Chapter 160
Oscar's men quickly took down the guards who had been holding me.
He rushed over and pulled me into a tight hug, holding me so close I could hardly breathe.
"I'm fine, don't worry." I wrapped my arms around his waist, using him to hold myself upright, keeping my voice light. "I'm okay."
Oscar drew a slow, deep breath. His eyes grew red as he looked at me, his long fingers gently tracing the angry scar on my cheek. "Does it hurt? Where else are you hurt?"
He glanced down and spotted the white bandage wrapped around my leg. His chest heaved. His eyes went red. His voice dropped to a rough rasp. "Your leg — did he do that to you?"
I quickly smiled at him and pressed my hand against his chest, trying to look relaxed. "It's nothing serious. I'm still here. Don't panic."
He scooped me up in his arms, raised his gun toward the sky, and fired a single shot, then said to his men in a flat, cold voice, "Don't kill that one. Bring him to me alive."
Then he carried me toward a car on the other side. At that moment, gunfire erupted all around.
The car door shut, muffling the shots outside. I looked anxiously through the window. "Is it getting bad out there? How many men did you bring? Aubrey's got special forces with him, and the guys who came to back him up don't look ordinary either."
I was afraid we'd both end up trapped. That would make things so much worse.
Oscar set me down carefully and began unwrapping the bandage on my leg — it was so soaked through with blood, it had lost all color. His voice was rough. "Don't worry, he's not going anywhere. Your leg… does it hurt? Let me see how bad it is."
I wanted to hide it. I didn't want him to see, not now. But I couldn't stop him in time. He'd already unwound the bandage layer by layer, and what he saw was a bullet hole, the gauze stuck to the wound. His hands began to shake. He didn't dare touch it.
Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. His trembling hands slowly curled into fists. He clenched his jaw and let out a rough, anguished sound.
Seeing the pain and guilt in his eyes, I pulled him into my arms and patted his back slowly, trying to calm him. "It's just a bullet wound. I'm really okay. Don't worry. I promise, I'm fine."
His trembling fingers brushed my face, and he gently helped me sit up straight. "I'm getting you to a hospital right now."
I didn't argue. If we could get out of here, I didn't want to watch him fight these people — no matter how confident he'd sounded just now, I couldn't let him stay in danger.
The car had just started moving when someone yanked the door open and climbed in. I tensed and looked over — and recognized the face: it was Michael.
He looked straight at me. "You're hurt?"
Oscar said firmly, "Take care of things here. I'm taking her to the hospital. The bullet in her leg needs to come out as soon as possible."
Michael's expression, as stone-cold as ever, didn't change. "Got it."
Oscar added, "Once you've got the guy, don't hand him over to the police yet. Tell them I'll let them live — but I need to settle this myself first."
Michael nodded, gave me one long look, then turned and got out of the car.
The car pulled away quickly. The gunfire grew fainter and fainter. The tension I'd been holding onto was finally released, and I sank back onto the bed in the back of the vehicle and blacked out.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw a doctor in a white coat and Oscar's anxious face. I was lying on a hospital bed, and someone was cutting away my pant leg with scissors.
Oscar gripped my hand the moment he saw my eyes open, and gave me a small smile. "Emily. They already did a CT scan. Once they get the bullet out, you'll be fine. Don't be scared. I'm right here."
I smiled back. I wanted to tell him it was just a bullet, that I wasn't scared yet. But before I could say anything, the doctor had already pushed a needle into my injured leg.
The pain wasn't too bad. But watching him lay out the surgical tools on the tray, I felt a jolt of nerves anyway. I gripped Oscar's hand tighter and asked in a shaky voice, "So… you're just going to take it out, right here like this?"
The doctor spoke quickly. "The anesthetic's already in. Local anesthesia. The procedure isn't complicated — it won't take long."
I couldn't help asking, "Can't you just knock me out completely and let me sleep through it?"
He kept working as he explained, "You're pregnant. That's why we can't use general anesthesia. Local is the only option. The good news is it should still be straightforward."
I didn't hear anything after the first sentence. Pregnant? I'm pregnant?
I looked at Oscar, and he jumped in right away. "They found out during the exam just now. The most important thing right now is getting that bullet out. If it comes to it, the baby can—"
He was saying it to me and to the doctor at the same time.
"What do you mean, 'can't'? Who are you to decide that?" The words came out before I could think.
Oscar held my hand, his voice gentle. "Because you're all I care about."
"If you care about me, you care about my baby." I frowned at him.
The doctor cleared his throat. "Um… the baby is fine. We're nowhere near a situation where we'd have to choose. You two please stop arguing."
Oscar and I looked at each other, then both went quiet.
The anesthetic was starting to kick in. Once the area was fully cleaned, the doctor got to work.
Oscar seemed more nervous than I was. He was gripping my hand so tight it hurt. Sweat had broken out across his forehead, running slowly down the sharp lines of his face. He kept his voice low. "It's okay. Don't be scared. It'll be over soon. Does it hurt? If it hurts, tell me. You can even bite my hand if you need to."
I looked at him, almost amused. "They gave me anesthetic. I can't feel my leg."
He glanced over at what the doctor was doing, then immediately looked away, wincing like every cut was landing on him. "Why does it feel like it hurts me?" he said through clenched teeth.
I reached up and covered his eyes. "Don't look. Once you stop seeing it, the pain goes away."
The nurse beside us laughed and teased us, "Which one of you is actually having the surgery? How is the injured one the one doing the comforting?"
I smiled at Oscar. "See? I'm fine. If you can't handle watching, just don't look."
Oscar leaned down and pressed his forehead lightly against mine. "You're right," he said quietly. "I'm terrified. You have no idea how scared I was. Emily — that's why I have to get stronger. Strong enough that no one will ever dare touch you again."
I turned my hand to hold his back, and looked at him with all the warmth I had. He didn't need to say more. I understood.
"I'll be right there with you."
Our hands held tight. Time seemed to stop.
From now on, we would grow stronger together — strong enough that nothing could bring us down.