18. Felix
FELIX
“ S tay with me,” I plead, pressing my hands against the wound to slow the bleeding. My fingers are slick with his blood, and panic claws at my chest. “Julian, please.”
His eyelids flutter and his lips move, but no sound comes out.
“Don’t do this to me,” I choke out, tears blurring my vision. “You can’t—you can’t just show up and save me and then leave me like this. You’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”
But his head falls back as his body goes limp in my arms, and the only sounds in the car are my broken sobs.
The car tears down the empty streets, the roar of the engine drowning out my panicked thoughts. I’m cradling Julian against me in the backseat, my hands pressed hard against the wound on his side. The blood keeps coming, warm and sticky, and I can’t stop shaking.
“Drive faster!” I yell at the driver, my voice cracking.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” he snaps back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “We’ll be at the hospital in five minutes.”
Five minutes feels like an eternity. Julian’s head is heavy against my chest, his breath shallow and ragged.
“Stay with me, Julian,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Don’t you dare close your eyes.”
His eyes flutter open, just barely, and a weak, lopsided grin spreads across his face. “Bossy,” he murmurs, his voice so faint I have to lean in to hear him.
“I’ll be as bossy as I damn well please if it keeps you alive,” I snap, trying to sound angry, but it comes out as a desperate plea.
Julian’s hand twitches, his fingers brushing weakly against mine. “Felix,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
“I’m here,” I say quickly, clutching his hand like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.
His gaze meets mine, hazy but focused, and my heart clenches at the look in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it,” he says, his words slurring slightly.
“Mean what?” I ask, panic lacing my voice. “Julian, what are you talking about?”
His brow furrows, like it’s taking all his strength to string the words together. “What I said...about not loving you.” He pauses, his breath hitching. “I didn’t mean it. I never meant it.”
My throat tightens and tears spill over, hot and uncontrollable. “I know you didn’t,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
His hand squeezes mine, so weak it’s barely there. “Forgive me, please...” he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed.
“Julian,” I choke out, shaking him gently. “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”
His lips twitch in the faintest hint of a smile. “I love you. Always have.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest, but before I can respond, his body goes limp in my arms, his head rolling to the side.
“No no no,” I shout, gripping his face and willing him to open his eyes. “Julian! Wake up! You can’t?—”
“We’re almost there!” the driver yells as he swerves sharply around a corner.
I press my forehead to Julian’s, my tears falling onto his blood-streaked skin. “You don’t get to say that and then leave me,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “You hear me? You don’t get to do that.”
The car screeches to a halt in front of the hospital, and the doors fly open. Medics rush toward us and pull Julian from my arms.
“Please,” I beg, stumbling out of the car after them. “He’s losing so much blood—please, just help him!”
They’re saying things I can’t understand, their voices a blur as they wheel him through the emergency doors. I try to follow, but someone stops me, their hands firm on my shoulders.
“You need to let them work,” the driver says, his voice steady but grim.
I shake him off, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. My hands are coated in Julian’s blood, and the words he said echo in my head, looping over and over like a broken record.
I love you. Always have.
And now he might never get the chance to say them again.
***
The waiting room feels like a cage. The sterile white walls press in around me, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead drilling into my skull. Every second drags like a lifetime, and I can’t stop staring at my blood-streaked hands. Julian’s blood.
The nurse at the front desk hasn’t looked up in over an hour, and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve asked for updates. They always say the same thing: “He’s still in surgery.”
I sit hunched over in one of the stiff plastic chairs, my foot tapping nervously against the tiled floor.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I don’t bother to check it. Nothing matters right now except Julian making it out of that operating room alive.
“Felix,” a familiar voice says softly, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
I glance up to see Elijah standing in the doorway, his suit slightly wrinkled, his tie loosened. Sunglasses shield his bruised eyes from prying stares. His expression is uncharacteristically soft, concern etched into every line of his face.
“Elijah,” I croak.
He steps closer, his shoes clicking softly against the floor. Without a word, he sits in the chair next to mine, his presence grounding but heavy. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence is too loud, filled with everything we’re not saying.
“How is he?” Elijah finally asks.
I shake my head, my throat tightening. “Still in surgery. They won’t tell me anything else.”
Elijah exhales sharply and runs a hand through his hair. “Julian...he’s strong. He’ll pull through.”
I want to believe him, but the image of Julian bleeding out in my arms keeps flashing through my mind. “What if he doesn’t?” I whisper, the words tasting like ash. “What if?—”
“He will,” Elijah interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. “He has to.”
I nod, but it’s more reflex than belief. Silence stretches between us again until Elijah leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“You know,” he begins, his voice quieter now, “Julian’s done more for you than you probably realize.”
I glance at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Elijah tilts his head, meeting my eyes. “He’s kept you safe, Felix. From our family, from the Vitales, from anyone who’d think to use you as leverage against him.” His jaw tightens. “He’s put himself in danger more times than I care to count, all to protect you.”
The weight of his words sinks into me like a stone. I’ve always known Julian was shielding me from something, but I never realized the extent of it.
“Why?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
Elijah raises an eyebrow, his expression softening. “Why do you think? He loves you.”
