Chapter 66 Chapter 66

Chapter 66 Chapter 66

CASSIAN'S POV

The light was too bright.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. The room was white. Too white. The walls. The ceiling. The sheets on the bed. The machines beeping beside me. The smell of antiseptic and something sterile.

Hospital.

I was in a hospital.

I tried to move. My body was heavy. My arms felt like lead. My legs would not respond. My chest ached. A dull, throbbing pain that radiated through my entire torso.

I looked down. Bandages. Wrapped around my chest. White. Clean. There was a tube in my arm. An IV. Fluids dripping into my veins.

What happened?

I tried to remember. The warehouse. The ropes. My father's face. The gun. The shot.

The shot.

I had been shot.

I should be dead.

I turned my head. The movement was slow. Painful. My neck cracked. My vision blurred.

He was sitting in the chair beside my bed.

Dominic.

His head was bowed. His shoulders were slumped. His hands were clasped between his knees. His hair was a mess. His clothes were wrinkled. His face was pale. There were dark circles under his eyes. Deep. Purple. Like he had not slept in weeks.

He looked like a ghost.

"Dominic," I said.

My voice was hoarse. Barely a whisper. The machines beeped louder. My throat burned.

He did not move.

"Dominic."

He looked up. His eyes were red. Bloodshot. There were tears streaming down his face. Silent tears. They rolled down his cheeks and fell onto his hands.

He was crying.

"Cassian," he said. His voice was broken. Cracked. Like he had been screaming for days.

"Dominic."

He stood up. His legs were unsteady. He stumbled toward the bed. Fell to his knees beside me. His hands grabbed mine. His grip was desperate. Painful. His face pressed into my hand. His shoulders shook.

"I thought you were dead," he said. His voice was muffled. Wet. "I thought you were dead, Cassian. I thought I lost you. I thought I lost you forever."

"Dominic."

"I cannot lose you. I cannot. I will not. I will not survive it."

He was sobbing. Ugly, broken sobs that wracked his entire body. His tears were soaking my hand. His shoulders were shaking. He looked like a child. A broken, terrified child.

I reached up. My hand was shaking. My fingers were weak. I touched his hair. It was greasy. Mat. He had not washed it in days.

"Dominic," I said again.

He looked up. His face was a mess. Red eyes. Snot running down his nose. Tears streaming down his cheeks. His lips were cracked. His skin was pale. He looked like he had not eaten in days. He probably had not.

"I am okay," I said.

"You are not okay. You were shot. You almost died. You were dead, Cassian. You were dead for three minutes."

Three minutes.

I had been dead for three minutes.

"I am okay now," I said.

He shook his head. He was still crying. His hands were still gripping mine.

"Do not ever do that again," he said. "Do not ever leave me again. I cannot do it. I cannot. I will not survive."

I looked at him. At this broken, desperate man who had done terrible things. Who had hurt me. Who had destroyed me. Who had also loved me more than anyone ever had.

"I am sorry," I said.

"Do not be sorry. Just stay. Just stay with me. Please."

"I am not going anywhere."

He pulled me into his arms. His embrace was desperate. Painful. He was crushing me. My chest ached. My ribs screamed. But I did not push him away.

He cried into my shoulder. Great, heaving sobs that shook his entire body. His hands were fisted in my hospital gown. His face was pressed into my neck.

I pat his back. Slow. Gentle. Like he was a child. Like he was something fragile that might break.

"It is okay," I said. "I am here. I am okay."

He did not stop crying. He just held me tighter.

I held him back.

\---

A week passed.

The doctors said I was lucky. The bullet had missed my heart by inches. I had lost a lot of blood. I had been in surgery for hours. I had been dead for three minutes.

But I was alive.

Dominic did not leave my side. He slept in the chair beside my bed. He ate hospital food. He held my hand while I slept. He watched me like he was afraid I would disappear.

I let him.

I was too tired to fight. Too tired to push him away. Too tired to pretend that I did not want him there.

But the guilt was eating me alive.

His mother. Her death. It was my fault. Everything was my fault. If I had never kissed him. If I had never run away. If I had never made him want me. None of this would have happened.

I had destroyed his life. I had killed his mother. I had broken him.

And he was still here. Still holding my hand. Still looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

I could not let him keep doing that.

I could not let him keep loving someone who had ruined his life.

\---

"Dominic," I said one morning.

He looked up from the chair. His eyes were tired. His face was pale. There were dark circles under his eyes. He had not slept well. He never slept well.

"Yeah?"

"I need to tell you something."

He sat up straighter. His eyes were worried.

"What is it?"

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking.

"I am going to leave," I said.

He was quiet.

"What?"

"I am going to leave. I am going to get out of your life. Forever."

He stared at me. His face was blank. Unreadable.

"What are you talking about?"

"Everything. All of it. It was my fault. Your mother. Everything. If I had never kissed you. If I had never run away. None of this would have happened."

"Cassian..."

"You would have been fine. You would have been happy. You would have had a normal life. And I ruined it. I ruined everything."

"Cassian, stop."

"I destroyed your life. I killed your mother. I am the reason you are broken. I am the reason you are like this."

"Cassian."

"I cannot do this anymore. I cannot keep hurting you. I cannot keep ruining your life. I need to leave. I need to get out of your life forever. It is the only way."

He did not respond.

I kept talking. The words spilled out of me like water. All the guilt. All the shame. All the years of blaming him when I should have been blaming myself.

I did not realize he had stopped talking. I did not realize he had gone completely silent. I just kept talking.

"I am sorry," I said. "I am so sorry. For everything. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to destroy you. I just. I just wanted to be with you. And I ruined everything."

I looked up.

His face was emotionless.

Blank. Empty. Scary.

His eyes were dark. His jaw was tight. His hands were clenched into fists.

"Dominic," I said. My voice was shaking. "Dominic, say something."

He did not say anything. He just stood up. Walked toward me. His footsteps were slow. Deliberate. Like a predator stalking its prey.

"Dominic."

He leaned down. Grabbed my face in his hands. His grip was firm. Unyielding. He kissed me.

It was not rough. It was not angry. It was desperate. Gentle. Like he was afraid of hurting me. Like he knew I was still broken.

I did not fight him. I could not.

When he pulled back, his face was still close to mine. His forehead was pressed against my forehead. His nose touched my nose. His hands were still holding my face.

"You better take that back, Cassian," he said. His voice was dangerously low. "You belong the fuck to me. And I will kill you and then myself if you ever try to leave my side."