Chapter Thirty-Three
Kayne’s knees buckled. One second, he was upright, still holding Chloe, and the next, his weight sagged forward, his body going terrifyingly slack in her arms.
“No, no, no. Kayne.” Panic ripped through her as she grabbed him, lowering him awkwardly to the ground, hands slick with his blood. There was so much of it, dark and spreading beneath the Kevlar vest.
She wiped her hands on her pants and cradled his face between her palms, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks the way she’d seen people do in movies, the way she’d never understood until now. “Hey. Stay with me. Do you hear me? You’re fine. You’re going to be fine.”
The words felt flimsy, even as she said them. She didn’t know whether he could hear her, but she needed him to.
Her voice slipped into a soft croon she didn’t recognize but couldn’t stop, words tumbling out in a steady stream meant as much for her as for him. “You’re strong, and you’re stubborn. You don’t get to leave me here. Not now. Not ever.”
Relentless fear gnawed at her, eating through everything else. She’d faced Aiden’s gun and fought for her life in the dark. None of that compared to this helpless, hollow terror of watching Kayne’s eyes flutter and then close.
Anja was applying pressure to the wound, while Leo ran to the entrance to guide the medics inside. She should probably check on Danica, but she refused to leave Kayne’s side.
Sirens wailed somewhere above them, distant at first, then closer. Someone barked commands, radios crackled, and police and EMT boots pounded down the tunnel.
Hands gently but firmly moved her aside as they worked on Kayne, stripping off his vest and pressing gauze hard against the wound.
Someone asked her name, his name, and what had happened.
The words slid past her, unreal and slippery.
She answered because she had to, because stopping meant thinking too hard about the way Kayne hadn’t opened his eyes.
Danica was rushed past her on a stretcher, bedraggled but conscious, her gaze locking onto Chloe’s for a split second. Chloe squeezed her hand, a silent promise pressed into that touch that everything would be okay.
She didn’t know how to keep it, but she made it anyway.
Kayne was loaded onto a gurney and rushed to the ambulance moments later, with Chloe running close behind.
“I’m coming with him,” she said immediately, already climbing in without waiting for permission. She took his hand as the doors slammed shut.
The ride was a blur of motion and noise. Monitors beeped steadily, and the smell of antiseptic assailed her nose. The EMT’s calm voice called out numbers that made no sense to her. Chloe leaned close, brushing her lips against Kayne’s knuckles.
“You’re okay,” she whispered again and again. “Do you hear me? You’re okay.”
At the hospital, everything sped up and slowed down all at once. The gurney rolled through double doors she wasn’t allowed to follow through, and suddenly his hand was being gently pried from hers.
“I’m sorry,” someone said. “You’ll have to wait here.”
“No,” she breathed, panic flaring hot and sudden. “Please?”
The doors swung shut anyway.
Chloe stood there, shaking and staring at the blank wall where Kayne had disappeared, fear crashing over her in a wave so intense it stole her breath. This was worse than any threat.
A nurse glanced at her as she passed, then did a double-take at the blood on her clothes.
“Is any of that yours?”
Chloe looked down dully. Most of it was Kayne’s. She’d forgotten about the cut on her arm entirely. The nurse followed her gaze and ushered her into triage despite her protests.
The gash was long but relatively shallow. She wouldn’t need stitches, but liquid fire raced through the wound when the nurse cleaned it. Through pain-filled eyes, Chloe glanced at her arm to make sure it was still attached.
The nurse closed the wound with butterfly bandages and wrapped it in gauze. Then she handed her a pair of blue scrubs. Chloe removed her blood-soaked clothes and tossed them in the trash. When she was cleared, she drifted back into the waiting room.
She’d never been so afraid in her life. All she could do now was sit beneath flickering fluorescent lights and pray that the man who had come through concrete walls for her would find his way back.
#
Kayne returned to consciousness as if he’d been fired from a cannon.
He surged upward with a snarl, heart slamming, lungs burning, and every instinct screaming one word.
“Chloe.”
