"How long—why didn't you say anything?" Riley whispered, her heart racing again, but for a different reason this time.

"It's just a scratch," he muttered through gritted teeth, but she could see the pain etched on his face.

"Luke, this is not just a scratch." Panic surged through her as she reached for her jacket, pressing it hard against the wound. He winced, but didn't move away. "You need a hospital. We need to get you out of here."

"I'm not going to a damn hospital," Luke growled, his jaw set stubbornly. "It'll give us away. We're not safe yet."

"I don't care!" she shot back, her voice cracking with emotion as she applied more pressure. "You're not safe either! You could bleed out, Luke."

He met her gaze, his blue eyes softening just slightly, despite the pain. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Riley. You need to be safe first."

Her breath caught in her throat, but she shook her head, refusing to give in to the gravity of the moment. "You're an idiot, Luke Maddox. You can't just—" Her voice broke off, trembling with frustration. "You can't keep acting like your life doesn't matter."

Luke reached out, his hand gripping her wrist tightly, his voice low and steady. "It matters, Riley. But not more than yours."

Her heart ached at the words, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause around them. No one in her entire life had ever had her back quite like Luke Maddox. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, forcing herself to stay focused.

"Then help me help you," she whispered, her voice pleading. "Let me take care of you, Luke. Just this once."

He looked like he was about to argue, but after a moment, he nodded, his hand loosening its grip on her wrist. "Alright, alright," he sighed, leaning heavily against her. "But I'm not making it easy on you."

Riley let out a shaky breath, her pulse still racing. "You never do."

—--

The car screeched to a halt on the side of the narrow dirt road, kicking up gravel as Riley slammed on the brakes. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white. Luke was slumped in the passenger seat, one hand pressed to his bleeding side, his face pale and drenched in sweat.

"We're going to a hospital, Luke!" Riley's voice was a mixture of fear and anger, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she turned toward him.

"No, we're not," Luke growled, wincing as he shifted in the seat, his jaw clenched against the pain. "I told you, it's too risky."

"Too risky?" Riley's eyes blazed with frustration. "You've been shot! You're losing blood, Luke. You can't just—"

"I can't just what?" Luke snapped back, his voice sharp despite the pain in his body. "I can't just do my job and not put both our lives in danger by waltzing into a hospital where we'll be sitting ducks?"

Riley's chest tightened, and she gritted her teeth. "Sitting ducks? You think this is safer? You're bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, and I can't fix this with some bandages and hope."

"I've been through worse, Riley," Luke ground out, his breathing shallow but determined. "I'll survive this. We go to a hospital, and Sinclair's people or whoever else is after us could track us down in minutes."

"Goddammit, Luke!" she shouted, her frustration boiling over. "This isn't some pissing contest about how tough you are. This is about your life! Don't you get that?"

"I do get it," Luke snapped, his voice hoarse. "But if we go to a hospital, we're both as good as dead. They'll trace us. They'll be waiting for us, watching for any sign we slip up."

Riley's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't think straight, couldn't stand the thought of just sitting there while he suffered. "You're being stubborn! You're not thinking clearly because you're in pain!"

Luke turned his head toward her, his eyes dark and steady. "I'm thinking clearer than you are right now. It's not just my life on the line here, Riley. It's yours too. You really want to risk that? After everything we've been through?"

She sucked in a breath, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "I can't lose you, Luke."

His face softened for a moment, his resolve wavering as he saw the pain in her eyes. But he held firm. "You won't. I promise. But we can't go to a hospital."

Riley's hands trembled, her heart hammering against her ribs. "And what if you don't make it, huh? What then? What am I supposed to do?"

Luke's expression tightened, and he let out a frustrated sigh, wincing as another sharp pain shot through him. "I'll make it," he said quietly, but the strain in his voice betrayed the uncertainty he was trying so hard to hide. "I just need you to trust me on this. We can't risk going somewhere they can track us. It's too dangerous."

Riley swallowed hard, her chest aching with the weight of her fear. "I do trust you," she whispered. "But I can't just watch you bleed out, Luke. I can't..."

"You won't have to," Luke said, his voice softening. "I'll be fine. I've been through worse."

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. "This isn't the same," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked away for a moment, as if gathering the strength to keep arguing. When he looked back at her, his gaze was steady but filled with exhaustion. "I know what I'm doing. We're too close to getting Sinclair, too close to making sure none of this happens to you. I'll be okay."

Riley let out a shaky breath, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You're so damn stubborn, you know that?"

Luke gave a faint, pained smirk. "You love it."

"Not right now, I don't," she shot back, though her voice wavered with emotion.

Luke reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. "I'll make it," he repeated softly. "But no hospitals. Please."

Riley stared at him for a long moment, her heart breaking as she saw how much pain he was in, how weak he'd become. But beneath all that, she saw his stubborn determination. His unwavering belief that he could make it through.

Her hands trembled as she pulled away from his grasp, her eyes still wet with unshed tears. "Fine," she muttered, her voice choked. "But you better not die on me, Luke. I swear to God, if you do..."

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured, giving her a small, reassuring smile that did nothing to ease the knot of fear in her chest.

She swallowed hard and nodded, though the weight of her decision settled heavy in her gut. Without another word, she threw the car into gear and drove off, her mind racing as she tried to focus on getting them somewhere safe—somewhere she could help him, even if it wasn't a hospital.

But the fear never left her, not for a second.

The drive to the motel was a blur. Riley's hands were shaking as she sped down the winding roads, glancing at Luke every few seconds to make sure he was still breathing. By the time they reached the motel, he was barely conscious, his face drenched in sweat.

She half-carried him into the room, laying him gently on the bed. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with a mix of pain and frustration.

