Page 128 of Wilde and Deadly

Still crouched beside Liam, still holding his shoulder like an anchor.

Still too still.

Bridger thrived in high-stress situations. He didn’t panic. Didn’t break…. but the tremble in his hand betrayed him. He was feeling the stress now.

They all were.

Still, his voice was even when he said, “You’re always turning the damn thing off anyway. Thought you liked silence.”

Liam’s mouth pulled into something that might have been a smirk if he weren’t so pale. “Not when it’s permanent. If I die, there’s nothing after. Just… eternity in silence.”

That wasn’t a joke.

Liam said it like he’d thought about it before. Maybe not exactly like this, not with a bomb strapped to his chest and minutes on the clock, but Davey knew the sound of someone trying to make peace with the inevitable.

For a beat, no one spoke.

Tessa went into medic mode. “Okay, well, you’re not going to die at all. Davey won’t let you.”

She meant it as reassurance, but something about it settled wrong in Davey’s chest.

Davey won’t let you.

As if it was that simple. As if he could just will this into not being a worst-case scenario.

As if someone hadn’t already died on his watch.

As if Elliot hadn’t nearly died two days ago.

He shoved the thought down. He could do this later—process it, feel it.

Right now, Weston needed light to do his job.

“Did anyone pack an NVG-friendly light?” He wished he’d thought of it, but he hadn’t expected to find Liam strapped to a fucking bomb.

Bridger finally moved, letting go of his brother long enough to reach into his pack. He pulled out a low-intensity red LED headlamp—dim enough to keep them from being blinded but enough for Weston to see the wiring clearly.

“West,” Davey said, forcing himself to stay level.

Weston didn’t look up. “Yeah, I know.”

Then, he got to work.

Tessa dropped her med kit and started digging through it. “Everyone except West needs to back up. Give Liam some breathing room.” She ducked so Liam could see her without turning his head. “I need to check your head wound. Is that okay? No, don’t nod.”

“Yeah. Hurts like a motherfucker.”

“I know.” She flicked on a penlight set to its dimmest setting, the small amber glow NVG-compatible to avoid blinding anyone. She tilted Liam’s head toward the meager beam, parting his blood-matted hair with careful fingers. The cut was ugly, skin split deep, already swelling.

“You’re concussed,” she said grimly, running the tiny beam over his pupils. “Slow dilation. Disorientation.”

She looked up at Davey. “I think he has a skull fracture. We need to get him to a hospital.”

Liam let out a breathy laugh. “Preferably before I blow up.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and ripped open a packet of gauze. “Preferably.”

Weston cursed softly, his fingers still working over the tangle of wires and triggers. “This setup is nasty.”

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