Chapter 5 - The Longest Night“No. No, you don't!”
I dropped all my weight onto his chest, locking my elbows, and began rhythmic chest compressions, counting aloud in a frantic, desperate cadence. One, two, three, four... breathe, damn you!
The door burst open behind us. Leo rushed in, his gun raised, followed by two armed guards trailing smoke and blood. Leo took one look at Liam’s motionless body and cursed in Russian.
“Get me the emergency medical chest from the lower study!” I screamed at Leo without looking up, continuing the CPR compressions with every ounce of strength I had left. “His heart is fibrillating! I need the portable defibrillator and the IV epinephrine right now!”
Leo didn't waste a second. He dropped his weapon, sprinted out of the room, and returned ten seconds later carrying a heavy aluminum trauma case.
I tore open the case, ripped the pads off the automated defibrillator, and slapped them across Liam’s bare, blood-streaked chest.
“Analyzing rhythm,” the machine’s flat, automated voice chimed in the smoky silence of the bedroom. “Shock advised. Clear.”
“Get back!” I shouted, shoving Leo and the guards away.
I hit the orange discharge button.
Liam’s entire body jerked violently off the floor as a massive jolt of electricity surged through his heart.
For three terrifying seconds, the monitor flat-lined.
Then, with a sharp, ragged gasp that sounded like glass breaking, Liam’s back arched off the floor. A violent shudder wracked his frame, and air rushed back into his lungs in a ragged, coughing wheeze.
He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a glazed, uncomprehending stare before focusing hazily on my face hovering above him.
“...Damn it, nurse,” he croaked, his voice a dry rasp. “You’re entirely too loud.”
I collapsed backward onto the carpet, bursting into hysterical, tear-filled laughter as the sheer weight of terror finally broke over me.
By midnight, the storm outside had cleared, leaving behind a cold, crystalline silence that blanketed the estate.
The dead tactical operatives had been quietly cleared away by Leo’s men, the shattered door had been temporarily boarded up with heavy plywood, and Liam lay stable in a freshly made bed, his IV fluids dripping steadily into his arm.
I sat in the armchair beside him, nursing a cold cup of black coffee, my hands still trembling slightly as I updated his vital charts by the dim light of a single bedside lamp.
Liam watched me from the pillows, his blue eyes clear and steady. The fever had finally broken.
“You saved my life,” he said quietly.
“I saved my paycheck,” I retorted without looking up from my clipboard, though the sarcastic edge in my voice was entirely ruined by the exhaustion cracking my tone.
Liam was silent for a long moment. He shifted slightly, wincing as the movement pulled at his stitches, then reached out, his warm fingers gently closing over the back of my hand where it rested on the arm of the chair.
His touch sent a strange, unexpected current shooting up my arm. I looked up, meeting his gaze.
“Thomas is going to be fine,” Liam said softly. “Dr. Harrison called my satellite phone an hour ago. The initial bone marrow harvest was successful. The treatment is taking.”
My throat tightened, a fresh wave of hot tears spilling over my lashes. I didn't pull my hand away from his.
“Thank you,” I whispered, the words carrying the full weight of a mountain lifting off my chest.
“Don't thank me yet,” Liam murmured, a faint, weary shadow of a smile touching his lips. “Vance won't stop with one attack. He knows I’m compromised. Once I heal, I have to finish this war, Clara. And I need to know you’ll still be here when the dust settles.”
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I looked into his eyes—eyes that had seen too much blood, too much betrayal, and too much darkness—and realized with sudden, terrifying clarity that the monster everyone feared in Chicago was the only person in the world who had truly seen me fight for mine.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mercer,” I said softly. “At least, not until Friday.”
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