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I nodded, kissing the top of her head. "Yeah," I said. "I know."
Chapter Nine: Zane
Hassan had gotten so lucky.
He lay there on the table, face a mask of painful resignation as he wrestled with his demons. His skin was a sickly shade of grey, contrasting sharply against the pristine white of the makeshift hospital sheets. I had seen worse, but knowing how close we had come to losing him…it rattled me. He had been hit by debris, flames had licked at his skin. He hadn't had any major burning and that, in itself, was huge.
His once vibrant eyes were now glazed with a mixture of pain and exhaustion, the whites a stark contrast against the purple bruises that had begun to bloom across his battered face. It was a painful sight, but what really got to me was the silent acceptance in his gaze that seemed so out of place on such a young face.
He'd seen too much for his age, experienced horrors that no one should have to endure. And yet, here he was, still fighting.
Again. Again.
Because, for some reason, he always got the worst of it.
I sat on the stool next to Hassan's bed, my eyes fixated on the heart monitor. The steady beep was a comforting sound against the silence of the room. A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back in the chair, running my fingers through my messy hair. I hadn't slept in a while and exhaustion was beginning to take its toll, but I wasn't leaving Hassan's side until I knew he was out of danger.
I heard a soft knock on the door. I barely looked up before I told them to come in.
Justice took a step into the makeshift infirmary, flashing me a tight smile. "How is he doing?"
"Pretty good," I said, getting up from my chair. "All things considered. We should let him get some sleep."
"Agreed," Justice replied, her gaze softening as she looked at Hassan. She stepped up to the side of the bed, gently tapping his hand. "You need rest, Hassan," she told him softly.
There was a slight nod from Hassan and a resigned sigh before his eyes fluttered closed again. Justice leaned down and kissed him on the forehead before stepping back, allowing me to pull the blanket over him. She shot me a questioning look, her brown eyes filled with concern.
"Is there anything else we can do for him?" she asked.
"He needs time," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I tucked the blanket around Hassan. "His body has taken quite a beating, but he's a fighter." I glanced back at her, mustering up a reassuring smile. "He'll pull through."
Justice nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I pray you're right, Zane."
"I am right. This is my job. I don't make promises I can't keep."
Justice nodded, her eyes brimming with gratitude. "Thank you, Zane," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. She cast a final worried look at Hassan before she pressed a kiss against my cheek. "I'll take the next shift, okay? I'll just hang out here and read to him. You've done everything you can. Get some rest."
"Justice..."
"Do it," she replied.
I sighed. "Okay," I said. "Alright, Miss Rosales."
That rare vulnerability in her gaze was a sight only a few got to see, and each time it left me just as undone.
As I watched her settle into the chair I had just vacated, the sweep of her hair around her shoulders, the determined set of her jaw despite tired eyes, I felt my resolve waver. This mess we were dealing with...the storm that was looming on the horizon - it wasn't just about us anymore. It was about her. About Sebastian, about our own family…
The stakes had gone up tenfold.
Skylar was waiting for me by the elevator, in the shadows. We all had different responses to these kinds of things, and Skylar’s was decisively bloodthirsty. In this case, I had a feeling he was going to make things worse.
I was afraid. Afraid of the De Lucas, afraid of Skylar.
Always, always afraid of Bash. Especially now that we had Sebastian.
Skylar’s blue eyes flickered with concern as I approached, his jaw set. "Hassan?" he asked, his voice low.
"Stable," I replied, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. "Justice is with him now."
