Chapter 23
JACE MARINO
The hospital feels like a place where ti goes to disappear.
Hours have passed since they took Julian in, but the clock on the wall hasn’t moved. Maybe it’s broken. Or maybe I am.
The night outside has bled into morning without noticing. The city lights dimd. The world kept turning. But I stayed right here, on this sa uncomfortable chair, hands clasped together, eyes fixed on the double doors at the end of the corridor.
Every sound feels too loud. The squeak of shoes against the tile. The soft crackle of the intercom. The hum of vending machines that no one’s touched in hours.
Sowhere down the hall, I can hear a nurse laughing quietly. A sound that doesn’t belong in this kind of waiting.
Rico and Luka are still here too.
They haven’t spoken to once. They don’t need to. Rico’s glare says everything he wants to. Luka hasn’t looked up from the floor since we arrived. He’s been rubbing his thumb over a bracelet on his wrist, over and over, sothing nervous, sothing fragile.
I wish I could bla them for hating .
But I can’t.
If I were them, I’d hate too.
The doctor ca out hours ago. Calm voice, tired eyes — and said Julian had suffered a panic-induced collapse. Too much adrenaline. Too much stress. His body just... gave out.
They said he was stable now. They said he’d be moved to a room soon. They said not to worry.
But I don’t know how to stop.
Because all I can see when I close my eyes is the way he looked at in that room. Confusion, hurt, disbelief. Like I’d just torn the ground out from under him.
Rico broke the silence earlier. "You shouldn’t be here," he said, his voice sharp enough to cut.
I didn’t even lift my head. "I’m not leaving him."
He laughed under his breath. "You already did."
That one hurt.
Because it was true.
When the nurse finally cos back to tell us they’re moving Julian, my whole body jolts. I’m on my feet before she’s finished speaking.
"He’s okay?" I ask, even though I already know the answer won’t be enough.
She gives a small smile. "He’s stable. You can see him once he’s settled, but only for a few minutes."
I nod, following as they wheel him past. His face is pale against the pillow, lashes dark against his skin. There’s an oxygen tube at his nose, a monitor clipped to his finger. He looks peaceful, too peaceful.
Like he’s dreaming about a world that never had in it.
When we reach the room, the nurse adjusts a few things, checks his vitals, and then quietly leaves. Rico and Luka linger by the door. They look exhausted, eyes red, shoulders slumped. I expect them to tell to go again, but they don’t.
They just stay close enough to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.
I sit by the bed. The chair is cold tal, the kind that creaks when you shift your weight. I rest my elbows on my knees, staring at Julian’s hand resting on the blanket.
I don’t touch it.
Not yet.
The doctor’s words echo again. Exhaustions, stress, panic.
I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
I caused all of that.
I lean back, running a hand through my hair. "You were supposed to be angry with ," I whisper. "Not... this."
The monitor beeps softly, steady and even. It’s the only sound in the room that feels alive. I focus on it, counting each beat like it’s proof that I didn’t ruin everything beyond repair.
Rico clears his throat behind . "We didn’t call his parents," he mutters.
I turn slightly. "Why?"
He hesitates. "His dad’s a detective. If he finds out you’re involved..."
He shakes his head. "It’ll just make things worse."
I nod slowly. There’s a strange ache in my chest. Guilt and relief all tangled together. "Thank you," I say quietly.
Rico doesn’t answer. He just walks out of the room, muttering sothing under his breath. Luka follows after a mont, pausing only to glance at Julian and whisper, "Please wake up soon, man."
And then it’s just .
The room is dim, only half-lit by the morning spilling through the blinds. Dust drifts in the light, slow and quiet. The air slls like antiseptic and rain. Soone must’ve opened a window down the hall.
I look at him again, really look.
The faint color returning to his cheeks. The way his fingers twitch sotis, like he’s caught between dreams. He’s always moved in his sleep, restless, like even his body refuses to be still for too long.
I finally let my hand rest against his. His skin is cool, but not cold. His pulse flutters beneath my fingers, a tiny, stubborn heartbeat. It’s enough to make my throat tighten.
"I’m sorry," I whisper. "For the lies. For the na. For everything."
There’s no reply, of course. Just the rhythm of the machines and the faint sound of the world waking up outside. But saying it feels... necessary. Like it’s the only thing keeping from unraveling.
The door opens again, soft but deliberate.
My brothers.
Mateo first, then Marco. Still in their suits, looking out of place among all the white walls and quiet. They exchange a look before Mateo speaks. "He wants you ho."
The words land like a weight. "Tell him I’m busy."
"Jace," Marco starts gently, "you know how he gets when—"
"I don’t care." I keep my eyes on Julian. "I’m not leaving him."
Mateo sighs, stepping closer. "He knows about the boy."
I expected that, but hearing it still makes my stomach drop. "Of course he does," I say quietly. "He always knows."
"He’s angry," Marco adds. "He thinks you’ve been careless."
"Maybe I have," I say. "But I’m not abandoning him."
There’s a pause. Mateo studies . Not like a brother, but like soone trying to decide whether I’ve just signed my own death warrant. "You think staying here will change anything?"
"No," I say. "But it’s the only thing I can do right."
He stares a mont longer, then nods once. "Fine. But if he sends n—"
"Let him," I cut in. "They’ll have to get through first."
Leo frowns, but Matteo touches his arm, signaling him to drop it. "You’ve changed," he says quietly before turning toward the door.
I don’t answer.
Because I have.
And I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.
When they’re gone, I sink back into the chair, letting the silence settle again. The sun is higher now, painting faint stripes across Julian’s face through the blinds. I reach over and brush his hair away from his forehead, gentle this ti.
"You’re safe," I murmur. "For now."
My voice cracks on the last word, and I press my hand to his again, holding on like it’s the only anchor I’ve got left.
Outside, the city is waking up. Nurses trade shifts. Coffee slls drift faintly from down the hall.
But inside this room, ti stays still.
I stay with him. Watching, waiting. As the night finally gives up its hold.
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