Chapter 31
Although his movements are slow, they’re purposeful. He wraps his arms around my head, and I circle mine around his torso. I don’t squeeze—afraid of hurting him.
I breathe in through my stuffy nose, and the smell of fire is rooted so deeply in him it feels like I’m walking through the flames with him. My body heating to a painful burn as if I really were on fire.
He exhales shakily before lowering his face into the crook of my shoulder.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whisper over and over. I keep saying it, because whoever I have to pray to for sparing him, I will.
He doesn’t speak—just adjusts his hold to pull me closer.
“Keoni…” Kali’s soft voice feels too intrusive, and selfishly, I don’t want to let her in. “Are you okay?”
Keo sighs, lifting his head from my shoulder to look past me, and I tilt my gaze upward in response. His chin is scratched; surgical tape stretches across his forehead to hold the skin together, and stitches run just in front of the ear closest to me.
“I’m alive,” he says at last, his tone somber.
The weight of losing a member of their team is so palpable it feels like a punch to my sternum. My heart already aches, but looking between the three of them, it feels like it could split into pieces. Two, no—three. One for each of them, and the devastation carved into their faces.
“Mr. Pierce, please return to your room.”
I look up to see Dr. Alvarez striding toward us. The look he gives, glancing between Keo and me, is questioning. And I realize the position we’re in. This isn’t a hug stepbrothers would be giving one another. I’ve got every inch of me, other than my feet and calves curved against him.
But it’s nowhere near as possessive as the hold he has on me.
There’s no way Dr. Alvarez doesn’t know who Keoni is to me, but at this point, everyone can think I’m vile if they want. I don’t want to let go of him, and I know he feels the same.
“You’ve got second-degree burns, you inhaled enough smoke to affect your breathing and oxygen levels for weeks, and you’ve got fresh stitches. You need to lie down and rest while we monitor you.”
“I’m going to go check on Delilah,” Kali says. Before leaving, she steps toward us. I know she wants to hug Keo, and I’m not going to stand in the way, even though letting him go feels unbearable.
I move away, and both girls wrap their arms around him. Taylor cries openly, while Kali’s tears streak silently down her face. Keo looks completely hollowed out, pain swimming in his beautiful amber eyes.
“I-I’m going to f-find Dom,” Taylor stammers. “T-This hurts.”
Keo nods weakly. “I know…”
“It’s so unfair,” Kali whispers, stepping back.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out to see several texts lighting up the Sapphire Valley group chat. I quickly type that I’m with Keo and that he’s alive. Then I shoot the same message to my sister.
By the time I slip my phone away, Keo is looking at me. Dr. Alvarez stands between us, his gaze fixed on me as well.
“Visiting hours begin at—”
“He’s staying,” Keo cuts him off, his voice rough. “Or I’ll leave.”
The doctor’s brows knit. “That wouldn’t be advised.”
“Then I’d advise you to make an exception. I just lost a friend and could’ve died myself”—my heart can’t take this—“I need Ayden here with me.”
There’s a subtle shift in Dr. Alvarez’s face—one I didn’t expect. Not judgment, not disapproval. It’s… acceptance. Understanding. His brows crease, but the corners of his lips curve into the faintest smile.
“Exception made, now please, Keoni, go back to bed.”
After a soft scolding from the doctor, I help him back into the room. Calista had returned with Ronan, so while a nurse hooked Keo back up to the machines, I ran to the lobby to let her know he was alright.
The evidence of her own crying warmed my heart. She barely knows us, but the empathy she has is everything that makes me grateful for the neighbors we have. Even Ronan expressed relief that Keo was okay, though his emotions are hard to read. I’ll admit, he scares me, even when he’s kind.
Cal hugs me before they leave and I head back to the room.
Keoni is sitting slightly upright, arms resting at his sides, eyes closed. It looks like they had helped him change; the bloody shirt is gone, replaced with a hospital gown.
I shut the door behind me and move to his side. I don’t bother with the chair—I simply stand next to the bed.
Dragging my hand lightly across his forehead, careful to avoid the cuts and tape, I watch his eyes slowly open.
I don’t want to smile because it doesn’t feel like a happy ending, not really, but to me, this was the only outcome I could accept. Overwhelmed and shaken, I smile anyway, even if I can feel my lips trembling.
He lets out a sigh heavy with unspoken words.
“Keo, I…” I choke on an intake of air.
“Ayden.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, staring at my shaking hand as it cups his jaw.
“Let’s not talk,” he murmurs, scooting slightly over. “Just… lay here with me.”
The space is likely just enough for me to fit on my side, if that. I’m lean, but not that small. However, that isn’t going to stop me from at least trying.
With careful movements, I manage to climb onto the bed, careful to avoid putting pressure anywhere on Keo, and settle on my side against him. His arm wraps around my head, cautiously, though I heard the faint hiss of discomfort as he rests it across my collarbone.
My forehead presses just above his heart.
I want to ask where it hurts, to know where I shouldn’t touch, but he asked me not to talk, and I won’t. Even if blabbering is usually how I find relief.
I edge one knee across his thigh and place my hand over his sternum. His pulse spikes briefly, but then the rhythm steadies, strong against my palm.
Then his hand, wrapped in transparent dressing, the IV secured beneath layers of bandage, covers mine and holds it as tightly as he can. The simple gesture wrecks me, pulling a broken breath from my chest.
I close my eyes and settle into my home.
One that just nearly burned down.
And one I can’t see myself living without.
The next three weeks pass in a blur—one I still can’t believe has been our reality.
Keoni suffered second-degree burns across his shoulder blades and couldn’t fully lie down until a few days after the incident. He ended up with more than eighty stitches, including a large gash in his side, others scattered across his body.
