OLIVIA’S POV
:
<b>90 </b>
55 vouchers.
The loud gunshot echoed through the whole room, sharp and deafening, bouncing off the walls like thunder in a storm. My ears rang as silence followed, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that came with peace, it was the heavy, dreadful kind that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe.
Hold on.
Am I not supposed to be dead by now?
My mind raced in those stretched–out seconds, every thought tumbling over the next in panic. Or maybe I am dead and just don’t know it yet. But no…that couldn’t be right. I was still breathing, still aware, my chest rising and falling with a frantic rhythm. And strangely, I didn’t feel any pain. No searing burn, no cold numbness, nothing stabbing into my body.
My arms were still wrapped tightly around Charlie, shielding him. If I wasn’t hurt, then… What about him? A sick rush of fear shot through me. But no he wasn’t hit either. I would’ve felt it, I would’ve known. He was trembling, clutching at my shirt, but he was whole.
So how?
—
I was sure I heard the trigger pull. I was sure that bullet had been fired. Even the hostages had cried out in shock, the sound of their screams filling the air. That gunshot hadn’t been a bluff. Someone had been shot.
My breath caught as I forced my eyes open. Slowly, carefully, I looked around.
And that’s when my heart dropped.
Adrian.
He was on the ground in front of me, his body twisted slightly, blood already staining the floor beneath him. The sight hit me so hard it nearly knocked the air from my lungs. I hadn’t felt this kind of gut–wrenching panic in years.
“Adrian!”
The shrill scream ripped through the tension. Isadora. She stumbled out from behind, her voice raw, her face pale as she rushed forward. She fell to her knees beside him, hands trembling as they reached for his face.
“No, no, no…” My mouth fell open, words sticking to my throat. I could only stare, frozen in disbelief. Did he really… Did he really just take that bullet for me?
“Fuck!” the leader shouted, frustration cracking in his voice. His hand tightened around the gun, eyes darting as if the situation had spun out of his control.
But I barely heard him. My attention was glued to Adrian. His breathing was ragged, groans slipping past his lips as he struggled against the pain.
“Stay with me you’re going to be okay, alright?” Isadora’s voice wavered, desperate, as she cupped his face
<b>9:16 </b>Mon, Sep 8 B…
<b>90 </b>
55 vouchers
with both hands, tears pooling in her eyes. Her fingers brushed across his cheeks gently, like her touch alone could anchor him here, keep him from slipping away.
But she wasn’t doing anything else. She wasn’t stopping the bleeding. She wasn’t even looking at the wound.
I snapped out of it just enough to notice where the bullet hadnded. His ribs. Thank God – it wasn’t near his heart or stomach. Not instantly fatal. Not yet. That was good news. That meant there was a chance, a real chance, if we moved fast.
All we needed to do was stop the bleeding and get him to a hospital. But time was against us. Every drop of blood seeping through his shirt was a second stolen from him.
I turned back quickly. Charlie was staring wide–eyed, his little chest rising and falling <i>too </i>fast. His lip trembled but he stayed quiet, brave in the way only a child could be when the world demanded it.
“Stay right here, okay?” I told him firmly, my voice softer for his sake.
He nodded, clutching his knees.
Without wasting another second, I crawled over beside Adrian. My knees scraped against the cold floor, but I barely noticed. My hands moved on their own, trembling yet determined, and I pressed them firmly against the wound.
The moment I did, Adrian let out a raw, guttural scream.
“AAAHHH!”
The sound cut through me like another bullet, but I didn’t dare let go.
“What are you doing to him now?” Isadora asked, tears already running down her face. She was always dramatic, always the kind of person who let her emotions spiral out of control until they clouded her judgment. Her hands trembled helplessly, clutching at her dress like she didn’t even know what to do with them. The panic in her eyes made it clear she couldn’t handle this situation, not even a little.
“He’s bleeding out,” I snapped, pressing down harder on Adrian’s wound. My palms were slick with his blood, warm and thick, the metallic smell choking the air around us. “We need to put pressure on it to slow the bleeding.”
I pressed harder, praying silently that my grip, my desperate attempts, would be enough to keep him tethered to life. Every second mattered, but my chest tightened with dread because I knew deep down that just stopping the bleeding wasn’t going to save him. At best, it was a temporary bandage on a wound that required urgent medical care. We needed to get him to a hospital. We needed doctors, stitches, and machines.
But how were we supposed to do that with these men surrounding us like vultures waiting for their prey to stop breathing? My heart pounded against my ribs as I nced up at the group. Their shadows stretched long against the walls, their weapons glinting under the light. Each second they stood there felt like a noose tightening around my throat.
The leader’s cold voice sliced through the silence. “I’m starting to see you as an annoying cockroach that just won’t die.” His voice filled with pure frustration, and then, as if he was determined to prove how serious he was, he raised his gun again and just like before, he aimed it directly at me.
9:16 Mon, Sep 8 B..
<b>90 </b>
EX 65 vouchers
For a moment, everything froze. My breath caught. My fingers dug deeper into Adrian’s wound as though my own body could protect him by sheer willpower. The world shrank down to the muzzle of that gun, the ck hole at the center of it threatening to swallow me whole.
“Stop.”
The word came out hoarse, weak, but it carried enough weight to make the leader pause. My eyes darted down to Adrian. Even in his condition, with blood soaking his clothes and pain etched across his face, he had forced the word out. His voice was shaky, but the fire in his eyes was still there. Somehow, even on the brink of death, he was still trying to save me.
“Stop talking.” I whispered to him, my throat burning as I tried to keep my emotions in check. He didn’t need to waste his strength, not for me. I turned my gaze sharply back to the leader. “Didn’t you say you had orders not toy a finger on him? Now that you’ve broken those orders, aren’t you supposed to take him to a hospital?”
For a heartbeat, I thought maybe logic would work. Maybe he would realize how close Adrian was to dying and back down.
But the leader only sneered, his hand tightening on the trigger. “That can be arranged,” he said, his voice as casual as if he was talking about ordering dinner, “after you’re dead.”
My body went cold. I could hear my pulse in my ears, the thundering rush of blood that reminded me of the fear I had felt only moments ago. Adrian had saved mest time, pulling me back from the edge when I thought my life was over. But this time? This time, I knew it was different. His strength was fading. He wasn’t going to be able to shield me again.
So was this it? Was this the moment my story ended?
The leader’s finger curled tighter around the trigger, and every nerve in my body screamed at me to move, to fight, to do something. But I was frozen, caught between life and death, my hope slipping away with every breath Adrian struggled to take.
And then-
From nowhere, the sharp crash of shattering ss filled the room. Something broke through the window, spraying shards of ss across the floor, sparkling like deadly diamonds in the dim light.
Every head turned. Every weapon shifted. For the first time in what felt like forever, the leader’s attention
wasn’t on me.
Something had just arrived that none of us had expected.
9:16 Mon, Sep 8 D