Agony tears through my torso and radiates in every direction. I never gave much thought to how it would feel to be shot, but I never thought anything could hurt like this. It’s like the bullet still travels through me, ripping through flesh and muscles and organs as it forces its way through them.
“I’m going to get you out of here, Snowflake,” Elijah murmurs, his eyes sweeping over me for what feels like the hundredth time. I think he’s checking over and over that I’m really hurt, like he thinks he can pinch himself and wake up from this nightmare. Believe me, if that was an option, I would have already done it.
“There’s an ambulance waiting out the front,” Everett says as he approaches us, his brows knitted together as he takes in the sight.
“We can’t take her to a hospital,” Elijah snaps. “That’s exactly what they’ll expect us to do and there are too many things that can go wrong, too much time, I won’t be able to be with her.”
Storm sighs and rubs his hand over his face, wiping away some of the dust and debris that had settled on his skin. “I know, but we don’t have much choice. Doc doesn’t have the facilities for the level of care she needs, and I’m not willing to risk my sister’s life because we were too stubborn to take her to a real hospital.” His words are calm, but just beneath the surface is seething anger. When you grow up as close as we did, you get to know the tiny tells you each give off.
“Absolutely not.” Elijah tightens his grip on me, and I hiss out in pain. It’s not him, not really, my entire body hurts. Every inch of my skin is in agony, my insides are on fire, and every breath is like a searing hot poker is being driven through my lungs. The sound of my exhale gets his attention and guilt flashes through the green of his eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Snow.”
“It’s okay,” I wheeze.
“She needs a hospital, Elijah.” Everett approaches us carefully, as if he’s approaching a wild animal. “I’ve already called ahead, and I’ve already arranged for an entire floor to be vacated, I’ve called in every security company in the city for every spare guard, and I’ve paid off the doctors and nurses to allow one of us to be present for all treatment, including surgery if she needs it. She’s going to be in good hands, but we need to get her there as soon as possible to make sure the bullet doesn’t do any extra damage.”
Elijah considers him for a moment before turning his attention back to me. “I’m going to make it better, Snow. I promise I’ll make it better.” The conviction in his voice is so deep, so sure of his words, and I can’t help but believe him. “Every single person involved in what happened today will lose their life for hurting you, and when I find their leader, I’ll bring you their heart as a trophy.”
A tear slips down my cheek. I hate that he’s hurting. I hate that my pain is causing him pain. And I hate that we haven’t had the chance to tell each other how we really feel. Before I can respond, a wave of nausea hits me, and I pry myself from Elijah’s arms just enough to throw up beside us. The heaving causes heavy sobs to break through my chest and agony to shoot through my body. I’ve never known pain like this, and I hope I’ll never have to experience anything like this again.
“I’ve got you, Snow,” Elijah murmurs. “I’ve always got you.”
The next few minutes are a blur of movement and pain. Elijah cradles me against his chest as he walks us out of the destroyed church. I can’t allow myself to process the fact that this is where my parents were married, or the fact that my wedding day will always be associated with the day I was shot, or even that whoever is coming for us is clearly a lot more connected than we gave them credit for. We were cocky. We thought there was no way whoever this is could have more firepower than we have between us. But we were wrong. God, we were so wrong.
“Just place her down on the gurney,” the paramedic says, stopping it in front of Elijah.
“No,” he replies, quickly dodging it and striding toward the ambulance without missing a step.
“Uh, sir. You need to allow us to do our job.”
“And I will. But you’ll be doing it with my wife in my lap.” There’s no room for argument in Elijah’s tone, and he carefully steps up into the ambulance, barely jostling me in the process.
“That’s not… that’s…”
“That’s how it’s going to be.”
“Elijah,” I whisper. “Please let them do their job.”
His eyes meet mine and soften immediately. If I didn’t already know how deep his feelings for me run, this look is all I would need to tell me everything I need to know. When it comes to me, Elijah doesn’t care if the rest of the world sees he’s not the unfeeling monster he’s always portrayed himself to be. All he cares about is making sure I’m safe and happy. He gives me a small nod and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
The paramedic watches us for a moment before taking a breath. “What about if you sit on the gurney with her on your lap?” His eyes move down to where blood seeps through the lace of my dress, drenching the snowflakes in dark crimson. “Sir, have you been shot as well?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elijah rumbles. “All your focus needs to be on my wife. I’ll get seen to as soon as she’s okay.”
I sigh and close my eyes. The pain is excruciating, and the nausea continues to crash into me in waves. This isn’t how my wedding day should have been. I should have had my dad to walk me down the aisle, and my mom to give me some last-minute pieces of advice. I should have walked toward my almost-husband without a gun strapped to my thigh, and I should have married him without a gunfight breaking out in the church. I should have celebrated our union with our friends and family, and when that was done, I should have had Elijah take me home and ravish me through the night.
But all I’ve managed to get out of today is a new last name and a gunshot wound.
“Elijah,” I say quietly. “You need to let them look at you. At least to pack the wound so you don’t lose too much blood.”
“Fine, but not until you’re taken care of.”
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes the moment the doors slam shut and Elijah settles us on the gurney. Everything hurts. My arms, my legs, my head. Every single inch of me aches like the bullet exploded inside me and pieces have spread throughout me. “Are Wynter and Emerson safe?” I ask quietly, afraid my voice will break under the weight of the emotions pressing down on my chest.
“Yes. Rayne was able to get them to safety before the back door was seized. They’re at his penthouse in the panic room until Rayne and Everett can return to them.”
I let out a breath, but instead of feeling relief, the confirmation is an invitation for the emotions to slam into me all at once. A heavy sob breaks through my chest, and I turn my face into Elijah’s chest, desperately seeking out his warmth. I’ve never needed another human being like I need him. Hell, I’ve never needed anything like I do Elijah. Not air or water or food. It’s like my heart doesn’t know how to beat without him anymore.
“I’ve got you, little Snowflake. Let it all out, give me all your pain,” Elijah murmurs into my ear.
The paramedic watches us with interest, but there’s fear in his eyes. He knows who we are, and even if some of the rumors about our families are true, he knows one wrong move could end badly for him. “I’m going to start a central line so I can administer some painkillers,” he explains, his eyes flicking between us to assess our reactions.
“Do whatever you need to do,” I tell him between sniffles. “And don’t worry about my husband. His bark is worse than his bite.” The joke falls flat and I find myself nestling farther into Elijah’s warmth.
“I like hearing that word on your lips, Snowflake.”
“What word?”
“Husband.”
