Chapter 15 - The Fire on the Ice
The sound of gunfire outside the car was deafening.
Thick white smoke billowed through the shattered door frame, carrying the acrid stench of burned powder and burning rubber. I stayed pressed against the floor of the Maybach, my hands clamped over my ears, praying like I hadn't prayed since my father was dying in the ICU.
*Eli.*
*My baby is safe at the estate. He’s with Mrs. Gable.*
*Gabriel. Please, God, let Gabriel survive.*
I heard Gabriel’s voice cutting through the gunfire—not shouting, but issuing sharp, tactical commands to Sam.
Three sharp shots. A scream. The heavy thud of a body hitting the icy bridge deck.
Then, the sudden, terrifying sound of a grenade bouncing across the asphalt.
*Clink-clink-clink.*
“GRENADE!” Sam roared.
Before I could even comprehend the word, Gabriel’s massive frame dove back through the open door of the Maybach, slamming his body entirely over mine on the floorboards.
*BOOM!*
The shockwave lifted the heavy sedan off its suspension. The rear windows blew inward, showering Gabriel’s back with fragments of reinforced safety glass.
Gabriel grunted—a deep, agonizing sound torn from his throat—but his arms remained locked around me like bands of steel. He didn't budge an inch. He took the entire brunt of the concussive force and the falling debris.
Silence descended over the bridge, save for the crackling of burning metal and the whistling of the winter wind off the river.
“Gabriel...” I sobbed, my hands moving across his broad shoulders, feeling the torn cashmere of his overcoat. My fingers came away hot and wet.
Blood.
“Gabriel! You’re hit!”
He coughed, spitting blood onto the carpet, but his eyes opened. They were dazed, clouded with pain, but the second they focused on my face, the panic in them vanished.
“Are you... cut?” he gasped, his voice ragged.
“No! No, I’m fine! You’re bleeding, Gabriel!”
“Just... shrapnel,” he wheezed, pushing himself up with sheer, terrifying willpower. “Sam!”
“Still here, boss!” Sam called out from outside. “The smoke cleared them! Two backup squads from the Loop are pulling up now! The bridge is secure!”
Siren wails began to echo from both sides of the river—not the police, but the private emergency convoy of the Hart security division.
Four black Escalades screeched onto the bridge, men in tactical gear swarming the perimeter, securing the area with ruthless efficiency.
Gabriel collapsed against the leather seat, his face pale as paper, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The back of his tuxedo jacket was soaked in dark, spreading crimson.
I scrambled up beside him, tearing off the emerald velvet sleeves of my gown with frantic, desperate strength, pressing the thick fabric against the wound beneath his shoulder blade to staunch the bleeding.
“Stay with me,” I pleaded, tears finally spilling over my lashes and tracing hot paths down my cheeks. “Don't you dare close your eyes, Gabriel Hart! Look at me!”
Gabriel turned his head weakly. A faint, bloody smile touched his lips as his cold fingers reached up, weakly curling around my wrist where I pressed the velvet against his back.
“You’re... ruining... your dress, Clara,” he whispered.
“Shut up,” I sobbed, pressing harder against the wound. “Just shut up and stay alive.”
His eyes held mine, dark and fierce despite the creeping unconsciousness.
“They’re going... to pay for this,” he breathed.
May you like
And then, his head fell back against the headrest, and his eyes slid shut.
***