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“She’s got a collapsed lung,” Dalton suggests, tearing off his shirt and holding it against the stab wound at his waist, trying to control the bleeding as his face turns white, but considering he hasn’t passed out and managed to make it all the way back to the SUV, I can only assume it’s just a flesh wound, same as the burn to my arm.
Cross tears the bloodied silk gown from Oakley’s chest, getting a real look at the deep stab wound, and it makes me sick, not because of the blood or the injury itself, but because it’s Oakley. I would have endured a million stab wounds if it meant saving her from just this one.
Applying pressure to the stab wound, Cross hovers over her before adjusting himself to straddle her waist, and while he’s able to gain control of the bleeding, there’s no telling what the fuck is happening inside her body right now.
“Come on, Doll. Open those pretty eyes,” I murmur through the car. “You’re not ready to give up yet.”
The drive to the emergency room seems far too long, and I will Zade to go faster, but he’s pushing his SUV to the kind of limit that would have any lesser driver already dead in a shallow grave.
“She’s gonna need surgery,” Cross says, “and after taking out the whole fucking Circle, we don’t have that kind of time on our hands. Maybe an hour, two at max before word starts to spread and it turns into a fucking manhunt.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Zade says. “We’ll lock down the whole fucking hospital if we must, but whatever happens, she does not leave our sight, understood? If Empire comes for us, then we deal with it, pick them off one by one until it calls for something more. Until then, we focus on Oakley getting better. We’re on the run now, our faces will be plastered all over the fucking country, and she needs to be in a place where she can run right along with us because now that Matthias has a legitimate chance at claiming leadership, he won’t stop until she’s dead, even if it takes years.”
“Agreed,” Dalton says just as Oakley’s eyes start to flutter.
I suck in a gasp, all eyes falling to Oakley and watching as she finally comes to, fierce relief pounding through my veins. “Oh thank fuck,” I breathe, my hand slipping into hers and giving a gentle squeeze, letting her know I’m right here and that she doesn’t need to be afraid.
Her gaze lingers on my face, a dreamy smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “This must be heaven,” she croaks, the words struggling to come out with her lack of oxygen. My brows furrow, her comment odd before quickly realizing that she thinks she’s dead.
“Yeah, Doll,” I tell her, preferring her to believe that she’s got us all in heaven over the reality of the fact that her injuries are near fatal. “Everything’s alright now. The worst is over, and now you’re free. You’re going to be just fine.”
She smiles up at me, her eyelids growing heavy just as Zade pulls up in the ambulance bay and shoves his door open wide, frantically calling out to anyone who’ll listen. “I NEED HELP OUT HERE.”
Chapter 28
OAKLEY
The rhythmic beat of my heart rate monitor fills the room, and I try to open my eyes as a dull ache pulses in my chest. My throat hurts, and I feel groggy, but I try to push past it as I peer into the room, finding the faces of my four boys, terror etched into each of their haunted stares.
I want to put them out of their misery, to throw myself from the bed and race into their arms, telling them that I’m alright, but I can’t. All that matters is that rhythmic beat, that repetitive subtle beep telling me that for now, my heart is still where it belongs.
I’m alive against all odds. I’ve defied fate and live to see another day. I get to love again, hold the boys’ faces in my hands and kiss them until the end of time with their warm arms wrapped around me.
Since the day I moved back to Faders Bay, there’s been a countdown on my life. I was never supposed to have luck on my side, yet in that tomb, Zade made the split-second decision to throw away everything he’s worked for. He chose me, he chose our love, and he gave us the future we were always supposed to have. But what exactly is he risking in order to give me that? What exactly has he sacrificed?
My head pounds, and as I open my eyes enough to truly take in the room, I find Easton sitting directly at the end of my hospital bed, his head in his hands as Zade paces the door, his gaze constantly flicking out the window and down the busy hospital corridor as if waiting for some kind of attack.
