CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
SAINT
Mason’s body lies still on the hospital bed.
He’d gotten out of surgery a day ago. The monitor by his bed beeps steadily.
He hasn’t woken up in two days. Since he slipped out of my arms and embraced death whilst bleeding out in front of the house we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
I don’t want to think about it.
That specific helplessness of losing someone who means so much. But every time I close my eyes, that’s all I can see.
Cross had driven straight from the mansion to my house since Virgil said he was staying the night at the family house.
The first thing I recall is seeing Bernard lying beside the car, head split by a gun’s impact.
He was still alive and breathing, just unconscious.
I can’t explain the level of visceral dread that sank its claws into me when I saw two motionless bodies.
I hurry toward them, feet stomping against the ground as I crash to my knees in front of Mason.
His eyes are barely open. His hands are firmly planted on the bullet wound in his stomach.
Terror detonates in my chest, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs.
My hands circle his neck to hold his head up as he blinks at me.
“Mason.” A cold, animalistic fear drifts down my spine. My hands tremble around his feeble, dying body. I tear my gaze away from him and look ahead. “Cross! Cross, I need to get him to the hospital.” My voice is too rough, suffocated by the terror that roots me in place.
“I…” Mason chokes with emotion.
“I know. I know.” Veins stretch beneath my skin. Pressure builds behind my eyes until it becomes intolerable, and the tears flow, blurring my vision. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” I’m not sure if I believe the words coming out of my mouth.
I’m too lost in this powerlessness that I don’t know when Cross closes the distance between us. He slumps to his knees beside me and checks for a pulse.
“It’s faint. Come on, hand him over to me. I can drive to the hospital.” He looks at me and casts a glance at the dead body beside Mason. “You need to take care of this. Call a cleaner.”
I don’t respond.
Everything about him that makes life better and beautiful is falling apart in my eyes.
“Saint!” Cross roars at me and places his hand on my shoulder. “If you want him to survive, we need to move now.”
“Hmm.” I let Mason’s fragile body go, and Cross snatches him up into his arms, and he scampers toward the car.
I’m on my knees even when he drives away. How did this happen? Only a few hours ago, we were together at the wedding. The night didn’t go exactly well, but still.
Anger burns in my blood when I realize he had killed the unrecognizable man lying in front of our house.
The motherfucker came here to take what’s mine. If he weren’t dead, I’d drive him to the hospital myself and get him fixed, then torture him for the rest of his life.
I pick myself up and regain my footing. I reach into my pocket and take out my phone, staring at the screen. All I see is blood and pain. I unlock my phone and type in the number, sending the call.
Beep. Beep.
Her voice comes in a second after she receives the call.
Frustration and hopelessness ravage my voice when I try to speak up. “I need you to meet me here. I’ve got a job for you.”
“Right, sir. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
After a while, she arrives in her car, and she walks toward me, looking down at the body in disgust. “This is nasty.”
“Get it done. Inside the house, too.” My voice carries the trace of a hollow, battered man.
“You’ve got it, boss.” She returns to her car to get her cleaning supplies and starts with the man’s body.
Exhaustion weighs on me. My legs are unsteady as I trudge up to the house. I walk through the door and shut it behind me, striding to the liquor display to pour myself a drink.
Dark brown liquid flows into the crystal glass until it pours over the polished surface.
I wrap my quaking hands around the stem.
The glass slips from my hand and falls on the floor.
I leave everything behind and stride out of the house.
The cleaner’s already bagging the dead man’s body.
As I approach the car, Bernard coughs, slowly sitting up as he holds his head.
He surges to his feet and looks around in confusion.
“When did you get here, sir?”
“What the fuck were you doing?” My hands fasten around his collar, and I shove him against the car. “You were supposed to protect him!” I yell into his face, hands shaking around him.
“The last thing I remember…”
“I don’t give a fuck. Now get in the damn car and drive me to the hospital.” I let him go, too angry to control my thoughts. I yank the door open and enter the car. He circles the bonnet and gets in, turning on the engine and driving out of the premises.
It doesn’t take long for us to get to the hospital. I text Cross to ask him where he is, and he asks me to come up to the third floor of the building. He’s pacing the hallway when I arrive. Through the door, I see doctors performing surgery on Mason.
“How long have they been in there?”
“Almost thirty minutes. The doctor says he lost a lot of blood.” Cross explains.
