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I wasn’t good at waiting.
"Fuck," Bash muttered under his breath. He was pacing back and forth, his face ashen. "This is all my fault."
I shook my head vehemently, trying to convince myself as much as him. "No, Bash," I refuted firmly. "This isn't your fault. This is on the De Lucas."
"But if I wasn't so focused on getting married...if I wasn't so hell-bent on doing this, then he wouldn't have attacked us," Bash said. "I should have seen this coming."
"No," Justice cut in sharply, her voice carrying an edge that made us both stop. "Don't you dare, Bash." Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, but fiery with resolve. "This isn't on you. I wanted this wedding just as much as you did. And we knew the risks."
"And they came to get Sebastian," I said. "They didn't get him. They didn't get him."
Justice nodded, her gaze steeling as she anchored herself in that one victory. “Right. They didn’t get Sebastian. And Zane’s going to pull through.”
We fell into silence, each lost in our own tumultuous thoughts, the hospital corridor our temporary sanctuary against the chaos beyond its walls.
I really, really hoped Zane was okay.
Because I had no idea how I was going to do any of this without him.
Chapter Twenty: Hassan
Icould still hear sirens in my head.
We were in my apartment in Brickell, the safest place I could think of. The walls were thick enough to block out the noise from outside, but not enough to quell the ringing in my ears. Sebastian was curled up in my lap, his small body shuddering with the aftermath of the day's events. His face was smeared with his tears, and he was still clutching the little toy car he always held.
A call from Bash had brought news; it wasn't good. Zane was shot. He was in surgery now while we were holed up in this haven, hiding from the war that raged on outside. My heart hammered in my chest, trying my best to stay calm for the baby.
I looked down at Sebastian, his innocent eyes clouded with fear. His grip tightened around his toy car, a small anchor of normalcy in the midst of the turmoil. "Hey, baby boy," I whispered, brushing a curl from his forehead. "You okay? You want some juice maybe?"
Sebastian blinked up at me, confusion etched into every line of his tiny face. He didn't understand what was going on, and I didn't blame him. How do you explain to a little kid that the men he should call family might not be around anymore?
I got up from the floor carefully, making sure not to disturb Sebastian. He was still holding onto me when I made him some apple juice, an attempt to bring some semblance of normalcy into the nightmare we found ourselves caught in. The silence was suffocating but there was comfort in it too; it meant we were safe for now–safe from gunshots and violent men thirsting for power.
I looked at his little face, his long eyelashes casting shadows down his pale cheeks. "Were you scared?" I asked him.
He blinked his big brown eyes at me, those eyes that were far too innocent for the world we lived in. He nodded, his chubby little fingers curling around the juice box.
"That's okay," I whispered, wrapping an arm around his tiny body. "I was scared too."
His eyes widened at that, surprise replacing the lingering fear. "You were?" he asked. "You get scared, Tío Sol?"
I chuckled lightly, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, baby boy. Even Tío Sol gets scared sometimes. It's okay to be scared."
He seemed to contemplate on my words for a moment, his little brows furrowing in thought. Then he sighed softly, cuddling closer to me. "I don't want you to be scared," he mumbled, his voice muffled against my shirt.
I felt a pang in my chest at his words–this little boy, so concerned for me when he should be the one being comforted. "I know, kiddo," I murmured, hugging him a bit tighter. "But it's going to be okay, alright? We're safe here."
Sebastian didn't reply but he nodded against my chest and I could feel his body relax a little bit. He was just as exhausted as I was–we both needed some rest but the adrenaline from the earlier events still had its claws sunk deep into me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out and saw Bash's name flashing on the screen. My heart lurched in my chest. "Hey," I greeted, trying to hide the fear that colored my voice.
"Hassan," Bash's voice was strained on the other end. "How are you holding up? How's Sebastian?"
"We're okay," I replied, glancing down at Sebastian who was starting to doze off on my lap, his grip on his toy car finally loosening. "Any news on Zane?"
Bash sighed heavily into the receiver. "Still in surgery." The words carried a heavy weight of uncertainty and dread, echoing our shared fear.
"And Vito?" I asked, already anticipating the answer.
