Chapter 57 The Blame
"You shot me."
Cedric's voice was flat. Empty. Just stating a fact.
Gianni flinched like he'd been slapped.
"I was aiming for Dante. You moved. You dropped and rolled and I was already firing and…" His voice shattered. "I shot you. I almost killed you."
The machines beeped. Steady. Relentless.
Cedric just stared at him.
"Say something." Gianni's hands shook. "Scream at me. Hate me. Something."
"Was Dante aiming at you or me when I dropped?"
"What?"
"When I headbutted him. When I rolled." Cedric's voice was weak but clear. "Was his gun pointed at you or me?"
Gianni's throat worked. "You. He was going to shoot you in the chest."
"Then you saved my life." Cedric's hand squeezed his weakly. "Your bullet hit my lung. His would've hit my heart. You saved me."
"I SHOT you!"
"You saved me." Cedric's eyes burned despite the pain etched in every line of his face. "Stop. I know what you're doing. I can see it on your face. You're going to use this as an excuse to push me away. To punish yourself. To decide I'm better off without you."
"You nearly died because of me…"
"I nearly died because I chose to walk into that warehouse." He coughed. Winced. His whole body went rigid with pain. "My choice. My risk. Not your fault."
Gianni reached for the call button.
"Don't." Cedric caught his wrist. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine, you just…"
"Don't you dare use this as a reason to leave me."
Gianni looked at their joined hands. Cedric's grip was weak, his skin too pale against the white sheets, but there was determination in his eyes that made Gianni's chest ache. This man, broken, bleeding, fighting for every breath, was still fighting for them.
"I can't lose you," Gianni whispered. "I can't watch you die because of me."
"Then don't leave me to die without you."
The door opened.
Linda. Her face went to stone when she saw Gianni.
"Out." One word. Hard as a bullet. "Now."
Gianni stood. Looked at Cedric one more time.
Those eyes. Still fierce. Still fighting even when his body was broken.
"Come back." Not a request. "Promise me you'll come back."
"I promise."
He walked past Linda without looking at her.
In the hallway, she grabbed his arm. Spun him around.
"I want you to leave my son alone." Her voice shook. "Whatever this is between you, it's over. He nearly died tonight. He's lying in that bed with part of his lung missing because of you and your world."
Gianni didn't answer. What could he say? She was right.
"So I'm asking you…" Her voice broke. "Begging you. Let him go."
"I can't…"
"Yes, you can." Tears streaked her face. "If you love him like you claim, you'll let him have a normal life. A safe life. You'll walk away."
"He'll hate me."
"He'll live. That's what matters." She was crying openly now. "Please. I've already lost his father. I can't lose him too. And if you stay in his life, you will kill him. Maybe not today. Maybe not this year. But eventually, your world will destroy him."
Gianni looked through the window. At Cedric. Small and broken in that hospital bed. The IV drip feeding into his arm. The oxygen monitor clipped to his finger. The bandages wrapped around his chest where Gianni's bullet had torn through flesh and bone.
She's right. He know she's right.
"I'll think about it."
"That's not good enough."
"It's all I can offer right now."
He walked away before she could see him break.
\---
Five days crawled past.
Cedric was moved to a regular room. Better lighting. Fewer machines. Still weak. Still in pain every time he breathed.
Gianni visited every day.
Linda protested every time. He came anyway.
They didn't talk much. Gianni would sit in the chair by the window and Cedric would watch him, and the silence between them felt like something dying slowly. Like watching flowers wilt. Like counting down to an ending neither of them wanted but both could see coming.
On the sixth day, he arrived to find Marcus there. Sitting beside the bed. Talking quietly.
Cedric laughed at something. The sound was rusty but real.
Gianni froze in the doorway.
He looks happy. When was the last time he made him laugh like that?
Marcus was different in civilian clothes. Less intimidating. More human. He was showing Cedric something on his phone, photos, maybe, and Cedric's face had color in it for the first time in days.
Cedric saw him. "Hey. Come in. Marcus was just telling me about the arrests."
Marcus stood. Nodded at Gianni. No warmth but no hostility either. Just professional courtesy between two men who'd both nearly lost everything in that warehouse.
"Seventeen members of the Falcone organization in custody." He said it clinical. Professional. "Dante's being charged with attempted murder, racketeering, conspiracy. He's looking at life without parole."
"And the rest of the family?" Gianni's voice came out quieter than he wanted.
