John took the stairs two at a time, heading up to the roof. It was the one place in the whole hospital where he could have some privacy. The sunshine blanketed his face the second he rushed out to the helicopter med bay, which was currently empty. He sucked in giant gulps of air, eyes straining upward to the bright blueskies as he walked to the edge of the building that overlooked the sprawling city and feeling small in comparison.
He loved Wyatt.
He loved that cowboy doctor more than anything else.
And he could’ve lost him. It happened so quickly. One minute, he was thinking about asking him to move in, and the next, he was watching a man hold him at knife point. Life, he realized, would never be in his control. Maybe that was the point. And maybe he wasn’t supposed to be perfect, either. Because it was a fucking mess. Life was supposed to be hard, messy, beautiful, wonderful, painful—all of it.
Controlling his heart had been an illusion all along.
It took loving Wyatt for him to finally see it.
John glanced down at the edge he stood close to and once more scrubbed his hands over his face, thinking about Wyatt… his brother… his family…
He somehow could feel Jacob. He could feel the weight of death pressing onto his shoulders and how fragile life could be.
“Johnny,” the wind seemed to whisper. He glanced over his shoulder on the ledge and saw him—Jacob. He was dressed the way he remembered him. Casual, loose-fitting jeans, a band T-shirt, and his dark hair brushed back from his strikingly handsome face with the haunted blue eyes that just didn’t seem to belong.
Jacob, young and alive, was standing in the sunlight with him on the edge of the world. And then, without hesitation, he stepped off. John sucked in a harsh breath, watching his brother fall. His gut swooped and his heart kicked, but he didn’t follow—he couldn’t. He had so many reasons to stay.
So many reasons to live.
And one reason was inside, sitting on a hospital gurney, asking him to stay.
John stumbled backward from the ledge, his knees buckling as he sank into himself and cried.
Chapter 18
Wyatt
Jin pushed the dry turkey meat on his plate, a grim line tugging down his mouth. “You’re really doing this…?”Wyatt glanced up from his dinner plate and finished the bite of mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Yeah.”
“What can I do to make you stay?”
Surprised, Wyatt tilted his chin back. “You care that much?”
“Of course. I may have avoidant attachment tendencies that make it look like I don’t care, but I do. According to my therapist, anyway.”
Wyatt snorted a laugh. It was the first genuine laugh he had all week since the incident. “Flight’s already booked.”
“You don’t owe them anything.”
“It’s my decision.”
“It’s not. It’s heartbreak deciding for you. And it's stupid.”
“I’ll come back,” Wyatt reassured, knowing it was true.
After the attack at the hospital, he realized two things. One, he couldn’t keep ignoring his father. He needed to confront his past, or else he would never be free from it. And he needed to be, because he felt contentment, peace even, whenever he was with John. Which then led him to the next epiphany, when John had come to his rescue. His capable, calm captain, ready to protect and defend, had without hesitation been willing to take on the knife-wielding maniac for him.
Wyatt, in that instant, realized that his love was fiercely fucking protective.
Seeing John put himself in just as much danger terrified him because he couldn’t imagine a world where John didn’t exist. So, Wyatt had done the onlything he could to keep the attention on him. He showed the man with the knife pressed against his throat his fear, and that was enough to snap him, just like he probably snapped with his elderly mother when she showed fear toward him. Predators always responded to fear. But Wyatt hadn’t been fast enough and had felt the blade knick his throat as he jumped out of the way. The next thing he had seen was John on top of the man, holding the blade, his expression almost unrecognizable.
He knew John didn’t have a violent bone in his body, and yet, he should’ve. The most sensitive people, the most loving and loyal, could also be the most violent. Their empathy made them understand and feel everything so intensely. It was the reason Wyatt had fallen so fast and hard for him.
Wyatt had breathed a sigh of relief when John tossed the blade aside.
No one had ever come to his defense like that.
