Bang. Bang. Bang.
Gunfire erupts outside, bullets slamming into the car’s frame, shattering the passenger-side window. Glass rains down in jagged shards, and I drop down, instincts taking over as I scramble down into the footwell, reaching blindly for Meg. She doesn’t resist as I haul her against me, curling my body over hers, shielding her from the chaos unfolding all around. Her breath is brittle, her entire frame trembling beneath my grip, and fear coils sharp and tight in my stomach.
The car jerks suddenly, the doors bursting open as Harrison and the driver run for it. They fire wildly over their shoulders, the deafening cracks of their guns mixing with the return fire from officers, but neither of them hesitates. I glimpse Harrison’s silhouette vanishing between two parked cars, the driver hot on his heels. As soon as the chase is taken away from the vehicle, it’s surrounded by uniformed figures.
Heavy boots thud against asphalt. The clatter of weapons being raised. My fingers tighten around Meg, my heart slamming against my ribs as I force myself not to flinch at the aggressive yells of “Hands where we can see them!”and “Stay down!”
Somewhere through the madness, through the storm of flashing lights and weapons trained in our direction, Wyatt’s voice cuts a path directly to my ears. He yells my name, a rough and desperate sound that twists my insides into knots. That singular word, that raw rasp, imprints itself in my skull.
I lift my head just as the car door is wrenched open, my eyes immediately locking onto his. He’s standing there, his expression a violent tornado of emotions, his jaw tight, his wild green eyes searching every inch of me like he’s trying to memorize me, to assess every injury, every bruise, and every breath I take, in one single glance.
And then he’s crouching beside the car, his hands reaching for me. I clasp his shaking fingers as they brush over my bloodied face and my tangled hair. The throbbing of my cheek intensifies at his gentle touch; his chest is rising and falling rapidly. His entire body vibrates with barely restrained anger. He exhales sharply. “Angel.”
That’s all he says. And it’s enough to undo me. My throat tightens, my eyes burn, and my body instinctively sways toward him because no matter what he’s done, no matter how many lines we’ve crossed, no matter how fractured and fucked-up we are or what the rest of the world might say, this is where I belong. Right here, with his hands cradling my face, his forehead almost brushing mine, his pulse hammering just as frantically as my own.
“She’s… she’s not okay,” I manage, my voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper, as I shift slightly, revealing Meg still curled against me. Her body is boneless, and her skin is pale. “I can’t, I can’t get through…”
“I’ve got her,” Thiago cuts in. He’s at the other door, opening it much more calmly than Wyatt could have managed. My arms tighten around her instinctively, and Thiago notices. He lowers with ease, keeping his easy smile in place. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”
It’s not that I don’t trust Thiago, but that my trust with Meg is shot for anyone. I want to be the one to help her, but then I look down and note the way she’s curled herself away from me, only remaining in my hold because she’s too weak to move away.
Swallowing, I ease my arms back, my heart splintering with every inch I put between us. For so long, I’d pictured a joyous reunion that she’d smile and tell me I did good. But that’s a far cry from reality. I haven’t done anything but fail her.
Thiago moves into the car, his movements precise and gentle as he scoops Meg into his arms, lifting her against his chest like she weighs nothing. She makes a slight, weak sound, barely stirring, and Thiago’s lips press into a grim line as he turns, already moving toward the paramedics on standby.
Wyatt doesn’t move, doesn’t look away from me. His fingers ghost down my arms as if he’s checking to make sure I’m in one piece.
“Can you stand?” he asks, something strained in his voice. It’s like he’s been screaming for hours and is struggling to return to an appropriate level. I nod, even though my entire body feels like lead, likeevery muscle is locked, like I’m barely holding myself together. Wyatt’s arms slide around my waist to ease me onto the seat, and the second I feel his warmth and his unshakable presence anchoring me, I break.
