Page 32 of Princess

He shrugs off what’s obviously a compliment and focuses on tending Noah. He opens up one of the cases and pulls out some first aid supplies. He cleans him up, finds and binds the bullet wound in his back, and gives him some pain medication.

I help as much as I can, even though the blood and Noah’s pain make my stomach churn dangerously.

When we’re done, Grant thrusts a bottle of water at me. “Drink some of this.”

“I don’t—”

“Drink it.”

I make a face at him, but I do take a few sips. Small ones since I’m still kind of queasy.

After a minute, I feel better. I let out a slow exhale. This was evidently what Grant was waiting for. He pulls me a few feet away from Noah, toward the exit of the cave, and he says, “You stay here with him. I’m going to scout the camp and figure out what we’re up against.”

My spine stiffens with a jerk. “You can’t go! They’ll see you. Noah can just tell you—” I break off the words as I glance back. Noah looks better than he did, but he isn’t even conscious anymore.

“He can’t tell me anything right now, and I’ve got to learn as much as I can.”

“Then I’ll come—”

“Someone needs to stay with Noah.”

“But what if he needs help? I don’t know enough about first aid to—”

“Olivia,” he says thickly, reaching out to cup one of my cool, damp cheeks. “He’s going to die. There’s nothing you can do for him anyway.”

“What? No! We—”

“We made him as comfortable as we could, but he’s got a bullet in his back. I’m not a surgeon. I can’t get it out. And he’s lost too much blood anyway. We’d have to get him back to the clinic in the bunker to save him, and even then we might not be able to. He’s not going to make it, princess, but I don’t want him to die alone.”

My eyes burn. My lips wobble. My throat closes up painfully.

“I’m sorry,” Grant adds in a gentle voice. “I know you really like him.”

“I do.” I swallow hard. Make myself focus on the most urgent thing. “But you can’t go off by yourself. They’ll find you and kill you! You can’t, Grant.”

“I’m not going to get killed. I’ll stay out of sight.” He holds my gaze with a strange sobriety. An earnestness that’s not at all like him. “I’m not going to do something stupid and leave you here alone. I promise.”

I nod. I believe him. And I also know he’s right that we need more information before we can figure out what to do.

Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem. Maybe our people will be able to fight back and retake the camp. Maybe we can even get Noah into the bunker in time and save him.

There’s no reason to expect the worst.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m holding you to that promise. Come back as quick as you can. I can’t do this without you.”

He opens his mouth like he might say something but then closes it again. He does that so often. Like he’s always stopping himself from saying what he wants to express, and it’s never made me more frustrated than it does right now.

Instead of speaking, he leans forward and gives me a brief, hard kiss. Then he’s gone before I can even process what happened.

I have nothing to do but return to Noah.

He’s still mostly unconscious, but he’s shifting restlessly. He looks even paler than he did before. He needs surgery. A blood transfusion. And there’s no way we can give that to him.

I reach over to grab the remains of the bloody shirt we tore off him. I find the cleanest scrap of fabric and tear it off. Then dampen it with water and wipe the perspiration from his face.

It’s not going to do anything worthwhile, but I need something to do.

After several minutes—or maybe longer since I’m too dazed to keep track of time—his eyes flutter open.

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