“Fuck.” I run my hands over my head.
“We just have to wait and see.”
After a while, the doctor appears through the door with a painful smile on his lips. “Is he okay?” I demand and surge to my feet, heart thudding ferociously in my chest as I await his verdict.
“Unfortunately, he lost a lot of blood, and—”
“Is he dead?” I ask.
“He died once, but we revived him.” He gazes at me. “The surgery was successful, and he needs time to rest and recover until he’s awake.”
“So, he’s fine.”
“Yes.”
Relief washes over me in a terrifying jolt. I extend my hand to the doctor, and he holds mine in a firm grip. “Can I see him?”
“Soon. The nurses need to move him out of the surgery room.”
“Hmm.” I smile at him and settle down on the bench in the hallway. The doctor returns to the room to finish up with his team while Cross comes to sit beside me.
“He’ll be fine,” Cross says confidently, and I almost believe him.
He died. He fucking died.
Cross swings his hand around my shoulder and leans closer. “I promise.”
I sigh and give him a nod, even though a part of me is terrified of losing him.
The hospital walls bleed back in, and my memories retreat. I had thought that after two days of sitting at his bedside watching over him, the hollow ache in my chest would lessen. But it hasn’t. I’d only stepped out a few times to take calls from my father and Prince Kane.
I have to admit an axe split my heart right at that moment I found Mason barely alive.
I lean backward on the chair, head hanging low as I cross my arms on my thighs. A soft whimper follows, and my gaze snaps upward, every sense on alert.
Mason grunts, eyes flickering open, welcoming the light. I pull the chair closer to him, and he turns toward me at the sound. My lips lift into a smile, but his face contorts with an unreadable expression. “Mason, are you okay?”
He doesn’t answer. His chest expands, and he exhales with a whimper. “My body still hurts.” He answers after a pause.
“It’s normal to feel that way. You lost a lot of blood.”
“I think I woke up before, but no one answered.” He mutters, looking up at the ceiling.
“I should call the doctor.”
“I’m fine.” He extends his hand toward me. “Just stay here.” Electric sparks against my skin, and life floods into every cell in my body. The unfilled ache in my chest lessens, making it easier to breathe.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I close my hand around his arm.
“Can I have your jacket?” His voice cracks. He finally looks at me.
“Yes, of course, anything you want.” I shrug off my jacket and get on my feet. I drape it over his body, and his lips stretch into a soft smile. His fingers clamp the fabric, and he pulls it closer. “Feel better?”
“Yes, thanks.”
I nod and settle down in the chair. “I don’t want to go back there.” His jaw locks. “Saint, I have… I’m…”
“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you, baby.
I have always got you.” I grin, tears forming in my eyes.
Days ago, I was too fucking terrified I wouldn’t see him again.
I was holding him in my arms while he was slipping away.
All my life, I have never felt as hopeless as I did when I found him lying there.
But with him awake now, alive and in recovery, the heavy weight on my chest lifts slowly.
In this moment, the only thing that matters to me is his health. Not what he had done or who he was. But him. Only him. I don’t care if I’m breaking the family rules. I’m not losing the man my heart and soul beat and burn for.
No one will ever get close enough to hurt him again.
Sometime later, the door squeaks, and the doctor steps into the space in a white jacket. He looks over at the file in his hands before his gaze flickers up to me. “He’s awake.”
“Yeah, about thirty minutes ago.”
“You should have called me.” He reprimanded.
“He wanted to be left alone.”
The doctor bites his lower lip in frustration and turns his attention to Mason. “Do you feel pain anywhere?”
“Yeah, my stomach and my back.”
“You’ll be fine, okay?” He leans in and touches him with a smile. “Is there anything you’d like?” He asks.
“No, thank you.” The doctor straightens up and scribbles something on his clipboard. “He’ll need to stay for a few more days. We have to monitor his health and progress.”
“Alright.” I nod. He exits afterward.
Silence settles between us, but all I can think of is how relieved I am that he survived. He pushed through everything, and he came back to me.
“Can you come up here?” His voice cracks through.
“Yeah.” I get up and slide into the bed, wrapping my hand around his body. His head rests on my chest, and I press a kiss on his shoulder. “I’m always here, baby.” I promise.
He doesn’t utter a word. He doesn’t have to. All he needs is rest, and when it’s time to face everything that happened, I’ll be there for him.