Riley kicked the motel room door shut behind them, the loud slam reverberating through the cheap walls as she practically dragged Luke inside. His weight sagged against her as they stumbled toward the bed, his face pale, eyes glassy with pain. Blood had soaked through the makeshift bandage she'd wrapped around his side, darkening the fabric.

"Luke, sit down," she ordered, her voice sharp with worry as she eased him onto the edge of the bed. He grunted, pressing a hand against the wound, his knuckles white from the effort.

"You're losing too much blood," she muttered, pacing the room. "I need to go out and get supplies. We're not far from a store, and I can—"

"You're not going anywhere," Luke growled, cutting her off as he leaned back against the headboard, his breathing labored. His eyes were dark, filled with equal parts pain and anger. "It's not safe."

"I don't care if it's safe!" she snapped, rounding on him. "You need stitches, Luke. You need more than just a damn bandage. If I don't go, you'll—"

"I'll be fine," he shot back, his voice rough. "We're not taking that risk."

Riley clenched her fists at her sides, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm not just going to sit here and watch you bleed out."

"And I'm not letting you walk out there when we don't know who's watching, or who could be waiting to finish the job," Luke bit out, his jaw clenched against the pain. "You think I'm gonna let you get yourself killed because of me?"

"That's not your call," Riley shot back, her voice rising with frustration. "I can handle myself, and you need help, Luke. You're being stubborn and reckless."

He gave a low, bitter laugh, wincing as the motion sent a wave of pain through him. "Reckless? You're the one who ran out there, practically yelling for those assholes to follow you, and now you want to waltz into town like it's no big deal?"

"Because I had to protect you!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "I couldn't just let them—"

"And now you want to go out there again, to do what? No, Riley. Not this time. You stay here."

Riley glared at him, her chest heaving. "I'm not asking for your permission, Luke."

His eyes darkened, and he forced himself to sit up straighter, ignoring the pain that ripped through him. "Like hell you're not."

She let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her ears. Her frustration boiled over, and she reached for her gun, unholstering it in one swift motion. Luke's eyes widened slightly, but before he could speak, Riley thrust the weapon into his hand.

"Here," she said, her voice cold, trembling with emotion. "If anyone other than me walks into this room, shoot them."

"Riley—"

"No," she snapped, cutting him off, her eyes flashing. "If you want to stop me, you're going to have to shoot me. But I'm going. You need supplies, Luke. And I'm not going to stand here and watch you die because you're too damn proud to admit it."

Luke stared at the gun in his hand, his fingers curling around the grip. His jaw worked, anger simmering beneath the surface, but there was something else in his eyes—fear. Fear for her.

"Don't do this," he said, his voice low, strained. "Don't make me sit here and wonder whether or not you're coming back."

Riley's heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she steeled herself. "I have to. And you know it."

Luke's gaze locked onto hers, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the air. Then, without another word, Riley turned on her heel and stormed toward the door.

The trip to the drugstore felt like an eternity. Every second, she was convinced someone was following her, watching her. But no one did. She grabbed everything she needed and hurried back to the motel, her heart pounding in her chest.

When she returned, Luke was barely conscious. Still, she didn't miss the look of relief that glanced across his features when he saw her come through the door. She set the supplies down and knelt beside him, her hands shaking. "Here," she whispered, shaking him awake as she passed him some water and painkillers.

Gently, she peeled back the jacket pressed against his wound and lifted his shirt to get better access to the wound.

"If you wanted me naked, Torres, all you had to do was ask," He teased. He attempted a smile but winced in pain as he shifted.

Riley pursed her lips. "This is going to hurt," she said, her voice trembling despite her best effort to stay calm.

Luke gave her a faint, wry grin. "I've had worse."

"Shut up," she snapped, though the edge in her voice didn't hide the tears brimming in her eyes.

She poured vodka onto a rag and pressed it against the wound in his side. Luke sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his whole body tensing. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, gripping her hand so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Stay still," Riley whispered, her voice breaking.

She couldn't meet his eyes. Seeing him in this much pain was unbearable, but there wasn't time to hesitate. She had to do this. She handed him a towel from the bathroom, her hands shaking. "Bite down on this," she said softly.

Luke hesitated, then took it, shoving it into his mouth with a nod.

Riley took a deep breath, picked up the tweezers, and leaned in closer to the wound. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He groaned into the towel as she dug for the bullet, his muscles rigid with pain. Each strangled yell that escaped past the towel made her stomach twist, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't stop to wipe them away.

"Almost there," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Finally, the tweezers clinked against something solid. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood as she eased the bullet out. Luke's body sagged slightly in the chair, his face pale and drenched in sweat, but he stayed quiet except for the ragged groans that rumbled from deep in his chest.

With trembling hands, Riley grabbed the needle and thread. "One more thing," she said, her voice barely audible.

Luke spat the towel out. "Just do it."

She stitched him up as quickly as she could, but every pull of the needle made him flinch, his jaw tightening as he tried to swallow the pain.

When it was finally over, Riley slumped to the floor beside the bed, her hands stained with his blood. She buried her face in them, sobbing quietly.

"Hey," Luke rasped, his voice hoarse but steady. He reached out, his hand brushing against her shoulder. "I'm okay. You did good."

She shook her head, unable to look at him. "You're not okay. You—"

"Riley," he interrupted, his voice firmer this time. She looked up at him through tear-streaked lashes, and despite the pain etched across his face, he gave her a small, reassuring smile. "I'm still here. Thanks to you."

She nodded, swiping at her cheeks, and rose to grab a blanket. "You should rest," she said, her voice thick.

Luke leaned back in the chair, letting out a long exhale. "I'll rest when you do."

It wasn't much, but for now, it was enough.

**********************

Author Note

</3 this chapter was a heavy one!

What do you think is going to happen next?

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