Zaddie’s POV
Luca rushed Lazaro to the hospital. I could have runaway but I fucking can’t. He was barely conscious, his head resting against my shoulder, his breath shallow and uneven. A paramedic worked quickly, barking instructions I couldn’t process, his gloved hands stained red with Lazaro’s blood.
I couldn’t look away from his face. He saved me. He took the bullet without thinking, as if I mattered more than his own life. And now he was slipping.
“Zadie...” His voice was hoarse, barely audible beneath the whirring of the vehicle and the chaos around us. But I heard it like it was the only sound that mattered.
“I’m here,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.” His eyelids fluttered open. His gaze found mine, glassy and desperate.
“Stay,” he murmured. “Promise me. Don’t leave me.” My chest tightened so hard I thought it would cave in.
“I promise,” I said, though my voice shook. “Just hold on, okay? You’ll be alright.”
He tried to nod, but the movement sent a spasm of pain through him. He gritted his teeth, and I leaned closer, brushing his hair back from his damp forehead, trying to soothe him like I could somehow take the pain away.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, and something about that shattered me. Because he never showed fear. Not once. Not even when I hated him. Not even when the world turned against him.
“I won’t let you die,” I whispered. “You hear me? You don’t get to leave me.” But deep down, I knew something else. I was the one who would leave him.
The hospital lights were blinding. They rushed him into the emergency room, and I wasn’t allowed to go any farther. Blood coated my clothes, dried on my arms, soaked into my skin like a mark I couldn’t scrub away. I sat in the hallway for what felt like hours, replaying his voice in my head over and over.
Stay. Don’t leave me. It would’ve been so easy to keep that promise. To stay at his side, wait for him to wake, whisper that I loved him even if I wasn’t sure I deserved to. Even if I wasn’t sure I was ready to say it, the truth sat like a stone in my gut. How could I love someone completely when I didn’t even know the full story?
I didn’t know what role he really played in all this, the rebellion, the betrayal, the lies. I didn’t know who he hurt to build his empire, or how far his hands were stained by things I hadn’t seen. I didn’t even know who I was without the people who used me. And that terrified me.
If I stayed now, it wouldn’t be love. It would be guilt.And that wasn’t fair, to him or to me. So I stood up, walking down the hallway without looking back. My heart screamed at me to turn around. Every step felt like I was walking away from something precious, something real. But I didn’t stop.
I slipped past the main entrance, through the side corridor, blending into the shifting crowd of strangers. No guards yet. Just the sound of my own breath. The echo of my betrayal. When I finally reached the exit, the cold night air slapped me like punishment. I welcomed it.
I took a deep breath, looked back once at the tall building behind me, and whispered, “Forgive me.” Then I ran.
Not because I was afraid of him. But because I wanted to come back not as a liar, not as a weapon, not as a prisoner of doubt. I needed to find the truth. So I could love him without fear.