Nobody stops until Lucas finally throws up a hand.
“Here.”
The group collapses where they stand.
One of the mothers drops to her knees, clutching two crying children against her chest. Hannah bends over with her hands braced on her thighs, sucking in air. Stephen mutters curses under his breath while scanning the darkness.
I slow carefully.
Big mistake.
Olivia sees the blood immediately.
Her eyes narrow. “You’re hit.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It is absolutely not nothing.”
She’s already moving toward me before I can answer.
“Sit down.”
I open my mouth.
Then close it again.
Because judging by the look on her face, this isn’t a discussion.
I lower myself onto a flat rock with a grimace.
I hate this.
Hate sitting still.
Hate needing help even more.
Olivia drops to her knees in front of me and pushes my jacket aside.
Cold air hits the wound.
Then her expression hardens.
“You’re bleeding through everything.”
“I noticed.”
“This isn’t a graze.”
“Well,” I mutter, “that’s inconvenient.”
Her glare could cut steel. “Stop talking.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She presses folded cloth against the wound.
Pain punches straight through me hard enough to drag a rough breath from my chest.
