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Rage aside, the need for retribution will have to wait. My Raven needs me, and I’m going to be by her side until I know differently.
She groans, shifting slightly, and I suppress the urge to react to every nuance of her pain. The stranger speaks up, and for the first time, I acknowledge her presence. "She might not wake up without assistance."
My stare, hard and unyielding, meets hers. "I will take care of her."
She retreats only slightly, not as intimidated as I expect. "I'm just saying—"
"I know what you're saying," I cut her off, my focus solely on Olivia. "Thank you for helping her, but she is my responsibility now." I reach into my pocket, grabbing a roll of hundred-dollar bills and tossing it her way. "For calling me when she couldn't."
Without waiting for her response, I lean down to pick up Olivia, holding her reverently yet with urgency. Her body is lax, her injuries evident even beneath the layers of dirt and grime.
Jaxon is at the back of the SUV, holding the door open, his gaze riveted on Olivia's condition. The rage and concern in his eyes reflect only a portion of my own emotions.
None of us say anything as I get in, remaining extra careful with my movements so that Olivia isn’t jarred more than necessary. Her vitals might have been fine when that woman checked them, but I’ve seen enough broken bodies in my lifetime to know that could change at a moment’s notice.
The drive back to Roe compound is done calmly but with efficient speed. My eyes never leave Olivia’s face as Damon and Jaxon discuss things I can’t think about right now.
She’s been beaten to hell. Her clothes are soiled, and I’m certain she’s lost ten pounds in the time since I’ve seen her. My lips press to her bloodied forehead, and I close my eyes briefly, doing my best to remain thankful for having her in my arms.
As much as I want to continue the hunt for Titan—even more so after seeing what he's either done himself or had someone do to my Raven—I know she’s going to need me more than my vengeance.
I abandoned her once before for that same reason, and I won’t make that same choice again. At least not when the situation is as dire as it is now.
Damon pulls into the parking garage of the compound, and I wait for the door to be opened for me again before I dare to move.
Jaxon is on the other side. “Theo is already upstairs, getting set up in your apartment. He’s going to look at you, too.”
As if I’m going to let the doc waste time on me when Olivia needs more help. I ignore Jax as I carefully exit the SUV, Olivia still in my arms.
My focus remains on her precious form, her bruised and battered face a stark testament to the horrors she endured. My lips brush against her forehead again, a gentle caress filled with a mixture of tenderness and fury.
Damon's voice reaches my ears, discussing something with Jaxon that I can't fully process right now. Olivia's presence consumes me, and I can't tear my eyes away from her for more than a fleeting moment.
I see only her, perfect and broken, her features marred by pain. Her weight seems to intensify, a consequence of my waning adrenaline no longer masking my exhaustion. But it's not just her physical weight; it's the weight of responsibility, the weight of love, and the weight of all that's at stake.
“You ripped open your stitches,” Jaxon points out as we’re walking toward the elevator. “You’re letting Theo help you before you pass out from exhaustion and blood loss.”
The fact that I know I have no other choice in the matter if I want to be there for Olivia when she awakens irritates the fuck out of me. Still, I don’t say anything. I keep my focus on holding her in my arms and making sure I have enough strength to get her to the apartment.
No way in hell will I ask Jaxon or Damon to do so on my behalf.
Once we’re in the elevator, I lean against the wall and adjust my hold. My skin is clammy, and I can feel the blood moving down the back of my leg, but I keep my focus as much as I can on Olivia’s face. Seeing the dried crimson in her hair reignites my strength, reminding me that my job protecting her is far from over, even with her safe in my arms.
As soon as the doors open to the fourth floor, I make the final push to get into my apartment. The door is already ajar, and I turn sideways to get in with Olivia still in my arms.
There’s a hospital bed already set up in front of the couch. On one side stands Markus, and the other is Dr. Theo Thomson, who moves to help me, but before I can think my actions through, I’m practically snarling at him not to touch her.
“I need to help her, Luca,” he says gently, not moving his hands aways.
Since I’m well aware of this, I do my best to wipe the glare from my face as I settle her onto the bed. Once her head is on the small flat pillow and her body is stretched out, I know I should go sit down, but I can’t stand the thought of leaving her side.
“Make sure she’s in no immediate danger and then stitch up Luc again,” Damon says from behind me. “He ripped his stitches open and is bleeding all over his floor.”
One quick glance at my feet proves his words accurate, but I don’t give a fuck about the rug beneath me. I’ll toss it out the damn window myself.
Theo doesn’t look up from Olivia’s body when he replies, “I’ll take care of it.” His fingers poke around her face, then around her neck before he forces her eyelids open and shines a light into her unresponsive eyes.
“She’s breathing normally,” he says, but frowns as he does so. “But I’m pretty sure she has at least one cracked rib, a severe concussion, and possibly a skull fracture. I’ll need to take her to my office to get scanned to be sure.”
