aubrey’s hand grips my arm, Justin standing stiffly beside her, his jaw tight. Trent, on the other side of me, keeps glancing between me and Liv, his eyes tight with worry.
The wail of sirens grows louder, and moments later, the ambulance pulls up nearby. The paramedics work fast, lifting Liv carefully onto a stretcher, securing straps as they talk to each other in clipped, urgent tones.
“I’m going with her,” I bark.
One of the paramedics looks up, meeting my eyes. I recognize him—Brandon’s grade in school, though his name escapes me.
“Kade, you know the rules. Family only.”
“She doesn’t have family here. I’m as close as it gets. I’m fucking going,” I snap, my voice sharp enough to make him hesitate.
After a beat, he nods reluctantly and steps aside.
As they wheel Liv toward the ambulance, I glance back at Aubrey, Justin, and Trent. “Elson General,” I tell them, my voice firm. “Meet me there.”
Aubrey nods quickly, Justin already pulling out his keys, and Trent gives me a grim look of agreement.
Then I climb into the ambulance, taking my place beside Liv as they shut the doors behind me.
Inside, the rush of flashing lights and hurried movement is a brutal contrast to the silence pressing down on me. I’m strapped in next to her, my hands clenched so tight my knuckles ache.
The paramedics move fast, checking her vitals, hooking her up to monitors. Every beep, every rise and fall of her chest feels like a ticking clock, counting down to… something I don’t even want to name.
I lean forward as far as the straps will let me, my eyes locked on her pale face. Reaching for her hand, I grip it tight, refusing to let go as the paramedics’ work, scribbling notes and checking her over.
“You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine,” I falter, my voice rough. “Just… just hang on, okay? I’m right here.”
The ambulance screeches to a stop outside the hospital, and the doors fly open. The rush of cold night air mixes with the sharp, sterile scent that hits me the moment we’re moving.
They wheel her out fast, the stretcher bumping slightly over the concrete, and I follow close behind, swallowed by a blur of footsteps, clipped orders, and the hum of fluorescent lights.
Every second stretches unbearably long as doctors wheel her through the emergency room doors, leaving me stranded in the hallway, hands clenched tight, whispering desperate prayers to a universe that suddenly feels cruel.
I’m led to a waiting room which is too bright, too quiet—a jarring contrast to the chaos I just left. I sink onto the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, burying my face in my hands as the weight of everything crashes over me, heavy enough to crush the air from my lungs.
The soft shuffle of footsteps pulls me from the fog. Aubrey and Trent appear in the doorway, their faces pale, eyes heavy with worry.
Aubrey lowers herself beside me, her voice soft but edged with urgency. “Kade… how is she?”
I stay silent, my throat constricted, the words lodged deep and refusing to come. Trent stands nearby, his usual confidence stripped away, replaced by a raw, palpable worry.
For a long, heavy moment, we sit in silence. The sterile hum of the hospital fades into the background, drowned out by the turmoil raging inside me.
At last, I let out a fractured whisper. “I don’t know. No one’s told me anything.”
Aubrey and Trent practically haul me to my feet, guiding me to a nearby chair and easing me down.
“As soon as they have news, they’ll come find us,” Aubrey says softly, leaning her head briefly against my shoulder.
Minutes stretch, stretching into hours, until finally the door opens and a man steps inside. “Kade? I’m Dr. Ashford. I’ve been overseeing Olivia’s care.”
I spring up, heart hammering. “How is she? What’s going on?”
Dr. Ashford takes a steadying breath. “She’s still unconscious, but stable for now. We’ve placed her on oxygen and drawn blood for testing. She’s had a CT scan as well, and we’re waiting on those results.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Do you have any idea what caused this?”
“Not yet,” he says honestly. “It could be a number of things—drug overdose, poisoning, or a medical condition. We’re running every test to find out.”
“Liv doesn’t do drugs,” I say sharply, protective.
“As I said, we’re checking everything.”
Panic creeps in. “Have you contacted her family?”
“Not yet. We wanted to ensure she was stable before reaching out.”
“Please don’t call them,” I say, my voice steady but urgent. The doctor pauses, studying me carefully, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. I rush to fill the silence. “She doesn’t have a relationship with her family. At least wait until she wakes up and can decide if she wants them here. Please.”
After a moment, he nods. “I understand. I’ll keep you updated.”
He turns to leave, but I catch his arm gently. “Can I see her?”
He looks back at me, his expression softening as he reads the desperation and pain etched on my face. “Yes,” he says quietly. “But no one else.” His eyes briefly glance toward the doorway behind me.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat, and follow him down the corridor toward Liv’s room.
The door slides open with a soft hiss, and the sterile light spills into the quiet room. There she lies—Liv—still and pale beneath the crisp white sheets, an oxygen mask resting gently over her face. Her dark hair fans out like a shadow against the pillow, so peaceful yet unbearably fragile.
I step inside slowly; every breath caught in my throat. The hum of the machines feels impossibly loud in the silence. Moving closer, I stand beside the bed, careful not to disturb her. My fingers brush a loose strand of hair from her forehead, lingering just a moment longer than I should.
“I’m here,” I whisper, voice thick with something raw and urgent. “I love you, Liv. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”
The words hang in the air, small but fierce—a quiet promise in the cold, sterile room.