Hands immediately pressed him back down. “Sir, sir, stop. Don’t move.”
His vision swam, white lights streaking overhead, and voices overlapped. He tried to fight it, to sit up again, but pain detonated across his gut that stole his breath.
“Where is she?” he demanded hoarsely. “Where’s Chloe?”
“She’s safe,” someone said firmly. A man in scrubs leaned into his line of sight. “You’re in the hospital. You were stabbed. We need you to stay still.”
Kayne’s jaw clenched. Safe wasn’t the same as here. Safe wasn’t the same as breathing next to him. He tried to push up again and paid for it instantly as heat flared under the bandages, fierce enough to make his vision tunnel.
“Don’t,” another voice warned. “You’re bleeding internally. We’re fixing it.”
Bleeding internally sounded bad. Terminally bad, if his body had any say.
Chloe wasn’t in the room.
Panic clawed up his throat.
He forced his head to turn, scanning past faces and equipment, but the room smeared and tilted. A crushing heaviness settled over him.
“No,” he muttered. “Not yet. Gotta—”
The world went dark.
The next time he surfaced, it was slower. Quieter. The beeping was steady now, distant but reassuring. The pain was dulled to a deep throbbing ache instead of the intense agony from before. He blinked, eyelids heavy as sandbags, and turned his head.
There she was.
Chloe was sitting in the chair beside the bed, arched forward, her fingers laced tightly around his hand. Her eyes were red, her lashes clumped, and her face pale, exhausted, and devastatingly beautiful.
He registered all of it in a rush that made his chest ache worse than the wound
“Hey,” he murmured.
Her head snapped up.
For half a second, she just stared at him, as if she was afraid he wasn’t real. Then her face crumpled and broke into a watery smile all at once.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, standing too fast, then catching herself as she leaned over him. “You’re awake. You’re really awake.”
He hated that she’d been crying, that he’d put that fear on her.
“I’m okay,” he said, though it came out rough. “You okay?”
She let out a soft, shaky laugh. “You’re unbelievable. Yes, I’m okay, thanks to you.”
He lifted their joined hands as much as the tubes and wires would allow. “Didn’t mean to scare you, cher.”
Her lips trembled. “Well, you did. You scared me half to death.”
That cut deeper than the knife had.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. “Don’t. You saved my life. Again.”
He wanted to tell her a thousand things. That he’d do it again in a heartbeat. That he’d blast through a hundred concrete walls if it meant getting to her. That he wasn’t built to lose her.
That he loved her.
But the fog was creeping back in. He felt it tugging at his thoughts and his eyelids, the drug cocktail doing exactly what it was designed to do.
“Stay,” he murmured, fighting it. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’m right here,” she promised immediately. “I’m not leaving.”
Her face blurred at the edges. He focused on her eyes and the warmth of her hand, anchoring himself to her presence as long as he could.
“That’s good,” he whispered. “I like that.”
The darkness pulled him under again, gentler this time. Kayne let it because Chloe was there when he went, and he trusted she’d be there when he came back.
#
Chloe cried as if her body had been holding it in for years.
Silent tears slipped sideways onto the hospital pillow as she sat curled in the chair beside Kayne’s bed, one hand wrapped around his, afraid to let go even now.
Her body ached with relief so sharp it hurt.
Fear finally loosened its grip now that the doctors had said the words she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath for.
He was going to be okay.
The truth of it cracked something open inside her, and suddenly the tears wouldn’t stop. They came fast and hot, sliding down her face unchecked.
She pressed her forehead briefly to the back of Kayne’s hand and breathed, letting the moment take her where it needed to.
When the door opened, she startled and swiped at her cheeks. Anja and Leo stepped inside with the quiet awareness of people who understood exactly what kind of moment they were walking into.
“You don’t have to move,” Leo said immediately, hands up in surrender.
Chloe shook her head, easing to her feet anyway. She bent and brushed a soft kiss against Kayne’s cheek, then gently set his hand back on the bed.
