“See??” I snap. “It’s not just me who’s worried about his partner getting hurt. It’sdangerous—”
“This is all dangerous!” Felix gasps. “I can’t just sit in here while other people are out there taking the brunt of it. Not when I know that if anyone deserves to be shot at, it’s me.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m fuming, chest heaving aggressively, though I know it’s out of fear more than anything.
I can’t lose him. I won’t.
Not after everything we went through to get back to one another.
I can’t think about what’s going on out there. I have to focus explicitly on what’s happeningin here. I have patients to treat or else they’ll die.
And I have a serial killer fiancé who seems hellbent on making sure we never get to actually get married.
“Baby, you understand that I’m not telling you not to go because I think you’re incapable of handling it, right?” I take him by the arm, ushering him aside to get some privacy for the barely sixty seconds I have to make this point.
I think he registers the emotion slipping between my words despite how vehemently I’m trying to keep it in. His eyes soften, and he nods.
“Yes. I understand.” He drapes his palms over my chest. “But just like you’re doing your part, I need to do mine.”
“You’ve done your part, Felix.” I plead with my eyes for him to process what I’m saying. “More than.”
“I know, but if there’s a chance I could do more…” He rubs his eyes beneath his glasses. “I don’t know, Lem, I just… I want this to be over.” He gazes up at me with stormy gray seas in his irises. “I want to finally be free andlivewith you. I want to… get married.”
His lips quirk into this tiny, fully adorable grin that’s contagious. I find myself grinning too, at the idea of us having a life together. Of attaching myself to this beguiling man; the first person I’ve ever loved.
Putting my ring and last name on him.
He’s right. We have to end this.It’s the only way.
“I want all those things too, baby monster,” I croon, and he chuckles. Cupping his jaw, I brush my thumb over his lower lip before leaning in to kiss it gently. “I don’t want you getting hurt… But I trust you with my life, which means I trust you with your own.”
Turning over my shoulder, I check on my patients. Byron looks up from where he’s helping Trevel, giving us a questioning head-tilt. I simply nod, to which he smirks.
Returning to Felix for one last kiss, I whisper onto his mouth. “Give ‘em hell, sick boy.”
“I always do,” he hums, then winks.
Byron stalks up to Velle’s Harley, readying some supplies and artillery. Trevel is practically pouting, so I take over holding the towels on Benson’s arm, murmuring, “Go.”
“Thank you,” he breathes, rushing to Byron.
I can’t help chuckling. But it falls off fast when the reality of the situation comes racing back.
“I need extra hands,” I call to anyone who can help.
Carson and Luthor rush over, and I give them all jobs.
“Go. We got this,” Luthor says to a visibly distraught Hancock, who can’t stop watching the door, likely for Jasper, who’s out there with Peters.
He nods. “I’ll be back, Hot Rod,” he whispers to Benson, running fingers through the man’s damp hair before jogging away.
Benson’s pretty out of it, anyway. I put some diesel morphine in his drip.
I’m focused on what I’m doing, but I can’t stop glancing at where Felix and Byron are talking, devising a plan. And I’m just hoping witheverythingin me that it works.
That we can get through this. That I can keep these people alive.
That we can hold on.
