Page 58 of Red Zone

“Mr. Cartwright?” A nurse called from the door, her tone clipped but polite as she entered, handing me the discharge papers. “They’re cleared to leave. No serious injuries.”

Relief washed over me like a wave, but it didn’t chase away the lingering anger—or the guilt. We listened to her brief instructions about rest, echoing everything the doctor had already told us. I nodded my thanks, swallowing the lump in my throat, and walked toward them.

Skye met my gaze as I approached, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. Her eyes, though rimmed with redness, softened. Lily stirred in her lap, lifting her head to look at me, thumb still tucked into her mouth and her bunny clutched tightly to her chest.

“Hey, Lilybug,” I said softly, crouching to her level. “You ready to go?”

She nodded, her little voice a whisper. “I wanna go with Mommy.”

“You will,” I promised, glancing at Skye.

Skye’s hand trembled slightly as she pushed a stray hair out of Lily’s face. “Thank you,” she murmured. Her voice was barely audible, but I caught it. “For coming. For not giving up.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll never give up on you. On either of you.” I would raze the world to keep them safe.

The drive to the police station was a blur. Skye sat in the back seat with Lily, holding her close. Her aunt and Coach had blown up my phone, only calming after they heard Skye and Lily were given a clean bill of health and that we would meet them at the police station.

Fiona had arranged for us to give statements, and despite the tension still thick in the air, Skye insisted on going. “I need to see this through,” she’d said, her tone resolute.

The station was a stark contrast to the hospital—a cacophony of ringing phones, shuffling papers, and low conversation. As soon as we walked through the doors, a voice cut through the noise, trembling and thick with emotion.

“Skye!”

Eileen Becket—Skye’s aunt—hurried across the room, her hands clasped to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. She was a blur of movement as she rushed to her niece and scooped both Skye and Lily into her arms.

“Oh, thank God.” She sobbed, pulling them close. “I was so scared. When you didn’t come home after letting me know you were on your way… I didn’t know what to think.”

Skye clung to her aunt, her own tears spilling over as Lily burrowed into her shoulder.

“We’re okay,” Skye whispered, her voice soft but steady.

Eileen pulled back just enough to cup Skye’s face, her tear-filled eyes scanning every inch of her niece like she needed to see for herself that she was truly there. “You’re sure? Are you hurt? What about Lily?”

Skye shook her head, brushing her fingers through Lily’s dark curls. “We’re fine. Just… shaken up.”

Eileen’s gaze flicked to me, her expression softening despite the worry still etched into her features. “Liam.” Her voice broke, and she reached out to squeeze my arm. “Thank you. For bringing them back.”

I nodded, words sticking in my throat. “I’d do it a thousand times over.”

Fiona stepped forward then, gently placing a hand on Eileen’s shoulder. “Let’s give them a moment to catch their breath before we take statements. There’s a quieter room in the back.”

Eileen nodded, her arm still wrapped protectively around Skye and Lily as she guided them toward the room Fiona mentioned. I stayed rooted in place, watching until they disappeared down the hall.

“Cartwright. Son.”

The deep, familiar voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to see Coach standing near the front desk, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“Coach,” I greeted him, my voice low as I approached.

His sharp gaze studied me, and for a moment, I felt like I was back on the field after a bad play.

“Before you follow your wife,” I started, “I need to tell you something.”

“Let’s talk.” He gestured toward a side office.

I followed him in silence, my chest tight with the weight of what I was about to say.

Once the door closed behind us, he leaned against the desk, arms still crossed. “What’s on your mind?”

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