Phoenix stumbles, his head cracking hard against the tile of the entryway. The sound is sickening. He crumples, blood blooming against the floor.
The whole room freezes.
“Phoenix!” I drop to my knees next to him, my hands sticky with his blood.
He doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed, blood running down his temple.
“Call 911!” I scream at no one in particular, my throat raw. “Now!”
My mind refuses to focus—panic drowning rational thought. He’s not supposed to be hurt like this. Not because of some petty fight with a teammate. Not because I allowed them to disrespect him. Not on my watch.
“Phoenix! Wake up! Look at me!” My voice cracks, probably too loud, but I don’t care. I can feel the eyes of the team, the whispers, the shock—they’re all frozen on us—but nothing matters except him.
He groans softly, and my chest squeezes in relief, but then he opens his eyes, blinking, still dazed. Blood streaks his hairline, dark and sharp against his skin. I feel bile rise, a mix of rage and fear.
Jax is crouched behind me, fumbling for his phone, probably dialing 911 with shaky fingers. I can hear him giving the dispatcher the address while I stay pressed against Phoenix, murmuring his name like a mantra.
“Stay awake, you hear me? Stay awake.”
Johnny brings me a hand towel to press against to stop his head to slow the bleeding.
He squeezes my hand weakly, a small smile curling at the edge of his lips. “Lee…” His voice is hoarse, strained. “You—don’t… panic.”
I shake my head, almost crying. “I am panicking! You’re bleeding everywhere! You’re…” My words break. I can’t even finish the sentence. “You’re supposed to be fine. You’re supposed to be here with me.”
He laughs, low and ragged, and it’s like a lifeline. “I’m fine… Don’t… baby me.”
“Fine?!” I shout.
Phoenix groans, but he’s alive, and that’s all I can hold on to. I press closer, trying to keep him steady, my heart hammering like I’ve run a marathon.
The ambulance sirens cut through the night, a piercing shriek that finally pushes the team back to reality. A couple of guys step forward, Eric standing frozen, guilt plastered across his face, but I can’t even look at him. I only see Phoenix. Only care about Phoenix.
Paramedics are kneeling down, taking over. I’m shoved gently to the side, but I don’t move far, staying right beside him as they load him onto the stretcher. He keeps reaching for me with weak, bloody fingers. “Baby… stay…”
“I’m not leaving you,” I snap, climbing into the ambulance as they secure him. The ride is a blur of red lights, sirens, and my own racing heartbeat. I’m pressed to his side, hands on his chest, leaning close so he can hear me breathe, hear me whisper, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He’s groaning softly, drifting in and out, and I feel panic flare again. “Please don’t do this, don’t fall asleep,” I whisper fiercely, tears streaking my face. I’ve never felt so helpless, so aware of how fragile the world can feel when it comes to the people you love.
“Lee…” he murmurs weakly, voice rough, “you… always… here.”
“Yes. Always,” I choke out. “And you’re mine. Remember that, Captain. You’re mine.”
On the ride to the hospital, the sirens wailing in my ears, I fumble for my phone with shaking hands.
My vision swims as I hit dial.
“Silas,” I choke out when he answers, my voice breaking. “It’s Phoenix. He—he’s hurt. He’s bleeding. I don’t know if he’s—please, I don’t know what to do?—”
And then I can’t say anything else. Just sobs, my body curled around Phoenix’s limp one as the ambulance races through the night.
19
PHOENIX
My eyes flutter open, heavy and sore, every movement of my head sending sharp pains through my skull. I blink against the sterile hospital lights, groaning softly. My hand instinctively goes up to touch the bandages at my hairline, the faint sting reminding me just how close I came to a disaster last night.
Then I see Leander.
