As Amara took the wheel, her hands were steady, her focus sharp, but the darkness that surrounded them seemed to press in, as if the night itself were conspiring against them. She glanced at Rowan, unable to ignore the blood seeping through his shirt.
He seemed determined to disregard it, but the sight of it gnawed at her insides. T
he man who had thrown himself in front of a bullet for her and Vaughn was now bleeding out beside her, and yet he hadn’t uttered a single complaint.
“Let’s go back to the hotel now,” Amara suggested, her voice low, tinged with a concern she couldn’t quite mask.
Rowan shook his head, his eyes hard as he kept scanning the road ahead. “Not safe.”
Amara frowned. “But the security…”
She trailed off as realization dawned on her. Most of the guards had left today, reassigned or pulled away for other duties. Only Lucas remained, along with Nick, but that wasn’t nearly enough. They were exposed, vulnerable.
“Then where?” she asked, her voice more urgent now, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
Rowan’s gaze flickered toward her, his expression unreadable. “Just keep going. Take a right turn at the next cut, then a left after that.”
Amara nodded, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Okay.”
She focused on driving, the streetlights casting glow across the windshield as they sped through the city. The silence in the car was thick, broken only by the sound of the tires against the asphalt and the distant wail of sirens in the night.
Amara’s mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last. Whoever had attacked them wasn’t finished, and they needed to get to safety before the next assault.
Rowan shifted slightly in his seat, a low grunt of pain escaping his lips despite his efforts to suppress it. His body was taut with tension, every movement calculated to minimize the pain, but it was clear he was struggling.
Suddenly, Amara noticed a small movement in the corner of her eye. Vaughn, who had been silent in the back seat, leaned forward, his small hands clutching something. Before Amara could react, Vaughn reached out and gently placed a handkerchief on Rowan’s shoulder, directly over the wound.
Rowan turned his head slowly, his expression one of surprise mixed with something deeper, something Rowan couldn’t quite place.
Vaughn’s innocent gesture seemed to catch Rowan off guard.
Rowan’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the hardness in his eyes melted away. He looked at Vaughn with complicated emotions in his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.
Vaughn nodded solemnly, his eyes wide and serious, as if he understood the gravity of the situation far better than any child his age should.
Amara’s heart clenched at the sight. She couldn’t afford to be emotional right now, but seeing Vaughn interact with Rowan like that, seeing the way Rowan responded… it stirred something inside her.
She had to focus, had to keep them safe, but the emotions swirling within her were becoming harder to ignore.
They continued driving, the streets narrowing as they left the more populated areas behind. The buildings became sparser, the roads darker. Rowan’s directions led them into a part of the city Amara was unfamiliar with, a maze of backstreets and alleys that twisted and turned in confusing patterns.
“Where are we going?” Amara asked, her voice tense.
“Somewhere they won’t expect,” Rowan replied, his tone clipped. He was losing blood, and she could see the strain in his posture, but his resolve was unshaken.
Amara followed his instructions, navigating the labyrinthine streets until they finally reached a secluded area, far from the main roads. Rowan motioned for her to pull over near a small, nondescript building with no signs or markings. It looked abandoned, but Rowan’s certainty suggested otherwise.
“Here,” he said, his voice softer now, fatigue creeping in.
Amara parked the car and turned off the engine. The sudden silence was deafening. She turned to Rowan, who was already reaching for the door handle.
“Stay here,” Rowan instructed, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll check it out first.”
“No,” Amara said firmly, her hand on his arm stopping him. “You’re hurt. Let me.”
Rowan’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the tension between them palpable. But then he relented, nodding slightly.
Amara stepped out of the car, her senses on high alert. The night air was cold, the shadows deep, but she moved with purpose, her gun drawn as she approached the building. The door creaked as she pushed it open, the interior dark and musty. She scanned the room, her training kicking in as she checked for any signs of danger.
It was empty.
She quickly returned to the car, opening the passenger door for Rowan. “It’s clear. Let’s get you inside.”
Rowan nodded, too drained to argue. As he stepped out of the car, he swayed slightly, but Amara was there to steady him. Vaughn watched from the back seat, his eyes wide with worry, but he stayed silent, sensing the gravity of the situation.
They moved into the building, the door closing behind them with a dull thud. The inside was sparse, just a few pieces of old furniture and a layer of dust that suggested it hadn’t been used in a while. Rowan collapsed onto a worn-out couch, his breathing labored as he leaned back, trying to fight off the pain.
Amara crouched beside him, her hands gentle but firm as she inspected the wound. “You need to get this treated,” she said, her voice laced with concern.
Rowan shook his head. “It’s fine.”
“You’re in no condition to do anything until we stop the bleeding,” Amara countered, her tone leaving no room for debate. She quickly tore a piece of fabric from her shirt and pressed it against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
Rowan winced but didn’t protest. He knew she was right, but the frustration in his eyes was clear. He hated feeling helpless, hated that he was the one slowing them down.
As Amara worked, Vaughn moved closer, his small hands hovering uncertainly. “Mommy, will Uncle Rowan be okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Amara forced a reassuring smile, though her heart was heavy. “Yes, baby. He’ll be okay. We just need to take care of him.”