Chapter 94 BULLET WOUND
The bullet tore through Julian’s chest with a sharp, violent force. Knocking breath out of him. But he didn’t stop.
He didn’t even fully register the pain. All he knew was Eli in his arms.
Julian tightened his hold around him, his grip almost desperate as he forced his body forward.
“Move,” he rasped under his breath, pushing through the last stretch toward the stairs.
Behind him, chaos still roared; gunshots, shouting, bodies dropping… but Julian didn’t look back. He didn’t care.
He reached the stairs and started climbing, fast despite the blood soaking through his shirt.
Each step hurt, his chest burned, his breath came uneven. But he kept going.
“Stay with me,” he muttered against Eli’s hair. “Stay with me, baby. I'm so sorry, I'm putting you through this.”
Eli didn’t respond.
Behind them, Anton moved like an angry tiger. He jumped Henry before the man could fire again, slamming into him and knocking the gun out of his hand.
The weapon clattered across the floor.
Anton grabbed Henry by the collar and drove his fist straight into his face.
A sick crack.
Blood burst from Henry’s nose.
Henry groaned, stumbling.
Anton didn’t stop. He dragged him and slammed his head against a pillar.
Once.
Twice.
A dull, heavy sound echoed.
Henry’s body went slack for a second before Anton shoved him away.
Henry hit the floor hard.
Anton stood over him, breathing rough, eyes cold.
Then he turned, and ran, up the stairs. Fast.
He caught up with Julian just as they burst out of the underground entrance into the cold night air.
“Keep moving!” Anton said, already scanning ahead.
Julian didn’t answer, he just kept going.
They reached the car.
Anton rushed ahead and yanked the back door open.
“Get in!”
Julian slid into the back seat, still holding Eli tightly against his chest.
Anton slammed the door shut, then paused for just a second.
He pulled a small pager from his pocket, pressed it, and spoke quickly.
“Retreat. All of you. Pull back. Do not kill Henry. Repeat— do not kill him.”
He shoved the pager back into his pocket and ran around to the driver’s seat.
He got in and started the engine in one swift motion.
The car roared to life.
Anton twisted around slightly. “How are you?”
Julian didn’t answer properly, he just gave a low grunt. His head was leaning back against the seat, his breathing uneven.
Anton’s eyes flicked to him, then he quickly pulled out his phone and turned on the torchlight.
“Let me see.”
He pointed the light at Julian, and froze.
Julian’s white shirt was soaked.
Dark red blood that's spreading fast.
“Fuck,” Anton muttered under his breath.
His stomach twisted.
He reached forward instinctively, trying to assess the damage.
Then he shifted Eli slightly, just a little, to see Julian's wound better.
Eli’s head rolled slightly with the movement, but there was no response from him.
Anton frowned.
“Eli?”
No reaction.
“Eli?”
Nothing.
Anton’s chest tightened. He moved Eli’s head a little more, pulling it away from Julian’s chest.
At first, he thought the blood on Eli’s face was Julian’s.
But then—
He looked closer.
The light caught it… there's a darker patch of fresh blood coming from Eli. From the side of his head.
Anton’s breath hitched.
“No…”
His fingers moved fast, pushing Eli’s hair aside.
And there it was.
A wound.
Small but deadly.
Anton’s voice dropped. “Julian…”
Julian didn’t respond immediately. He looked half out of it.
“Julian,” Anton said again, sharper this time. “I think Eli got hit.”
That snapped him.
Julian’s eyes opened wider.
He forced himself upright, ignoring the pain that tore through his chest.
“What?” his voice came out rough.
Anton turned the light again, showing him.
The bleeding wound.
Julian stared.
For a second, he didn’t breathe.
“Drive,” Julian barked, panic breaking through his voice. “Drive to the hospital!”
Anton didn’t waste another second. He slammed the gear and stepped on the accelerator.
The car shot forward, speeding into the night, Fast. Too fast, but not fast enough to Julian.
“Stay with me,” Julian kept saying, his voice tight, shaking as he held Eli’s face. “Eli, open your eyes.”
No response.
“Eli.”
Nothing.
Julian’s hands were trembling now, pressing lightly against Eli’s cheek.
“Don’t do this,” he muttered. “Don’t do this, please.”
Anton gripped the steering wheel hard. His knuckles turned white.
“Julian, calm down,” he said, though his own voice wasn’t steady. “Don’t move too much. You’re bleeding.”
Julian ignored him completely.
“Eli, wake up.”
Nothing.
Anton swallowed. His chest felt tight. Goosebumps spread across his skin as he drove, weaving through the empty roads at dangerous speed.
“Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on…”
The distance felt endless, every second stretched, every turn too slow.
Julian’s breathing got worse, but he didn’t care. He kept trying. Kept calling Eli’s name.
“Eli… baby… please…”
Still nothing.
Finally—
Lights.
The hospital.
Anton didn’t even fully stop the car before jumping out.
He ran to the back door and yanked it open.
“I’ve got him!”
He carefully but quickly lifted Eli out of Julian’s arms.
Julian tried to get out too, his movements slower now, his strength slipping.
Anton didn’t wait.
He rushed toward the entrance with Eli in his arms.
“Help!” he shouted. “Gunshot wound! He’s been shot in the head!”
The doors burst open.
Nurses rushed toward them immediately, pushing a stretcher.
“Put him here!” one of them said.
Anton laid Eli down carefully.
They moved fast, checking, pressing, calling out instructions.
Julian stumbled in behind them.
Anton glanced back and snapped, “He’s been shot too!”
Another set of nurses rushed in with a second stretcher.
“Sir, lie down—”
“No!” Julian snapped, stepping back. “Take him. Focus on him. Help my—”
“Sir, you’re bleeding—”
“I said focus on him!” His voice was sharp, and commanding.
No one argued further.
They pushed Eli’s stretcher toward the emergency ward.
Julian followed immediately, Anton right behind him.
They reached the emergency room.
Doctors swarmed Eli.
“Gunshot to the head—”
“Pulse—”
“Get vitals—”
Anton stood close, watching every movement, his chest tight.
Julian stood beside the bed, refusing to sit, refusing to move.
One of the doctors looked up briefly.
“He’s losing blood. We need to move fast.”
Anton nodded quickly. “And him,” he pointed at Julian. “He’s been shot in the chest. He needs urgent care.”
A nurse stepped closer to Julian again. “Sir, please—”
“I’m fine,” Julian snapped without even looking at her. “Focus on him, save my husband.” Even with the sternness in his voice, he's obviously becoming more weak.
The doctor examining Eli frowned. He leaned closer, checking the wound again, then his expression changed.
He looked at the others. “The bullet is lodged in his head,” he said.
Anton’s heart dropped.
Julian went completely still.
“We need to take him to surgery immediately,” the doctor continued. “Prep the OR.”
“Yes, doctor,” a nurse replied quickly.
Then—
Another nurse hesitated, her voice uncertain.
“Doctor…”
The doctor looked at her. “What?”
She swallowed.
“There’s… no surgeon available right now to perform the operation.”
Anton blinked. “What?”
The word came out sharp, unbelieving.
“What do you mean no surgeon?”