Chapter 168 What's Left Standing

Chapter 168 What's Left Standing
Lina was already at the clubhouse door when Cade pulled up, having gotten the message the second Lyra sent it, her face pale under the porch light.

"Where is he," she said, before Cade had even fully stopped the truck.

"Medical room. He's stable, Lina. Just needs stitches, maybe a sling for a while."

She was already moving past him toward the door, and Cade let her go, following at a slower pace, exhaustion finally catching up to every part of him now that the adrenaline had fully drained away.

Renzo was sitting on the exam table when Lina burst in, shirt off on one side again, a fresh line of stitches closing the graze along his shoulder, the doctor just finishing up the wrap.

"You," Lina said, stopping in the doorway, something furious and terrified tangled together in her voice.

"Me," Renzo agreed, wincing as he tried to sit up straighter.

"Don't move like that." She crossed the room fast, hand hovering like she wanted to help but didn't know where it was safe to touch. "What happened."

"Graze. Same shoulder as before." He said it like it was nothing, and that seemed to be exactly the wrong thing to say.

"The same shoulder," Lina repeated, her voice rising. "The one that was already bruised. The one the doctor told you yesterday to take it easy on."

"I did take it easy. As easy as you can take a firefight."

"Renzo."

"What." He looked at her, genuinely confused by the intensity of her reaction, which only seemed to make it worse.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" she said, the words coming out sharp like she'd been holding them back for longer than just today.

"First the bike accident, then the beam that shifted wrong on the fence. Now you get shot in the exact same spot four days later. Is there a pattern here I'm supposed to be missing, or are you just determined to see how many times your body can take a hit before it stops getting back up?"

The room went quiet and the doctor, sensing exactly where this was headed, murmured something about checking on another patient and slipped out, leaving the two of them alone.

Renzo stared at her for a long moment. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Lina's arms were crossed tight now, like she needed something to hold onto. "You throw yourself into every dangerous thing this club does like your own safety is optional. Like it doesn't matter to anyone if you come back in one piece."

"It's my job," Renzo said, quieter now. "Somebody has to be on the front line. That's what I signed up for."

"I know what you signed up for," Lina said, her voice cracking slightly. "I've watched you sign up for it for years. I just don't understand why every single time, it has to be you leading with your body like it's already spent."

Renzo looked at her, something shifting behind his eyes, the confusion fading into something more careful. "Lina."

"Don't," she said quickly. "Don't say my name like that."

"Like what."

"Like you're about to say something that's going to make this worse."

He was quiet for a moment, weighing something. "I don't think I'm trying to hurt myself," he said finally.

"But maybe I stopped being as careful with my own safety a while back."

Lina's eyes filled, and she looked away for a second, composing herself before she spoke again. "That's not a fair trade, Renzo. Your life for everyone else's. That's not how it's supposed to work."

"Maybe not," he said. "But it's how I've been doing it anyway."

"Well, stop." Her voice broke on the word, and she didn't try to hide it this time. "Please, just stop throwing yourself at every dangerous thing like it doesn't matter if you come back."

"It's not that it doesn't matter," Renzo said.

"I just didn't think anyone was counting on me to be careful, not the way you're counting right now."

Lina looked at him, something raw passing over her face. "I've been counting for a long time, Renzo. Longer than you probably realized."

The room went very still. "How long," he asked, quiet.

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

Lina wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for the tears she couldn't seem to stop. "Long enough that watching you get shot today felt like something breaking in my chest that I didn't even know I'd been protecting."

Renzo reached for her hand, careful with his good arm, and she let him take it, her fingers curling into his like she'd been waiting a long time for permission to do exactly that.

"I'll be more careful," he said. "Not because I'm scared for myself but because I understand now that it costs someone something when I'm not."

"That's not a small thing to ask of you," Lina said softly. "I know what this club needs from you."

"It needs me alive more than it needs me reckless," Renzo said. "I think I've been getting that backwards for a long time."



Cade found Lyra in the hallway a few minutes later, his own exhaustion written plain across his face.

"You look like you saw something," he said.

"I think I did," Lyra said carefully, not wanting to overstate what wasn't fully hers to describe. "Lina's with him."

"Good." Cade leaned against the wall beside her. "She should be."

They stood together for a moment, the sounds of the clubhouse settling around them, members filtering in and out, checking on each other, the tension of the day slowly draining into something more bearable.

"Take me home," Lyra said finally. "You look like you're about to fall asleep standing up."

"I might," Cade admitted, managing a tired smile.

The drive back was quiet, both of them worn thin in different ways, the radio low and unremarkable in the background.

When they got in, Cade dropped his jacket by the door and pulled Lyra into him without a word, holding her tight enough that she felt his heartbeat against her cheek, steady now in a way it hadn't been all day. "You're really here," she said softly.

"I'm really here." His voice was rough with exhaustion. "It's over, Lyra. Today's over."

"Garza's not gone, though."

"No," Cade admitted. "But today's battle is done. He retreated." He pulled back just enough to look at her. "That's enough for tonight, tomorrow we figure out what comes next."

Lyra nodded, resting her forehead against his chest again. "I kept thinking about what would happen if you didn't come home," she admitted quietly.

"I know." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I thought about it too. Every time I had a spare second, which wasn't many, honestly."

"What did you think about?"

"You," he said simply. "Waiting here, that's what kept me careful today. Not just survival instinct. You, specifically, waiting for me to come back."

Lyra closed her eyes, letting the words settle warm into her chest. "Then keep thinking about that. Every time. For as long as this takes."

"I will," he said. "I promise."