Leo hugged her fiercely, and she felt the terror he’d lived through when Aiden had her. She hated that he’d had to endure it, but she was so grateful he was here with her now. Anja embraced her next, and it was quick but reassuring.
“I just—” her voice wobbled. She cleared her throat. “I need a second.”
They stepped into the hallway together, the door clicking shut behind them.
Anja leaned against the wall, arms crossed, posture relaxed but eyes alert as always. “He’s stable,” she said. “Doctors say he’ll be fine.”
Chloe nodded, another rush of tears threatening. “Thank you. For everything. For him.”
Anja dipped her chin once. “Police are handled for now, but you’re going to need to talk to them. Aiden said things to you we need documented.”
“I know,” Chloe said quietly. The weight of it settled back onto her shoulders. “I’ll tell them everything.”
Leo squeezed her arm. “We’ll be there with you.”
She nodded again, grateful beyond words.
“Will you watch over him? There’s something I need to do.”
“Of course,” Anja said.
Leo gave her another quick hug.
Chloe stepped away, her feet carrying her down the hall almost of their own volition.
Danica’s room was quiet when she slipped inside. Her sister lay pale against the white sheets, an IV line taped neatly to her arm and saline dripping steadily into her system. Severe dehydration, the doctor had said. Not life-threatening, but close enough to scare Chloe all over again.
Danica turned her head when Chloe entered, eyes filling immediately.
“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she whispered.
Chloe pulled a chair closer and sat. “Of course I came.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, the air heavy with unspoken words.
Danica broke first.
“I was jealous,” she said, her voice flat with exhaustion and stripped bare.
There was no hint of defensiveness or pleading.
“So jealous it made me ugly inside. I hated watching you succeed while I felt like I was disappearing. I was insecure and ashamed. And instead of dealing with it, I took it out on you.”
Chloe stayed silent.
“I altered the picture and left it on your car,” she said quietly. “I told myself it was harmless. That I was just leveling the field.” A bitter huff of a laugh escaped her. “It wasn’t.”
Chloe’s breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt.
“And after I met Kayne . . .” Danica swallowed hard. “That’s when I snapped. I saw the way you looked at him and how he looked at you.” Her eyes flicked up, shiny. “I followed you that night. I don’t even remember deciding to hit you. I just did. I tried to scare you.”
Oh, God, it was Danica. She had tried to run her over.
She didn’t say the words, but they were there, heavy and unmistakable.
Chloe’s nails bit into her palms.
“I broke into your apartment,” Danica went on with her litany of crimes, the shame finally cracking her voice. “I needed proof that I still mattered somehow. That I could get close to you if I wanted to.” She shook her head. “God, listen to me. That’s not love. That’s sickness.”
Silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. Chloe didn’t trust herself to speak.
“I kept telling myself I just needed a win,” Danica whispered. “One thing. But the truth is, I need help. Real help.”
Emotion clogged in Chloe’s throat.
“I’m going to therapy,” Danica announced. “And I’m taking time away. From you and from everything.” Her gaze dropped. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
Chloe drew in a slow breath. Then another. The aching knot in her throat filled with anger, grief, and betrayal finally loosened enough to let air through.
“I forgive you,” she said.
Danica looked up, startled, as if she hadn’t allowed herself to hope for that outcome.
Chloe didn’t smile. Forgiveness didn’t mean forgetting. It didn’t mean excusing. It meant she was done carrying Danica’s poison inside her own body.
“But this is the last time you get to choose pain for me,” Chloe added softly.
Danica nodded, tears slipping free at last.
Chloe reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand. “I love you. That hasn’t changed.”
When she left the room, Chloe felt lighter. Not healed or fixed, but steadier. Stronger in a quieter way. Maybe Danica would get better. Maybe not. But Chloe was done feeling guilty about their relationship.
She returned to Kayne’s bedside and sank back into the chair, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. For the first time since this nightmare began, she believed the future might be something she could step into without fear.
She stayed right there, keeping watch, because love, she was learning, wasn’t just about surviving the danger. It was about choosing what came after.