Page 130 of Beneath the Surface

Wheeler gasped, choking, as Dax collapsed sideways onto the floor.

SWAT officers swarmed them immediately. Pulling Wheeler away, cuffing him. Securing the scene.

Someone was pulling Quinn back, checking her for injuries, asking if she was hurt.

But all Quinn could see was Dax.

He was on his back on the concrete, not moving, his eyes closed, blood pooling beneath him in a dark, spreading lake.

“No—” Quinn tore away from the officer, dropped beside Dax, her hands on his face. “No no no—Dax, stay with me—”

His eyes fluttered open. Barely.

“Quinn—”

“I’m here, I’m right here—” Her tears fell onto his face. “Don’t you dare die on me. Do you hear me? After everything—after coming here—after saving me—you don’t get to die.”

“Love you,” he whispered. “So much. Should have—should have trusted you. Should have—”

“Shh, save your strength—” Quinn looked up wildly. “MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC!”

Footsteps running. Paramedics appearing with kits and a stretcher.

Quinn was pushed aside as they descended on Dax, their hands moving efficiently—cutting away his blood-soaked shirt, exposing the mangled shoulder, calling out vitals in calm, sharp voices.

“GSW to left shoulder—” “Arterial damage—” “Blood pressure dropping—” “We need to move now—”

They lifted Dax onto the stretcher. Quinn tried to follow but someone held her back.

“Ma’am, you need to be checked out too—”

“I’m fine—I need to—” Quinn struggled, watching as they carried Dax toward the stairs. “Dax!”

His hand lifted weakly from the stretcher, reaching for her.

Quinn broke free from whoever was holding her and ran to him, catching his hand in both of hers.

“I’m here,” she said, walking alongside the stretcher as they moved. “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

“Love you,” Dax said again, his grip weak but real. “Quinn—I’m sorry—for everything—”

“I love you too.” Quinn’s tears wouldn’t stop falling. “And you’re going to be fine. You have to be fine. Because I’m not done being mad at you yet.”

Despite everything, Dax offered a weak smile. “Stubborn.”

“Always.”

They reached the stairs. The paramedics started up, but one of them looked at Quinn.

“You can ride in the ambulance. Stay with him.”

Quinn nodded, not trusting her voice.

As they emerged from the basement into the cold night air, Quinn saw the full scope of the scene—police vehicles everywhere, lights flashing, officers securing Wheeler’s men, Captain Holloway barking orders.

And Wheeler himself, in handcuffs, being led to a patrol car. He looked diminished now. Old. Just a man, not a monster.

He saw Quinn and his eyes hardened.