Chapter 8: The Rescue & The Realization
930 Words
——-Teri’s POV
The sound of helicopter blades thundered overhead, the rhythmic whomp-whomp-whomp vibrating through her bones.
The sky was too bright. The sun cutting through her eyelids felt sharp, invasive, but she couldn’t lift her hand to block it out.
Move.
Her mind gave the command, but her limbs didn’t obey.
Everything was slow.
Heavy.
Wrong.
Voices—**loud, urgent, foreign—**shouted over the noise, words tumbling too fast for her fevered brain to process.
Italian.
Not the lazy, teasing drawl she had grown used to from him.
This was clipped, serious. Orders being given.
Hands—**strong, urgent, unfamiliar—**gripped her arms, her legs, and then—she was weightless.
Lifted.
A jolt of movement sent a sharp spike of pain through her ribs, and she gasped.
“Easy, easy.”
The voice was closer now, rougher, accented but familiar.
Someone pressed a cool hand to her forehead, fingers lingering a beat too long.
“She’s burning up,” a man muttered. “She needs medical attention now.”
Teri tried to blink, to focus, but everything felt thick.
Like she was trying to wade through mud.
Then—another voice.
His voice.
“I’ve got her.”
The words weren’t loud.
Weren’t even meant for her.
But she heard them.
Felt them.
Her lashes fluttered, sweat dampening them as she forced her eyes open.
Just for a second.
And there he was.
Raf.
His face blurred in and out of focus, but she knew that scowl anywhere.
Sharp. Intense. Furrowed brow. Lips pressed into a tight line.
And his eyes—
Worry.
Not frustration. Not indifference.
Just worry.
“Raf,” she rasped, her throat raw and dry.
His gaze snapped to hers, the tension in his jaw tightening even further.
“I’m here,” he murmured, voice lower, steadier than she expected. “Just stay awake for me, bella.”
She tried.
She really, really tried.
But her body wasn’t listening anymore.
Her limbs felt like dead weight, and she could barely feel the rough warmth of his hands as they steadied her, as he pulled her against his chest when another jolt of movement nearly sent her spiraling.
She felt the shift of air around her, heard the distinct clang of metal doors sliding shut.
The scent of salt and sweat was replaced by something cleaner.
Sterile.
A sudden rush of cool, pressurized air hit her overheated skin, making her shiver violently.
And then—
Darkness.
The next few hours—or maybe days—were a blur.
In and out.
Flashes of light.
Murmurs in Italian.
Someone pressing a cloth against her burning skin.
Rough hands adjusting her position, a voice muttering curses under its breath.
Raf?
She wanted to reach for him.
Wanted to tell him she was fine.
That she wasn’t dying.
But her body wouldn’t listen.
Her brain kept sinking, drifting, drowning.
At some point, she thought she heard shouting.
Voices raised in argument.
Snippets of conversation, breaking through the haze.
“—still out there.”
A deep voice.
Not Raf’s.
Someone else.
“They won’t stop looking for him. For all of them.”
“Then she needs to be kept out of it.”
Silence.
Then, a voice lower. Rougher.
His.
“I know.”
Teri’s fingers twitched against the sheets.
She tried to lift her head, tried to piece together the words, but before she could—
Her body betrayed her again.
The weight of exhaustion, of fever, of everything, pulled her back under.
And this time—
When she woke up—
Raffael wasn’t there.
———Meanwhile: Raf’s POV – The Rescue
Raf moved like a man on a mission.
Because he was.
Because there was no alternative.
He had already almost lost her once.
He wasn’t about to let it happen again.
His men worked quickly, securing the perimeter, moving with precision. Controlled. Efficient.
Not a single wasted movement.
They knew better than to hesitate.
Especially when he was watching.
The second they had landed, he had taken control.
Barking orders. Keeping his tone level. Authoritative.
Untouchable.
But the moment he saw her—
Everything tilted.
She was pale.
Sweat-drenched.
Her breathing shallow.
And when one of his men reached for her first—
Raf saw red.
“Don’t touch her.”
The words left him before he could stop them.
Too sharp. Too fast.
His men froze.
Because Raffael Esposito didn’t give a damn about civilians.
Didn’t personally intervene in situations that weren’t worth his time.
And yet—
There he was.
Lifting her himself.
Holding her against him, careful of her ribs, of her fever-hot skin.
Felt the way she barely stirred.
Barely reacted.
Shit.
She was worse than he thought.
He clenched his jaw, forcing his emotions deep, deep down.
“Move. Now.”
He didn’t let go.
Not when they loaded onto the helicopter.
Not when his medic pressed a damp cloth against her forehead, muttering under his breath.
Not when her lashes fluttered, just for a moment, her lips parting as if she had something to say.
She didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
Because even half-conscious—
She reached for him.
Her fingers barely curled against his arm before she drifted back under.
And that?
That did something to him he didn’t want to name.
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening.
He wasn’t religious.
Never had been.
But right then?
He sent up a silent prayer.
Just let her be okay.
Because if she wasn’t—
Raf wasn’t sure what he would do.
- Writer
