Was Roberto trying to reach her? Or trying to hide her?
I reach the walk-in freezer, my composure slipping at the sight of the industrial shelving unit blocking the door. Metal groans as I grab the edge, but it barely shifts.
“Marcus.” My voice comes out harder than intended.
He’s already moving to help, but the shelving unit refuses to budge. Sirens wail closer, their pitch rising with my pulse.
“Eve!” I slam my palm against the door. No response.
The metal shelf scrapes against concrete as we struggle with its weight. Years of maintaining perfect control fracture with each second of silence from inside that freezer.
“Eve, answer me.” The command in my voice can’t mask the undertone I’m failing to suppress.
Marcus braces his shoulder against the shelf. “Sir, we need—”
“Push harder.” The words scrape out between clenched teeth.
Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cold air seeping through the door’s seal. The shelf shifts inches at a time, each movement too damn slow.
“Eve!” My fist connects with the door again.
The sirens are deafening now. We have minutes, maybe less. My careful planning, my calculated moves—none of it matters if she’s—
No. I shut down that thought.
“There,” Marcus grunts as we finally create enough space.
I wedge myself between the shelf and wall, yanking at the freezer’s handle.
Arctic air hits me like a physical blow. The overhead light flickers, casting harsh shadows across steel racks and frost-covered boxes. My breath clouds in front of me as I scan the space.
She’s crumpled against the far wall, unmoving. Her skin has taken on a bluish tint that stops my heart for a beat. Her lips, usually ready with a sharp retort, are colorless and still.
“Eve.” Her name comes out raw as I cross to her in two strides.
My hands shake—actually shake—as I press fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse. The seconds stretch like years as I wait, pray, for that flutter of life beneath my touch.
“Sir.” Marcus’s voice seems distant. “First responders, one minute out.”
I barely hear him. Everything narrows to the cold skin under my fingertips and the deafening silence of my own heartbeat.
“Come on, Eve.” The words escape before I can stop them. “Don’t you dare—”
I feel it—the faintest flutter beneath my fingers. Relief crashes through me with such force I almost stagger.
“She’s alive.” My voice sounds strange to my own ears.
I shed my suit jacket, wrapping it around her frozen form. Her skin is ice against mine as I lift her, cradling her close to share what warmth I can. Her head lolls against my chest, dark hair dusted with frost.
“Marcus, clear the path.”
He moves ahead of me, speaking rapidly into his comm unit as I carry Liv through the kitchen and out.
If I lose control now, I lose everything.
I cradle Liv closer as Marcus yanks open the Audi’s door. Her skin still feels like ice against mine, each shallow breath a reminder of how close we cut it. Sliding into the back seat with her head in my lap, I bark orders at Marcus.
“Drive. Take Washington to avoid the response teams.”
