EVE's POV
I sat on the ambulance bumper, the cold metal seeping through my jeans. The medic spread ointment on my wrists and ankle, the minty scent a small comfort against the raw chafing from the wire. Chris took my hands, his thumbs tracing the angry red marks. He breathed warm air on my skin, a familiar gesture of tenderness.
"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice low. It was the same apology, repeated over and over, but each time, the sincerity in his eyes threatened to undo me. I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing his stubbled cheeks. He leaned into my touch, sighing wearily and stepped between my legs, a quiet claim, a closeness I craved.
I saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the lingering fear from what we'd endured. The guilt tugged at me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. He held me tight, a desperate embrace. He buried his face in the curve of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. I felt him tremble.
"It wasn't your fault, baby," I whispered. "It was Frederick's fault. Don't blame yourself." He nodded, a silent promise.
The moment hung in the air, a fragile peace. Then, the elevator doors opened with a groan, and Frederick was wheeled out. He was strapped to a gurney, an oxygen mask covering his face, the bandages on his thighs stained red.
The Captain announced they were taking Frederick to the hospital in the ambulance I was sitting on. I felt sick.
Chris gripped my hands tighter before turning, his body subtly shielding me from Frederick. He was still protecting me. The guilt twisted inside me.
"It's okay," I said, forcing a smile and touching his cheek. "He's helpless. He can't do anything." I turned to the medic, pretending to focus on the last touch of antiseptic on my face, trying to distract myself.
Then, a gunshot exploded.
I flinched, my hands flying to my ears. Silence, heavy with dread.
"Chris, what's happening?" I asked, my voice shaking. He didn't answer. He stood frozen, his back to me.
"Chris?" I called again, fear rising. I reached out, my fingers brushing his shoulder…and then he fell.
He crumpled to the ground.
The world blurred. I couldn't grasp what had happened. Then, a scream tore from my throat.
"CHRIS!"
Cole, Lexi, Luca – their faces panicked – ran toward us, shouting his name. I looked down. The blood spreading on his forehead was all I needed to know.
He had taken the bullet. For me. Again.
I dropped to my knees beside him, grabbing his face. His eyes were closed, his skin cold.
"Baby, open your eyes! Please, Chris!" My voice broke. He didn't respond.
Someone, Cole, I think – pulled me away, lifting me to my feet. I fought him, desperate to get back to Chris.
"Let me go! I need to be with him!" I screamed, tears blurring my vision.
The medics surrounded Chris, working quickly. They lifted him onto a stretcher. The helicopter blades started to spin, a deafening roar that swallowed everything but my own despair.
They were taking him away. And I couldn't stop them.
"We have to go with him!" I yelled, still fighting Cole.
He pulled me toward a car, holding me tightly. "He's going to be okay," he said, his voice strained. "He has to be."
Stephenie was in the back seat, her face pale. She took my hand, her touch cold. Lexi was beside her, sobbing, a reflection of the pain ripping through me.
This was all my fault. He was always saving me. And I couldn't save him.
"It was Frederick, right? He was the one who shot Chris?" I demanded, my voice raw with anger and fear. No one answered.
"Cole!" I snapped, watching him in the rearview mirror.
He met my gaze, his expression somber. "He initially aimed at you, but Chris… he threw himself in front of the bullet to protect you."
Each word felt like a blade twisting in my chest. I clutched at my sternum, as if I could physically stop the pain.
"I'm so sorry, Eve," Cole murmured, before turning back to the road. I felt Stephanie's hand gently pat my back, but it offered little comfort. The ache in my heart was too deep.
The hideout's location on the city's outskirts meant the drive to the hospital felt endless. When we finally arrived, the gates were swarmed with reporters and news crews, broadcasting live.
The hospital security recognized us and helped us navigate through the chaos. I practically leaped from the car and raced toward the entrance, the others close behind.
A nurse, already expecting us, directed us to the floor where Chris was in surgery. We hurried to the elevator. My heart hammered against my ribs as we ascended. With a ding, the doors opened, and I bolted out, racing toward the operating theater.
