Chapter 10 - The Reckoning of the Hayes Syndicate
I didn't care about the dead men, the blood on the floor, or the smoking weapons.
The second Mario hit the ground, I sprinted across the warehouse, dropping to my knees beside Grandma’s chair and throwing my arms around her.
“Grandma! Oh God, Grandma, are you okay?!” I sobbed hysterically, burying my face against her trembling shoulder.
Grandma Clara let out a shaky, frail laugh, her cold hands stroking my hair. “Oh, sweet child... I told you my orthopedic boots had good traction.”
Tears of laughter and relief choked my throat.
Behind us, a heavy, metallic crash echoed through the room.
I whirled around.
Vincent had collapsed onto both knees, his hands pressed against his heavily bleeding abdomen, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. His face was ash-white, and dark blood was pooling rapidly onto the frost around him.
“Vincent!” I screamed, leaping up and rushing to his side.
I caught him just as his upper body pitched forward. I pulled his head into my lap, pressing my hands frantically against his torn wound.
“Luke! Get the trauma team in here! NOW!” I screamed into the darkness of the warehouse.
Vincent looked up at me through heavy, fluttering eyelids. He raised a trembling, bloody hand, his fingers gently touching the emerald pendant hanging around my neck.
“Is she... safe?” he whispered, his voice barely a breath against the freezing wind.
“She’s safe, Vincent. We’re all safe,” I sobbed, my tears landing on his pale cheeks. “You did it. You kept your promise. Now you have to stay awake! Don’t you dare die on me, Vincent Hayes! Do you hear me?!”
Vincent gave a faint, peaceful smile.
“I won't die, Claire,” he whispered, his gray eyes locking onto mine with eternal devotion. “I have... too much left to give you.”
His hand slipped from my necklace, falling limp against the frozen floor as his eyes closed and unconsciousness claimed him once more.
“Stay with me!” I begged, bending down and pressing my lips against his cold forehead. “Please, God, stay with me...”
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Ten medics swarmed the area, lifting Vincent onto a trauma gurney and rushing him out toward the waiting fleet of armored ambulances, while Luke gently helped Grandma into a heated transport van.
As the convoy of sirens wailed through the snowy Chicago night, speeding toward the private medical compound, I sat in the back of the ambulance holding Vincent’s cold hand, refusing to let go for even a single second.