"The ones who stood with you are cooperating. The ones who stood with Dante are going down with him." Marcus looked at him. Really looked. "You could make a deal. Testify against Dante. They'd give you immunity for everything except..."
"Except what?"
"Except what happened to Cedric's father." Marcus's voice went hard. "That stays on the table. You witnessed that murder. You could've stopped it. That makes you complicit."
"Marcus, don't." Cedric shifted in bed. Winced.
"He deserves to know what he's protecting." Marcus moved toward the door. Stopped. Looked back at Cedric. "I'll leave you two alone. Cedric, think about what I said. You have options. You don't have to go back to that life."
The door closed.
Silence except for the beeping monitor. The hiss of oxygen. The distant sound of nurses talking in the hallway.
"He's right." Gianni didn't look at him. "You have options now. Your mother wants me gone. Marcus is offering you protection, a fresh start. The debt is cleared, Dante's assets are being seized, so the debt doesn't exist anymore."
He forced himself to meet Cedric's eyes.
"You're free, Cedric. Completely free."
"Free." Cedric repeated it like tasting poison. "You're doing it. You're actually doing what my mother asked. You're leaving me."
"I'm giving you a choice. Without pressure. Without me manipulating the situation."
"I've already made my choice." Cedric's voice went sharp. "I chose you. I chose us. I chose it in that warehouse when I could've run and didn't."
"You almost died for that choice."
"So?" He struggled to sit up. Pain flashed across his face. His hand went to his chest, pressing against the bandages. "People almost die for things that matter."
"Cedric, stop, you're going to hurt…"
"I'm not some fragile thing that needs protecting from my own decisions, Gianni." Each word cost him. His breathing was getting shallow. Too fast. "I'm an adult who chose to love someone dangerous. And I'd do it again. I'd walk into that warehouse again. I'd take that bullet again."
He was breathing hard now. Too hard. The monitor was beeping faster.
"Because this…" He gestured between them. "...is worth it."
"What if I can't live with that?" Gianni's voice cracked. "What if I can't live knowing I shot you? What if every time I look at you, all I see is you on that warehouse floor, choking on your own blood?"
"Then you figure out how to forgive yourself." Cedric's hand found his. Gripped tight despite the pain. "But you don't get to make that decision for me. You don't get to decide what I can handle. What I'm willing to risk."
Gianni looked at their hands. At the IV tube taped to Cedric's wrist. At the bandages showing beneath his hospital gown. At the scar this would leave, a permanent reminder of Gianni's failure.
"So here's what's going to happen." Cedric's voice was firm despite his weakness. Despite the way his hand trembled. "You're going to go home. You're going to think about what you really want. And if you decide you can't do this…can't be with me knowing the risks…then you come back and you tell me to my face."
He pulled Gianni closer. Their faces were inches apart.
"You don't just disappear. You don't make the decision without me. You owe me that much."
Gianni wanted to kiss him. Wanted to promise everything would be okay. Wanted to lie.
Instead, he left without answering.
\---
Three days passed.
No visits. No calls. No flowers. No messages through Marco.
Cedric stared at the door every time it opened. Each time it wasn't Gianni, something inside him broke a little more.
Linda tried to hide her relief. Failed.
Marcus visited twice. Talked about witness protection. New identities. Fresh starts. A life where Cedric Santos could disappear and someone else could emerge, someone without a murdered father, without a bullet scar, without a broken heart.
Cedric didn't hear any of it.
On the fourth day, Mrs. Kozlov appeared.
She was carrying a suitcase.
Cedric's heart stopped.
"What's this?"
"Mr. Falcone asked me to bring you these." Her hands shook. Her eyes were red. She'd been crying. "Your things from the house. And..."
She handed him an envelope.
"He said to give you this."
Cedric stared at it. His hands wouldn't work properly. Took three tries to open it. The paper felt like lead. Like holding his own death certificate.
Inside. A letter. A check.
$500,000.
The letter:
I'm sorry. You deserve better than what I can give you. The money is for school, for starting over. For building the life you should have had. Please don't look for me. Please don't try to come back. I love you too much to keep destroying you. …G
The words blurred.
Mrs. Kozlov was saying something. He couldn't hear through the rushing in his ears. Through the sound of his world ending.
The check slipped from his fingers. Floated to the floor.
"Mr. Santos? Cedric?"
He looked up at her. His chest hurt worse than the bullet wound. Worse than anything.
"Where is he?"