I swallow hard, guilt twisting in my gut. “He never told me about any of this.”
“Because he didn’t want you to carry that weight,” Elijah says simply. “He knew the risks of being with you, but he took them anyway. And now...”
He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to. The reality of it is suffocating.
“Elijah,” I say after a long pause, my voice shaking, “how do I help him? How do I get him out of this life?”
Elijah leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Getting out of the Greco family isn’t easy. Hell, it’s almost impossible. But if anyone can do it, it’s Julian.”
“How?” I press, desperation creeping into my voice.
Elijah looks at me, his expression grave. “We need leverage. Something that forces our father to let him go without retaliating. And we need to make sure Julian’s protected, because if our father sees this as a betrayal, he won’t hesitate to come after him. Or you.”
My stomach turns at the thought, but I nod. “Then we find leverage. Whatever it takes.”
Elijah studies me for a moment, his gaze sharp. “You really care about him, don’t you?”
I meet his eyes, my jaw tightening. “I love him. And I’m not going to let him sacrifice himself for me anymore.”
Elijah’s lips curve into the faintest of smiles. “Good. Because if we’re going to do this, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
The door to the waiting room opens and a nurse steps in, her expression neutral but professional. “Julian Greco’s family?”
I’m on my feet in an instant. “That’s us.”
She nods. “He’s out of surgery. The doctor will be out shortly to explain his condition, but he’s stable for now.”
Relief floods through me, so overwhelming that I almost collapse back into the chair. Elijah places a steadying hand on my shoulder, his grip firm.
“We’ll figure this out, Felix,” he says quietly. “For now, focus on him.”
***
The sterile beeping of the heart monitor is the only sound in the room, a metronome to the suffocating silence. I sit slumped in the chair next to Julian’s bed, my hand curled around his, too scared to let go. He looks impossibly small like this—hooked up to machines, his face pale against the stark white hospital sheets.
Elijah left hours ago, promising to handle the doctors and keep the cops from sniffing around. “Stay with him,” he said, and I didn’t need to be told twice. I haven’t left this chair, not even when the nurses came in to check his vitals.
The clock on the wall ticks past 1AM, but I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see him bleeding out in my arms. The image is burned into my brain, a horrifying loop that won’t stop playing.
I lean forward and rest my head against the side of the bed, my fingers tightening around his. “You’re such an idiot,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Running in there alone like you’re some kind of superhero.”
My throat tightens as the words catch up to me. He could’ve died. He almost did. And it’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved, if I’d just kept my distance like I told myself to, none of this would’ve happened.
I close my eyes, letting the weight of the guilt press down on me. “I’m so sorry, Julian,” I murmur, the tears spilling over.
The hours stretch on and exhaustion eventually pulls me under. I must fall asleep at some point because the next thing I know, I’m startled awake by the faintest sound—a groan.
My head snaps up and my heart leaps into my throat. Julian’s eyes flutter open, his gaze unfocused but searching.
“Julian,” I breathe, my voice trembling. I shoot out of the chair and lean over him. “You’re awake.”
He blinks slowly, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound comes out. His hand twitches weakly in mine, and I squeeze it, relief flooding through me.
“Hey, don’t try to talk,” I say quickly, brushing a hand through his messy hair. “You’re still...you’re still recovering.”
His gaze finds mine, hazy but steady, and something in my chest cracks wide open. The words I’ve been holding back all night spill out before I can stop them.
“I thought I lost you,” I say, my voice breaking. “And it scared the hell out of me because I...because I can’t lose you, Julian. I can’t.”
He blinks again, his brow furrowing slightly, like he’s trying to piece together what I’m saying.
“I know I’m not supposed to feel this way,” I continue, the tears coming faster now. “But I do. I have since the moment you came crashing into my life, all cocky smiles and stupid charm.” I let out a shaky laugh and wipe at my face. “And I’m so mad at you for getting yourself hurt, but I’m even more mad at myself for never telling you how I feel.”
Julian’s fingers tighten around mine, weak but deliberate. His lips move, forming a single word: “Felix.”
“I love you,” I say, the confession tumbling out in a rush. “God, I love you so much, and I don’t care what your family thinks, or anyone else. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”
Julian’s eyes glisten as his lips twitch into the faintest of smiles. “Idiot,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible but laced with affection.
I let out a shaky laugh and lean closer, my forehead brushing against his. “Yeah, well, takes one to know one.”
For a moment, we just stay like that, breathing each other in. Then, slowly, he tilts his head up, and our lips meet in the softest, most fragile kiss.
It’s not like the ones we’ve shared before—those were full of heat and want and desperation. This one is different. It’s tender, filled with everything I’ve been too afraid to say and everything he’s too weak to put into words.
When we finally pull apart, his eyes drift closed again, exhaustion overtaking him.
“Felix,” he whispers, his voice slurred with fatigue.
“Yeah?” I say, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand.
“Don’t leave.”
“I won’t,” I promise, and press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m right here.”
He falls asleep moments later, and I sink back into the chair, his hand still clasped in mine. For the first time in hours, my heart feels steady. He’s alive, and he knows how I feel. That’s enough for now.