The relief is so overwhelming that my knees buckle. Hayes catches me before I hit the ground, easing me down against a tree trunk.
"Easy, boss. We've got you." His hands are already working on my shoulder, cutting away fabric, assessing the damage. "Through and through. Missed the artery. You're lucky."
"Don't feel lucky."
"You're alive and your woman is safe. That's the definition of lucky." Hayes packs the wound with gauze, and I bite back ascream. "This is going to need surgery, but I can stabilize you for transport."
Mace crouches beside me. "We've got four hostiles down and two unaccounted for. Team’s tracking them now. They won't get far."
"The Castellanos hired contractors. Military trained. At least six, maybe more."
"We know. Vivian briefed us." A ghost of a smile crosses his face. "She's impressive, Deck. Ran eleven miles through hostile terrain in the dark, evaded pursuit for four hours, and showed up at our perimeter ready to lead the rescue herself. I had to physically stop her from coming with us."
That sounds like her. Stubborn, fierce, refusing to give up even when the odds are impossible.
God, I love her.
"I need to see her."
"You need surgery."
"After I see her."
Mace exchanges a look with Hayes, some silent communication I'm too exhausted to interpret. Then he nods.
"We'll get you back to the compound. She's waiting."
They help me to my feet, Hayes supporting most of my weight while Mace takes point. The walk back is a blur of pain and determination, my body running on fumes and willpower alone.
The compound appears through the trees just as full dawn breaks, golden light spilling across the buildings. And there, standing on the porch of the main lodge, wrapped in a blanket that's falling off one shoulder because she's too focused on watching the tree line to notice?—
Vivian.
She sees me and her whole body goes rigid. Then she's running, the blanket abandoned, her bare feet slapping against the wooden steps and then the cold ground.
"Deck. Oh god, Deck?—"
She crashes into me, and I grunt as the impact jars my shoulder, but I don't care. I wrap my good arm around her and pull her close, burying my face in her hair, breathing her in.
"You're okay." Her voice is muffled against my chest. "You're okay, you're okay, you're?—"
"I'm okay." I press my lips to the top of her head. "Thanks to you."
She pulls back to look at me, and her face crumples when she sees the blood, the bruises, the mess I've become. Her hands flutter over my chest like she wants to touch me but is afraid she'll hurt me.
"I thought I lost you." Tears stream down her cheeks. "I left you there and I thought?—"
"You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You survived. You got help." I cup her face with my good hand, wiping away tears with my thumb. "You saved my life, Vivian."
"I love you." She says it like a confession, like a prayer, like the only words that matter. "I love you so much, and when I saw you go down?—"
"I know." I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "I know. I love you too."
"Don't ever do that again. Don't ever tell me to leave you."
"I can't promise that."
"Then lie to me." Her hands fist in my bloody shirt. "Lie to me and tell me you'll never make me run again."
