Page 306 of Ricardo

He wasn't afraid that he was dying. He was afraid he would die before she was safe.

I thought I understood the depth of the friendship between Dante and Julia.

But this...

This is something different entirely.

It's love, but not the romantic kind.

It's something pure.

A bond as deep as blood but outside of it, somehow.

For the first time, I realize the depth of my betrayal and just how badly I messed up.

Regardless, I can't regret my relationship with her. I'm not capable of it. But I can regret the way I handled it.

I reach out and rest my hand on top of his head. His hair is damp and plastered to his forehead. I gently push it back.

He doesn't pull away.

He leans into my touch.

Like he did when he was a small boy and scraped his knee. Or when he was a teenager and his heart was broken for the first time.

Like he knows I will make it right.

And I will.

"They didn't," I say.

His eyes close for a moment.

When he opens them again, I can see the exhaustion is starting to pull at him again.

"Sleep," I say.

He shakes his head, a slight movement against my hand.

After a moment of silence, he says, "Sorry."

The word tears me apart.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Punch," he says after another long moment, but his words are starting to slur as sleep calls him back.

I shake my head.

"I deserved that and more," I say, my own words thick with emotion. "Don't worry about it."

He wants to say something else, but the words won't come. He tries again.

"Sleep," I repeat, my hand still on his head.

Behind me, there's a soft shifting of material, and I know Julia has just woken.

Dante's eyes slide over to her, just slits now.