Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel) novel Chapter 302

Gabriel’s POV

The two gunshots tore through the air almost as one.

One slammed into Marco’s skull and his body dropped to the floor, lifeless. My enemy was gone, but I couldn’t spare a glance at him, not when a bullet tore through Clairessa’s shoulder.

My world stopped. All I saw was her collapsing, her hair falling across her face as she crumpled.

“No!” The word ripped from my chest as my legs moved before I thought. I dove forward, catching her before she hit the floor.

Her weight sagged into me, too limp, too still. Blood poured from her shoulder where the bullet had torn through.

My hands pressed against it, useless against the flood. Her hair clung to her damp face, and I pushed it back, desperate to see her eyes.

Her eyes were shutting as I pressed her closer to my body.

“Clairessa, stay with me,” I begged, voice shaking. “You’re going to be fine. Do you hear me? You’re fine.”

Her lashes fluttered, her lips trembling as though she was fighting to obey, but the darkness was already pulling her under.

Blood. God, there was so much of it, and no matter how hard my hands pressed, it kept gushing out.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” I begged, shaking as I held her tighter. “Stay with me. Please. Please.”

“Detective!” I roared, my voice breaking. “Do something! I need help here! Medic, now!”

Alvarez’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. “We’ve got her, hold on, Mr. Storm!” He shouted for the medics, his boots pounding closer.

All I could do was cradle her against me, muttering, “I love you, I love you,” even as her body grew heavier in my arms, her eyes finally slipping shut and her head rolling against my chest.

The medics swarmed, voices overlapping, hands reaching, but I couldn’t let her go. My arms tightened, clutching her limp body against me as though I could shield her from the blood pouring out.

“Sir, you’ve got to let go,” one of them said firmly, tugging at my shoulder. “We can’t help her if you don’t let us work.”

I didn’t even realize how tightly I was holding on until that moment. My chest heaved, my throat closing. Slowly, painfully, I loosened my grip and lowered her onto their waiting arms.

They slid her onto the stretcher, strapping her in, checking her vitals, and pressing an oxygen mask pressed over her face. One medic cut open the fabric around her shoulder. Another barked out numbers I didn’t understand, pressing gauze to the wound, fighting to slow the bleeding.

Her eyes stayed shut. Her body remained limp.

“Pressure’s dropping!” one of them snapped. “We need to move, now!”

“Sir, you’re riding with us,” another medic ordered, already wheeling her forward.

I nodded, my legs weak but moving. My gaze dropped to my hands, red, shaking, dripping with her blood. My stomach lurched.

“Sir, we have to move now!” the medic barked again, pushing me aside to clear the way.

I followed, stumbling after them, refusing to lose sight of her as they shoved the stretcher toward the ambulance bay.

The world suddenly moved so fast: flashing lights, officers shouting commands, chaos everywhere, but all I could see was her pale face, the rise and fall of her chest too shallow and fragile.

I climbed into the ambulance, my hand finding hers, cold beneath my grip.

“I’m right here, baby,” I whispered hoarsely as they slammed the doors shut.

—----

The swinging doors opened, and a woman stepped into the waiting room. She looked to be in her mid-forties, her dark hair tied back neatly. Her face was serious, but there was something almost hopeful in her eyes as she approached Adrian and me.

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