Not with sobs, tears, or words. Just a shuddering exhale, my forehead dropping against his shoulder, my fingers twisting into his jacket, gripping hard enough to hurt. He doesn’t rush me, nor does he say anything. Wyatt simply tightens his embrace, his hand pressing flat against the back of my head, his other arm locking around my waist, and keeping me right there against him, safe and steady.
The world beyond him is still spinning too fast and too loud, but Wyatt doesn’t loosen his grip, even as the police swarm around us. Torch lights flicker over our faces in a twisted strobe effect.
Wyatt’s fingers move, skimming my neck, threading gently into my hair. His touch is reverent, even though I can feel his entire body thrumming with residual rage and the aftershocks of almost losing me. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I saw you,” he finally says. It’s a strangled sound, as if he’s afraid something will shatter between us. “Through the windscreen. I saw you attack him. If you ever do something that reckless again,” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening, his thumb stroking over my broken cheekbone, like he needs the proof that I’m alive.
“I’m fine, Wyatt,” I offer weakly, tugging his hand away. “I knew you’d come for me.”
“I’ll chase you down. Every damn time.” Wyatt grunts without hesitation. A warming feeling blossoms in my chest, the strain I’ve been harboring for weeks finally easing. I reach up, tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the tension locked tight in his muscles with my fingertips.
“And I’ll always find my way back to you,” I whisper before I can second-guess the weight they hold. Wyatt’s breath catches, just slightly, but then his head dips until his lips are pressed against mine. A single, sweet kiss that contains a world’s worth of promises. Wyatt has come to mean more to me than I ever expected, and now that we’ve stopped pushing each other away, the possibilities for us are endless. Our future actually stands a chance.
A sharp voice breaks the moment, and I barely process the uniformed figure crouching beside us until Wyatt lets out a low, reluctant sigh and pulls back.
“She needs checking over,” the paramedic says, and Wyatt doesn’t argue, helping to shift me to the edge of the open car door, allowing her to take my vitals, check my wounds, and ask questions I can barely answer. I let her work, but my attention is diverted. I'm searching for Meg.
I spot her just as the ambulance doors are shutting, Thiago’s figure lingering beside her stretcher, his face grim. For someone who is usually so upbeat and casual, the look doesn’t bode well. The vehicle pulls away, sirens wailing into the night, and it might as well rip my heart out with it. Meg has been saved. She’s going to be okay, but I have the sinking feeling that I didn’t really get her back.
I’m coaxed out of the car, Wyatt’s arm around my middle supporting me when all I have is an oncoming headache and a pair of jittery legs. A foil blanket is wrapped around my shoulders to block out the cold seeping into my skin, the jumpsuit doing nothing to protect me from the night’s air. But I hardly feel it.
We make it to the ambulance when two more police cars skid to a stop down the road. The driver catches sight of who I imagine is his superior and holds up a hand, mouthing, ‘Don’t ask.’Garrett jumps out first, quickly followed by Huxley. Dax hangs back to check Axel is okay, but even Axel is moving quicker than I’ve seen in weeks. I want to tell him to slow down, that there’s no rush, but it’s pointless. I want them to be here as quickly as they can manage.
Wyatt steps aside but doesn’t go more than arm’s length away, which is lucky because as Garrett barrels straight into me, he manages to grab Garrett’s collar and drag him back a step. On a second attempt, Gare approaches gently, sinking onto the step at my feet and clinging to my shins.
Dax’s hand lands on my shoulder as he eyes me to ensure I’m still in one piece. Hux unapologetically strides straight in to embrace me. Taking my hand in his, Axel lets out a quiet, shuddering breath before brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.
The street is a blur of flashing lights and shifting figures, the sirens and radios blending into a distant hum, but all I can focus on is the warmth of their bodies surrounding me, anchoring me to something solid. My knees are bent, my feet planted on the ambulance's step, and my arms wrapped tightly around Huxley’s torso as he holds me close,his heartbeat thudding against my ear. His grip is secure but gentle, his breath stirring the top of my hair as he presses his cheek to my head.
