Chapter 58 The Empty House
"Where is he?"
Mrs. Kozlov's hands trembled around the suitcase handle. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Swollen. She'd been crying for hours, maybe days.
"I can't tell you that. He made me promise."
Cedric stared at the letter in his hands. The words blurred together: I'M SORRY. YOU DESERVE BETTER. PLEASE DON'T LOOK FOR ME. He'd read it three times now. Each time felt like swallowing glass.
The check lay on the floor where it had fallen. $500,000. Blood money. Guilt money. The exact price of his father's debt.
The exact price Gianni thought their love was worth.
"Mrs. Kozlov." His voice came out flat. Dead. "Please."
She looked at him. Really looked. At the hospital gown hanging off his thin frame. At the bandages visible beneath the open collar. At the IV port still taped to his hand, angry and red where he'd ripped the line out.
"He's destroying himself, Mr. Santos." Her voice broke. "Marco says he hasn't eaten in days. He's at the old estate. The one in Staten Island. Drinking himself into oblivion."
The moment she left, Cedric moved.
Pain exploded through his chest as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. White-hot and vicious. His vision grayed at the edges. The room tilted.
He gripped the bed rail. Breathed through it. Counted to ten.
The door opened.
"What are you doing?" Linda's voice went sharp. Panicked. "You can't leave yet, you're still..."
"I have to go to him, Ma."
"No." She crossed the room in three strides. Grabbed his arm. "Absolutely not. That man nearly got you killed."
"That man saved my life." Cedric pulled his shirt from the bag Mrs. Kozlov had left. Every movement was agony. "And now he's trying to save it again by leaving me, and I won't let him."
He gasped as he pulled the shirt over his head. The fabric dragged across the bandages. Fresh blood seeped through.
Linda's hands flew to stop him. "Cedric, please..."
"I love him." He met her eyes. Held them. "I know you don't understand. I know you think I'm making a mistake. But I need you to trust me. Please."
She went very still.
Something flickered across her face. Recognition, maybe. Or memory.
"You're just like me," she said softly. Her hands moved to help him button his shirt. "Stubborn. Willing to fight for what you love even when it's hard." She paused. "When everyone told me not to marry your father, I did it anyway. I fought for him. Even when it was hard."
"Ma..."
"But if you're going to do this, you're doing it right." She turned. "Lily, come here."
Lily appeared in the doorway. Clutching the stuffed dog Gianni had given her. The one he'd rescued from the fighting ring.
Linda knelt in front of her. "Baby, Cedric is going to go get someone very important to him. And he needs to know you're okay with that. Can you show him?"
Lily looked at Cedric for a long moment.
Her eyes were so big. So serious.
Then, in a small, quiet voice, the first words she'd spoken in six years: "Go get him, Ceddy. Bring him home."
Cedric's knees nearly buckled.
Tears fell freely down his face. He couldn't stop them. Didn't want to.
Linda was crying too. Smiling and crying at the same time.
"I will," Cedric whispered. "I promise."
\---
The Uber driver kept looking at him in the rearview mirror.
"You sure you don't need a hospital, man? You look real pale."
"Just drive." Cedric pressed his hand to his side. The bandages were warm. Wet. "Staten Island. I'll pay double."
"You're bleeding."
"I know. Just drive."
The estate loomed in the darkness. All Gothic spires and old money. A monument to sins that stretched back generations.
Every window was dark except one.
The study. Where Gianni's father used to work. Where he'd planned hits and laundered money and built an empire on blood.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, the house felt like a mausoleum. Beautiful and dead. Marble floors that echoed with every step. Crystal chandeliers dark and silent.
Cedric found him exactly where Mrs. Kozlov said he'd be.
Gianni sat in his father's chair. A bottle of whiskey in one hand. Unshaven. Hollow-eyed. Looking like he hadn't slept in days.
He looked up when Cedric entered.
Went absolutely white.
"You shouldn't be here." The bottle slipped from his fingers. Hit the floor. Amber liquid spread across the Persian rug. "You should be in the hospital. You should be..."
"Shut up." Cedric crossed the room. Each step sent fire through his chest. "Just shut up and listen."
"Cedric, you're bleeding..."
"I said shut up."
Gianni stood. Unsteady on his feet. "You got the letter."
"Yeah. I got it."
"Then you understand..."
"You don't get to decide what I deserve." Cedric's voice shook. But his eyes were fierce. "You don't get to push me away 'for my own good.' You don't get to write me a check and disappear like I'm a problem you can throw money at."
"I shot you." Gianni's voice broke. "I put a bullet in your lung. Every time I close my eyes, I see you falling. See the blood. See you dying in my arms. How am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to touch you without seeing that?"
"The same way I live with loving someone who watched my father die." Cedric took another step. His hand pressed harder against his side. "The same way I live with knowing you orchestrated my whole life falling apart just to get close to me. The same way we've lived with every horrible truth so far…we choose to."
"It's not that simple..."
"We choose each other despite everything." Another step. Closer now. "Because love isn't about being perfect or safe or uncomplicated. Love is about choosing someone even when it's hard. Even when it hurts. Even when it's the stupidest, most dangerous thing you could possibly do."
He was close enough to touch.
Gianni was crying. Silent tears tracking through days of stubble.
"I can't keep hurting you."
"Then don't." Cedric reached out. Cupped his face. "Stop pushing me away. Stop trying to protect me from yourself. Just... love me. Let me love you. Let's figure out how to live with what we've done and who we are together. Not apart. Together."
"What if I can't?"
"Then we'll fail together. But at least we tried."
Gianni's hand came up. Trembling. Touched Cedric's face like he was something precious and breakable.
"I don't deserve you."
"Probably not." Cedric smiled. It hurt. Everything hurt. "I don't deserve you either. We're both fucked up. We're both broken. We've both done things we can't take back. But maybe that's exactly why we work. Because we see each other's darkness and we love each other anyway."
Gianni pulled him into a kiss.
Careful. Desperate. Like drowning and breathing all at once.
Something tore inside Cedric's chest.
Hot. Wet. Wrong.
He pulled back. Looked down.
Blood was spreading across his shirt. Fast. Too fast.
"Oh God…" Gianni's face went gray. "Cedric, no, no, no..."
"Well." Cedric swayed slightly. "This is dramatically poor timing."
His knees buckled.
Gianni caught him. Lowered him to the floor.
"Stay with me, don't you dare pass out, I'm calling an ambulance..."
"Don't." Cedric's hand gripped his shirt. Weak. "Don't leave me again. Promise me. No matter what happens next. No more running. No more protecting me from yourself. Promise."
"I promise. I promise, baby, just stay awake, just..."
Sirens in the distance. Growing closer.
Cedric smiled faintly. "I knew you'd call them. Always... protecting me..."
His eyes closed.
"CEDRIC!"