Ollie blows out a breath and nods. “Good, and I’m not—” She cuts off to cough with a wince. “I’m not that bad. Just sore.”
The three of us exchange sceptical looks but don’t say anything. As much as I’d love to baby her and carry her to the medical centre, we’restill in the middle of a war and there are enemies who need to be taken care of.
As if reading my mind, Ollie pulls her hand from Alex’s grip and, with her palms planted on the ground, shoves herself upright. “We should get moving and make the most of the gangs losing their leadership,” she says, her voice tight with pain. Theo and I scramble to support her back as she sways while Alex shifts to support her head and neck with a large hand.
“We will, but you’re in no shape to move yet,” I tell her with a frown.
She waves me off. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
Theo makes a noise in the back of his throat and glares at her. “If you think you’re going back to fighting after all this, you’re sorely mistaken. Your body is still recovering from you almost beingchoked to death.” He pauses to grind his teeth together at that statement. “You need more than a minute.”
Alex grunts in agreement, his hand tightening on the back of her head. Apparently, all three of us are on the same page.
Ollie huffs, then winces when the movement jars her bruised neck. Her eyes—still hazy from pain—flick between the three of us before moving to where Luke’s body lies. Her gaze lingers on him, and the blood drains from her face when she sees the state he’s in.
It’s… not a pleasant sight.
She swallows hard, averts her eyes, and tenses in our hold. “You’re right.” She sounds so defeated and hollow, almost like she did when she realised she’d killed that man to save my life.
I hate it.
I glance up at my friends and see the same grim understanding on their faces that I have. In the distance, the battle rages on. People shout and scream alongside the cracking of gunshots, unaware that the leaders of the gangs are either dead or unconscious. We should move towards them, to put a stop to the fighting, but none of us move.
At this moment, Ollie is more important.
There’s no way I’m letting her feel guilty or horrified over what she did to that psychopathic bastard to survive. He deserved to die, and the savage part of me is glad that she made him suffer.
Theo is the one who comes to the rescue, as usual. “Can you repeat that, please?” he asks, leaning closer to her while cupping the side of his ear as if he’s trying to hear her better. “I think I misunderstood what you just said because it sounds like you just admitted that I was right.”
She glares daggers at him, some of the desolation gone from her expression. “Fuck off, Theo. You heard me just fine.”
He chuckles, but the sound is strained. “I know, but I want to savour you saying I’m right. Who knows when I’ll get the chance again.”
Ollie shakes her head and huffs out a small, fragile laugh. Alex breathes out a small sigh of relief beside me, a sound I echo. Her eyes are still haunted, and there’s an invisible weight on her shoulders, but I’ll take any ounce of joy we can get from her.
“Come on, princess. Let’s get you standing.” I shift until I’m crouched behind her, supporting her back while Theo and Alex move to her sides. Together, we help her stand.
Ollie curses as her trembling legs try to buckle beneath her, and she sways, but we keep her steady.
“This is worse than a hangover,” she mutters, her knuckles white as she holds onto Theo and Alex for dear life.
None of us release her until she’s stable and stopped swaying. Even then we hover, none of us wanting to go far, just in case.
Ollie sees this and waves us off. “I’m fine. The world has stopped spinning.”
Reluctantly, I step back from her and glance around, noting that Tobias and Rachel have drifted closer. Tobias still holds onto Harlow, the dog whimpering quietly and straining to go to her owner, while his other hand is clamped on top of a fluttering Ketchup on his shoulder. Anthony and Colin have moved over to where Elsa and Mark are. Colinhas his foot on Mark’s prone body with a look of pure hatred in his eyes while Anthony guards Elsa with a stony expression.
“Are you alright, Liv?” Tobias asks, his voice tight with worry as his eyes zero in on the bruises around her neck.
Ollie turns to her brother and nods. “Yeah, just a little sore. Nothing that some painkillers and rest won’t fix. Are you?” Her eyes scan over him, looking for any kind of injury.
“I’m fine. Can I let Harlow and Ketchup go now? They’re desperate to make sure you’re okay.”
Harlow whines loudly and Ketchup squawks.
Ollie’s expression softens, and she gingerly crouches with her arms open. “Let them go.”
Tobias does, and the dog launches herself towards her owner with a high-pitched yelp while Ketchup flutters over to perch on her shoulder. Alex, Theo and I tense as Harlow nears her, all three of us preparing to catch Ollie if the dog pushes her over. But she eases up at the last second to stop in front of her owner, stubby tail wagging so hard her entire backside wiggles with it.