But he’s alive. And after the first week, he was walking farther than just the hospital hall.
His birthday was spent there; a day that was hard to find cheerful.
Britt and Calista came to spend a few hours with us, and Kali, though out of town, video-called in.
Taylor showed up in the evening with cupcakes.
To my surprise, Levi appeared as well, though Evelyn was absent.
He said she wanted to come but was tied up with work.
We even received a birthday message from Starlight.
Somebody in the group chat asks for updates every day or so. The love they pour over us, even without truly knowing us, is something I hadn’t expected—but it was desperately needed. Especially with everything going on beyond just Keo’s recovery.
The fire at the hotel is still under investigation. There was only one casualty: Corey. He’d fallen through the third floor straight into the blaze. I don’t want to know if he suffered. I just hope he didn’t.
According to reports, the ceiling collapsed on Keoni. It sounds like he lost consciousness immediately. When he woke briefly, all he remembered was the fire blazing around him, not that Dom found him and dragged him out.
Keo swears he heard someone screaming for help. I believe him, even though the reports say no one else was left in the building. He hasn’t spoken of it since. Says dwelling on it will only drive him crazy because he knows what he heard.
I told him I believe him, that maybe the screams came from another floor. He shut the conversation down quickly, recoiling from me just as swiftly.
After that first night together, he’s slept alone. He hasn’t asked me to stay beside him again. While I’ve chalked it up to recovery, I know it’s more than that.
He was discharged from the hospital today—the same day as Corey’s funeral.
It feels like death has been a constant presence in our lives for far too long. Corey’s plot lies only a few rows away from where our parents rest. This isn’t how I’d wanted to visit them—fresh from burying someone else we were beginning to call family.
The rain started halfway through the service, driving most of the mourners to the church for the repast. Only Taylor, Kali, Brittany, Keoni, and I stayed behind. None of us cared about being drenched as we watched the casket lower into the earth.
Britt stands at my left, her hand gripping mine while she leans into Taylor for support. Keo is on my right, his arm wrapped around Kali as she whispers her goodbyes.
“It was an honor to protect and serve with you, Corey,” she murmurs.
Taylor chokes on a sob, and Britt lets go of me completely to hold her. I shift instinctively closer to Keo, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me. I get it. Britt’s here. And Britt knows he’s my stepbrother.
When the rain grows heavier, the girls finally rush off, dresses clinging to their legs and hair plastered to their faces. I’m about to follow when Keoni stays rooted to the spot.
Blinking through the water streaking into my eyes, I glance around until I spot a worker in the distance with an umbrella. I hurry over, and he doesn’t even wait for me to ask before pressing it into my hands.
I pop it open as I return to Keo’s side, holding it over us both. I have to stand close to keep him from getting soaked, our shoulders brushing beneath the small canopy.
I hate the thought of dragging him away, but thunder rumbles low across the sky, and the rain’s only getting worse.
“Hey.” I set my hand carefully on his arm, bracing for him to pull away. Thankfully he doesn’t, and relief loosens something tight in my chest. “Come on. We can sit in the truck until it stops.”
Water runs down his face in thin rivulets, but his eyes don’t see the ground in front of him. They’re fixed somewhere else entirely, staring into a world that only exists inside his mind.
“Keo?” I watch his pupils dilate the second I say his name.
“It’s my fault.”
I take a slow, steady breath, and wrap my hand around his bicep. Beneath the double layers he’s wearing, I can feel the muscle tense, locked with guilt. I stay quiet. Telling him it isn’t his fault won’t help—not now.
His head bows, eyes squeezed shut. “Always my fucking fault.” The whisper scrapes raw from his throat, filled with so much anguish it makes my chest ache. “I sent him upstairs… It wasn’t my call to make. I wasn’t in command. Dom was. But I told Corey to check the third and fourth floors.”
My teeth clamp down on my lip hard.
“I thought… it would’ve been safer,” he breathes, voice breaking. “Since we knew the fire was on the second floor.”
Then, all at once, he crumples. His knees hit the mud so fast I stumble forward with him, heart lurching into my throat. Somehow, I catch myself before I fall over him.
As he leans forward, I move to kneel beside him, feeling the damp soil seep through my pants.
“I can’t… take anymore guilt… I can’t.”
“You aren’t guilty of anything. This isn’t your fault.”
“Who’s to blame, then?” He turns his head, red-rimmed eyes locking onto mine. They’re so intense, a stark contrast to the gentle tone in his voice. “If I hadn’t made the call… he could still be here… If I had just been… home…”
I’m not entirely sure what he means. It was his night to work—shift changes or not, it happened on a Tuesday.
“Keo, it’s… not okay. It won’t be okay for a long time.”
His shoulders drop, as if ready to defend or argue, but he doesn’t. It’s not alright. I feel this ache for everyone but no one more than him.
“It’ll hurt, but I’m here for you… as you’ve been for me.” I grip tightly to the umbrella and bring my opposite hand to his neck. “Let me be your anchor.”
His hand is behind my neck, pulling me into a hug so quickly I drop the umbrella. The sudden downpour pelts us, cold and unrelenting, but his warmth blankets me like the sun. He presses his forehead to my shoulder and shifts, pulling me even closer.
My knees dig into the muddy ground between his spread thighs as I lean fully into his embrace.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, not with me,” I whisper.
“Don’t let me push you away,” he murmurs. “I can’t lose you again.”
I pull him tighter, gripping his jacket and shaking my head. “I’m here, Keo. No matter the obstacles we face. We’ll do it together.”
Just as he’s physically here to protect me, I’ll guard his mind. We’ll fit together, even if our pieces have been misshaped and mishandled. Over time, they’ll form a perfect picture—one that only he and I can create.