My family, along with Chris's father and Franklin, were there, pacing anxiously.
"Mum," I called, my voice cracking. They turned, their faces etched with worry.
"My baby!" My mother cried, rushing toward me, followed by my father and brothers.
As she wrapped me in her arms, I sobbed, the pent-up fear and grief finally breaking free. Her hand patted my back, a familiar comfort.
"Everything will be okay, my baby. Everything will be okay," she tried to reassure me.
I shook my head, pulling away, my eyes bloodshot as I searched her face. "Chris is in there because of me. He's hurt, fighting for his life because of me, Mum. It's all my fault…all my fault." I choked on the words.
A wave of dizziness washed over me. I felt strong arms steady me.
"Are you okay, sis?" Mason asked, his voice laced with concern. I nodded weakly.
"What's that on the floor?" I heard Romeo ask, his voice sharp with alarm. I looked down.
Blood.
A trail of blood was running down my leg.
"My babies…" I whispered, clutching my stomach. The lightheadedness intensified, blurring my vision. I barely registered the concern on their faces before darkness swallowed me whole.
--------------------
I later came to — slowly, my eyelids heavy. I was in a bed, in a room unfamiliar to me. Turning my head, I saw my mother seated beside me, her head bowed over our joined hands as if she were asleep. She must have been through so much today.
I tried to reach out my other hand to touch her hair, but my muscles protested, a sharp reminder of my body's fragility.
"You need to lie down and get more rest," a doctor said, his voice loud enough to wake my mother.
"Honey, you're awake! How are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry.
"I'm fine," I said, my voice strained. "How's Chris? Is he out of surgery?" I tried to sit up, but the doctor's words stopped me.
"You need to worry more about your babies," he said. His words dredged up the memory of what happened before I fainted, a reality I'd briefly escaped.
"Excuse me, Doctor? What do you mean, *babies*?" My mother asked, her gaze shifting between me and the doctor, puzzled.
"I mean her twins," the doctor said simply.
My mother stared at me, shock etched on her face. "Is this true? You're pregnant with twins?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I nodded. A slow smile spread across her face. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked, her voice filled with delight.
"It was supposed to be a surprise. Chris and I were going to announce it at the wedding reception," I said, my voice cracking as tears welled in my eyes.
"So, Doctor, what about my babies?" I asked anxiously, pushing myself up slowly as my heart raced.
"Calm down, ma'am. Your babies are fine, though you lost a lot of blood, which could have been detrimental to their health had it happened outside the hospital," he said, his gaze firm, making sure I understood the gravity of the situation.
"Now, since you're awake, the nurse will be here in a minute to give you two pints of blood, after which you must rest well before leaving this room," he said before turning and leaving the room.
I unconsciously placed my hands on my stomach and sighed in relief. The doctor's words had eased some of my fear, but nothing mattered more than seeing Chris.
"I ordered some food," my mother said, pulling out two paper bags from the floor.
"But I'm not hungry, Mum," I said. None of this mattered. I needed to see Chris.
"Of course, you are, honey. You haven't eaten all day. You need to think about the babies, too," my mother urged.
Just then, the door swung open, and my father walked in with Stephanie and Lexi.
"How are you doing, Eve?" Lexi asked, coming to sit beside me on the bed.
"Better than earlier, I guess," I said.
"Any update on Chris?" I asked, looking from the girls to my father.
"The surgery was a success," he said, watching my reaction. I knew there was more to come. His tone was too measured.
"And?" I asked anxiously.
He hesitated, looking down. "He's currently in the ICU, but…"
"But what?" I pressed.
"He's in a coma, and we don't know when or if he'll wake up," my father said, his voice heavy with sorrow.
Silence descended, thick and suffocating. My heart plummeted. My breath hitched. My mind struggled to process the words. Coma.
"Eve, are you okay?" I heard a distant voice ask.
Then, darkness consumed me.