Rowan watched the exchange with a mixture of emotions. There was something about the way Amara spoke to Vaughn, the fierce protectiveness in her voice, that stirred something deep within him. He had always known she was strong, but seeing her like this, he felt calm.
The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing. Amara worked quickly, binding the wound as best as she could with the limited resources they had. Rowan gritted his teeth, enduring the pain in silence, but his eyes never left Amara’s face.
There was something he wanted to say, something that had been on the tip of his tongue since the moment he’d thrown himself in front of that bullet. But now wasn’t the time.
Once she was done, Amara leaned back, exhaling slowly. “We need to get you to a hospital,” she said, but Rowan shook his head.
“No hospitals. They’ll be watching for us there.”
Amara frowned, but she knew he was right. Whoever was after them would be monitoring all possible exits and safe havens. A hospital would be too obvious, too easy to track.
“Then what do we do?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration.
“We wait here until it’s safe to move,” Rowan replied, his voice firm despite the pain. “We have to be smart about this.”
Amara hated the idea of sitting still, of waiting while the danger loomed closer. But she knew Rowan was right. They had to be careful, had to think this through. For Vaughn’s sake, if nothing else.
As the night wore on, the adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind the raw reality of their situation. They were alone, hunted, with no clear way out. Amara’s mind raced with thoughts of who could be behind the attack, but no answers came. All she knew was that they had to stay strong, had to survive.
Rowan closed his eyes, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion. But even as he drifted off, his hand remained close to his gun, ready to defend Amara and Vaughn if it came to that.
Amara watched him for a long moment, her emotions a tangled mess. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask. But now wasn’t the time. They had to focus on survival, on keeping Vaughn safe. Everything else would have to wait.
She moved over to where Vaughn was sitting, pulling him close and wrapping her arms around him. He snuggled into her, his small body warm against hers, and for a moment, the fear receded, replaced by fierceness.
They would get through this. They had to.
As the night deepened, Amara kept watch, her mind alert and her senses sharp. The darkness pressed in around them, but she refused to let it win. They would survive.
As the night stretched on, the abandoned house grew colder, the walls seeming to close in on them with every passing hour.
Amara’s eyes burned with fatigue, but she refused to let herself rest.
Every creak, every rustle in the darkness outside, set her nerves on edge. The thought of Vaughn and Rowan, vulnerable in this abandoned building, kept her alert.
The small clock on the wall ticked past two in the morning, Amara fought the drowsiness creeping into her limbs, her hand resting on her gun, ready for anything.
The night was heavy, oppressive, and it felt as though something unseen was waiting, watching.
Then, the sound came.
The soft creak of a door opening, the whisper of movement outside.
Amara’s instincts flared, adrenaline flooding her system.
In an instant, she was on her feet, her gun raised, every muscle in her body coiled and ready to strike. She moved swiftly, placing Vaughn beside the still-slumbering Rowan before silently making her way toward the door, her footsteps ghost-like on the worn floor tiles.
The darkness was thick, but her eyes had adjusted, and she could make out shapes moving in the shadows.
Her finger hovered over the trigger, prepared to defend them at any cost. But just as she was about to pull the trigger, her eyes focused on the faces of the newcomers.
Recognition flickered in her mind, and she quickly lowered her gun.
“Amara,” Harvey’s voice was a quiet murmur, laden with concern. “Are you okay? Where is brother?”
Amara nodded toward Rowan, her voice too heavy with exhaustion to speak. Harvey followed her gaze, relief mingling with the tension in his eyes. Without wasting another moment, he moved further into the room, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he went.
Kyle, who had entered with Harvey, was already beside Rowan, dropping his bag to the floor with a soft thud. The commotion stirred Vaughn, who blinked awake, his wide eyes quickly finding Amara. Rowan too awoke, his sharp gaze immediately assessing the situation.
“How is the situation?” Rowan’s voice was raspy, but there was a commanding edge to it, even in his weakened state.
“All dead,” Harvey replied, his tone grim but resolute.
“Good,” Rowan muttered, his voice carrying a weight of finality.
Kyle was already kneeling beside Rowan, his hands steady as he began to unpack his medical supplies. “Boss, I need to take the bullet out,” he said as he prepared for the procedure.
“Do it,” Rowan commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
As Kyle began to work, his gaze briefly flickered to Vaughn, who was watching the scene with wide, curious eyes. The resemblance between the boy and Rowan was uncanny, their features mirroring each other in a way that was impossible to ignore. But Kyle shook his head slightly, dismissing the thought as absurd. It couldn’t be possible. He must be overthinking things, caught up in the tension of the night.
Rowan caught Kyle’s glance, then looked at Vaughn and back at Amara, who was standing nearby, her eyes dark with worry. “Crimson,” Rowan’s voice was soft, almost tender, as he addressed her.
Amara understood immediately. She moved to Vaughn, lifting him into her arms. “Let’s go outside for a bit, baby,” she whispered, her voice gentle yet firm.
Vaughn nodded, sensing the seriousness of the situation. His small arms wrapped around her neck as she carried him out of the room. Rowan watched them go, a strange look passing over his face.
Once they were outside, Harvey followed, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. The night air was cold, biting against their skin, but Amara barely noticed. Her thoughts were consumed by what was happening inside.
Rowan lay back on the makeshift bed, his face pale but composed. Kyle worked quickly, his hands moving with practiced precision as he prepared to remove the bullet lodged deep in Rowan’s shoulder. The room was silent, the tension thick as Kyle made the first incision.
“How bad is it?” Rowan asked, his voice steady despite the pain.