Page 93 of Ruined

I don't care. I don't care about Ivan or revenge or anything else. I'm already scrambling across the floor to Noah, my knees scraping against concrete.

"Noah. Noah, please." My hands hover over his body, afraid to touch him, afraid to make it worse. The blood is everywhere, soaking through his shirt, making it impossible to see where he's been hit.

I press my hands against his chest, trying to find the source, trying to stop the bleeding. His blood is warm and slick between my fingers. "Noah, look at me. Open your eyes."

But he doesn't respond. His face is slack, eyes closed. The man who always seemed indestructible now looks fragile under my trembling hands.

"He needs a hospital. Now." Matteo's voice comes from somewhere above me but it sounds distant, underwater.

"Is Jessica safe? Did you get her out?" I ask, not taking my eyes off Noah's face.

"She's with Alessio. They're already heading to the car."

I nod, my tears falling onto Noah's chest. "Don't you dare die on me," I whisper with a ferocity I could not have planned, leaning close to his ear. "Not after everything."

Matteo is pulling at my arm. "We need to move him. Evelyn, we need to go."

I can't let go. My hands are still pressed against Noah's wound, staunching the blood flow, as if I'm the only thing keeping his life from slipping away.

I can't move. I can't breathe. My hands are still pressed against Noah's chest, his blood squelching warm between my fingers. Everything feels distant, like I'm watching myself from outside my body.

Suddenly Noah's weight disappears from beneath my hands as Matteo lifts him with a grunt. Noah's head lolls back, lifeless. My hands hang suspended in the air, stained crimson.

I should follow. I know I should follow but my legs won't work.

"Evelyn, move!" Matteo shouts, already heading for the door with Noah in his arms.

My body responds on autopilot. I'm walking, stumbling really, behind Matteo through gray stone corridors. The walls seem to pulse and contract around me. Is this what drowning feels like? I can't pull enough air into my lungs.

Black spots dance across my vision. The corridor stretches impossibly long. Noah's blood is drying on my hands, turning sticky and dark.

"Breathe." A firm voice cuts through the fog. Strong hands grip my shoulders, steadying me.

I blink, focusing on the face in front of me. Not Matteo. Another man—Alessio. I recognize him from the Feretti mansion.

"Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth," he instructs, his eyes locked on mine. "That's it."

I hadn't realized I was hyperventilating until he pointed it out. I try to follow his instructions but my chest feels too tight.

"Jessica—" I manage to gasp.

"She's safe. Already in the car. But we need to move."

He keeps one hand firmly on my shoulder as we walk, faster now. The world slowly comes back into focus when fresh air hits my face. We've reached outside. The night air fills my lungs, cold and sharp, cutting through the fog in my brain.

"He's going to die," I say, the reality of it shattering me.

"Not if we get him to the hospital on time," Alessio says, guiding me toward a black SUV where Matteo is loading Noah into the backseat.

I don't remember getting into the car. One moment I'm outside the townhouse with Alessio's hand on my shoulder and the next I'm sitting in the backseat of an SUV, my blood-stained hands trembling in my lap.

But then I see her.

"Jessica!"

My sister's tear-streaked face comes into focus across from me.

"Evie!" Jessica throws herself at me, her arms wrapping around my neck so tightly I can barely gasp. But I don't care. I hug her back just as fiercely, burying my face in her hair that smells of sweat and fear but still somehow like home.

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