Page 39 of Oliver

Behind us, the door slammed open again. Faron burst through it with blood on his sleeve.

“He’s down,” Faron said breathlessly.

An SUV screeched to a stop across the alley, and more of the team poured out—weapons drawn, checking rooftops and corners. It was a full sweep. Controlled. Professional. Fast.

But I didn’t care about any of it.

All I cared about was Oliver’s arms around me and the way he was breathing like I’d just come back from the dead.

“I should’ve gotten to you sooner,” he said, his voice breaking. “I knew something was wrong the second they found that body in your room. We were already on our way before they called me.”

“You were right on time,” I whispered.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, scanning every bruise, every scrape, every tear in my clothes. “Did he hurt you?”

“I hit him with a cup of beer,” I said with a faint smile. My head's sore where he knocked me out, but I’ll be fine.

His eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Where did you get the beer?”

“Nope, I’m not kidding. He gave me a plastic cup of cold beer. I took him by surprise.” I winced. “Then he tackled me into a table, so… we’re even.”

He let out a shaky laugh and kissed my forehead. “You are the most badass woman I’ve ever met.”

I gripped his shirt like a lifeline. “Don’t let go of me.”

“Never,” he whispered. “Not again.”

River approached, voice calm but firm. “We need to move. EMS is en route, but we can’t stay here,” he said.

“I’m not getting in a different car,” I said.

Oliver didn’t argue. He swept me up into his arms like I weighed nothing.

“Fine by me.”

He carried me to the SUV, climbed into the backseat with me still in his lap, and shut the door. River slid into the front seat and started barking orders over the radio.

I curled into Oliver’s chest, my fingers twisted in his shirt, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Safe. Alive. Free.

“I’m never leaving you again,” I murmured.

“I’ll chain you to me if I have to,” he said, his voice low, fierce. “But you’re not going anywhere if I’m not there.”

I didn’t argue.

Not this time.

23

Emery

It had been three days since they rescued me.

Three days of soft blankets, warm meals, and the steady hum of Oliver’s voice keeping the nightmares away.

I hadn’t returned to Colorado.

Not yet.

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