Kyle didn’t look up, his focus entirely on the task at hand. “It’s deep, but you’re lucky. It missed any major arteries. You’ll be fine, boss.”
Rowan grunted in response, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he forced himself to remain still. The pain was sharp, a burning sensation that radiated from the wound with every movement. But he refused to let it show. Not in front of his men.
Kyle continued his work, the room filled with the soft sounds of his tools and Rowan’s controlled breathing. He removed the bullet with careful precision, the metal clinking against the tray as he set it aside.
Blood welled up, dark and ominous, but Kyle was ready, quickly suturing the wound with deft hands.
Rowan’s thoughts, however, were far from the physical pain. He couldn’t shake the image of Vaughn’s small, worried face, the way the boy had instinctively tried to help him. The thought stirred something deep within him, something he wasn’t sure how to process. But now wasn’t the time for introspection. He had to stay focused.
“How’s the arm?” Kyle asked, his tone almost conversational as he moved to the next injury.
“Could be worse,” Rowan replied through gritted teeth as Kyle began to treat the wound on his arm. The pain was sharper here, but Rowan remained stoic, his mind drifting back to Amara and Vaughn outside.
“Miss Amara’s strong,” Kyle commented, as if reading Rowan’s thoughts. “She’s holding it together.”
“She’s always been strong,” Rowan replied, a hint of something softer in his voice. “But this… this is more than she should have to handle.”
Kyle nodded, understanding the unspoken sentiment. “We’ll get through this, boss. We’ve faced worse.”
Rowan didn’t respond immediately, his mind too occupied with thoughts of what was to come. The enemies they had just defeated were part of a larger threat, one that was closing in on them with every passing moment.
Once Kyle finished, he carefully bandaged Rowan’s wounds, his movements efficient but gentle. “You need rest Boss,” Kyle said, packing away his supplies. “You’re no good to anyone if you push yourself too hard.”
Rowan let out a bitter laugh, wincing slightly at the pain it caused. “Rest? Not likely, Kyle. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Maybe not,” Kyle agreed, his tone sober. “But you won’t do Amara or Vaughn any good if you collapse.”
Rowan sighed, knowing Kyle was right but unwilling to admit it. “I’ll rest when we’re safe. Not before.”
Kyle didn’t push further, knowing that Rowan’s stubbornness was as much a part of him as his strength. “I’ll go check on Miss Amara and Vaughn,” he said, standing up and heading for the door.
Rowan nodded, his thoughts already shifting to the next steps, the next move in this deadly game they were caught in. But as the door closed behind Kyle, Rowan allowed himself a brief moment of vulnerability, his hand drifting to the fresh bandages on his shoulder.
The night was far from over, and he knew that the real battle had yet to begin. But no matter what came next, he was determined to protect them… Amara, Vaughn, and even himself, though he cared less about the latter. They were his responsibility now, whether he liked it or not.
Outside, Amara stood with Vaughn in her arms, Harvey nearby keeping watch. The cold air helped to clear her mind, but her thoughts were still a tangled mess of worry, fear, and something else.. something she wasn’t ready to name..
When Kyle emerged, she looked at him, her eyes searching for any sign of how Rowan was doing. “He’s stable,” Kyle assured her, though his face was etched with concern. “But we need to move soon. We can’t stay here much longer.”
Amara nodded, her grip on Vaughn tightening slightly. “Where will we go?”
Kyle glanced at Harvey, then back at Amara. “We’ll figure it out. For now, just be ready to move.”
As the night deepened, the weight of their situation settled heavily on them all. The darkness around them felt more oppressive than ever, but Amara refused to let it consume her. They would survive this, she vowed..
And as she stood there, cradling Vaughn and watching the horizon for any sign of the approaching dawn, she couldn’t help but think of Rowan inside, fighting his own battles. He had protected Vaughn and she was grateful to him.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Alessandro finally returned to the hotel, his face drawn with worry and exhaustion. The night had been long and fruitless.
He had scoured the streets, called in favors, and searched every place he could think of, but Amara and Vaughn were nowhere to be found.
As soon as he entered the hotel lobby, Alessandro pulled out his phone and dialed Amara’s number once more. The line rang, each tone echoing like a hammer against his nerves. But once again, there was no answer. He clenched his jaw, a mix of fear and anger swirling in his chest. Where could she be? Why wasn’t she answering?
His mind raced with dark possibilities, each more horrifying than the last. He had tried to protect her, to keep her and Vaughn safe, but now they had vanished, leaving him with nothing but his own mounting panic.
Alessandro paced the lobby, his phone gripped tightly in his hand, the screen still glowing with Amara’s name.
His thoughts spiraled further into chaos as he tried to think of where she might have gone. Was she hurt? Was Vaughn safe? Every scenario that played out in his mind led to a dead end, a blank space filled with fear and uncertainty.
Amara woke up abruptly at ten in the morning, the remnants of exhaustion clinging to her body, but her mind immediately focused on one thing: Vaughn. She reached out instinctively to the spot beside her, expecting to feel the warmth of her son, but instead, her hand met only the cool, empty surface of the makeshift bed.
Panic surged through her, gripping her chest in a vice-like hold. She bolted upright, her heart racing as her eyes darted around the dimly lit room. Where was Vaughn? A thousand terrifying possibilities flooded her mind, each more horrible than the last. Was he taken? Did something happen to him while she slept?
Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as she hurriedly scanned the room, her senses sharpening with the fear that something was terribly wrong. The dark corners of the room seemed to close in on her as she frantically searched for any sign of her son.
But then, just as she was about to scream his name in desperation, she caught sight of a small figure curled up on the couch across the room. Her breath hitched as she moved closer, her steps tentative, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that it drowned out all other sounds.