Chapter 31 Between life and pride

Chapter 31 Between life and pride
Hazel’s POV
“HEY!” I panicked, instinctively grabbing his shirt. “Put me down! I don’t need your help!”
“Yeah,” he grunted, staggering slightly. “You do.”

I felt something warm soaking into my skirt. Blood. His blood. “…You’re bleeding again,” I said automatically.
“Yeah,” he shot back through clenched teeth. “I noticed.”

I struggled in his arms, shame and panic tangling together in my chest. “I said put me down. I can walk.”
“You literally can’t,” he snapped.
“I don’t care,” I hissed. “I don’t need you carrying me around like this.”

My voice wobbled despite my effort to control it. He stopped. Just stood there, breathing hard, jaw tight. I could feel the tension in his grip, careful not to hurt me, careful not to drop me. “…You don’t gotta look at me,” he said quietly. “If that’s what this is about.”
That nearly broke me. 
“I said put me down,” I repeated, softer this time, staring at the concrete over his shoulder.
He hesitated. Then he adjusted his hold, not releasing me, but turning slightly, angling his body so my face was tucked against his shoulder, hidden.
“We’re movin’,” he said. “Argue later.” 
He hissed through his teeth but kept moving, jaw clenched, leaving a dark trail behind us on the concrete.He limped forward another step and then another and then his foot caught awkwardly on the uneven concrete.
“Goddamn－”
His body lurched.
I felt it immediately, the sharp dip of his balance, the way his arms tightened reflexively to keep me from falling even as his own legs betrayed him.

“That’s it,” I snapped, panic bleeding into my voice. “Put me down. You don’t have to do this. I never asked for your help.”
He ignored me completely. Instead, through clenched teeth, he muttered, “Where?”
“What?”
“Where,” he repeated, voice low and strained. “Where am I takin’ you?”
I hesitated. That alone felt suspicious. Why was he still doing this? We’d barely stopped trying to verbally maim each other five minutes ago. We didn’t like each other. We were very clear on that.

Was this some twisted sense of obligation? Did he want leverage? A debt? 
My pride bristled at the thought. 

I lifted my hand weakly and pointed－ nowhere. Just the open courtyard ahead of us, empty and useless and offering absolutely nothing.

He stopped walking. Slowly, he followed the direction of my finger, eyes scanning the bare space like something was supposed to materialize there. “…You pointin’ at air?” he asked flatly.
I swallowed. My throat felt dry. “Painkillers,” I whispered.
He looked down at me. “What?”
“Painkillers,” I repeated, louder this time, though it cost me. “I need them.”

He hissed sharply as he adjusted his grip, shifting my weight away from his bleeding side. “Where are they?”
“I－” The pain spiked suddenly, white-hot and blinding. My thoughts scattered. “What…?”
He tried to move again. His knees buckled. We went down hard.
He twisted at the last second so I didn’t take the impact, but he hit the concrete with a sharp grunt, one knee slamming down first. I heard him swear, vicious and breathless, as blood slid down his temple. The cloth and tie I’d wrapped earlier were useless now, soaked through completely.
“Sht－ fck－”

I was half-sliding out of his arms, half still trapped in them. “Just put me down,” I gasped. “Your wounds are－”
He was already forcing himself back up. I felt it in the way his muscles locked, trembling, in the way his breathing turned uneven and harsh. He staggered upright again, blood dripping freely now, jaw clenched like sheer stubbornness alone was holding him vertical. My hip throbbed viciously and I couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped me. He noticed.
“Hey,” he muttered, rough but quieter now. “Hang in there.”
Another step. Then another.

“I’m takin’ you to the nurse,” he said, like that settled everything. “Don’t you dare die on me, ya hear me?”
Panic flared immediately. “No,” I shook my head frantically, words tumbling over each other. “Zerran－ painkillers－ nurse doesn’t－ nothing”
The pain was scrambling my thoughts now, turning everything into fragments. “With Zerran,” I forced out. “Painkillers… he has them.”

He stopped. Not stumbled. Not slowed. Stopped.
“Zerran?” he repeated. The name landed differently. Heavy. Sharp. He stared straight ahead, jaw tightening, eyes unfocused like he’d just been yanked somewhere else entirely. I felt his grip shift, not weaker, not gentler. Tighter. And I suddenly got the sense that whatever I’d just said mattered far more than I understood.



Kael’s POV
The second her lips shaped his name, my whole damn body locked the fuck up.
Zerran.

Everything else just... dropped. The weight in my arms, the fire ripping through my side, the blood streaking down my face, the girl breathing all shaky against my chest－ gone. My head didn’t spin wild. It snapped tight, sharp as a blade, every thought folding in on that one fuckin’ name like it’d been sitting in my gut waitin’ to gut me.

I ain’t seen him proper in years. Not since shit went from bad to straight-up unforgivable. My jaw clenched so hard I tasted metal. We never had that brother shit people talk about, not even when we was kids tryna act stupid and happy like the world wasn’t already fuckin’ us over. But it got worse. Way worse. After that day.
After the day Mom－
The memory slammed me like a boot to the throat.

I was five. Too small. Too loud. Too damn dumb and hopeful. Runnin’ barefoot across the dining room floor, heart poundin’ stupid-fast like I finally had somethin’ worth showin’. Somethin’ that proved I wasn’t just dead weight.
It was this little car, crooked, ugly as hell, perfect. Scrap metal I dragged from the junk pile out back. Bent frame. Loose screws. Tiny engine I took apart and slapped back together with shakin’ fingers and way too much pride for a kid who didn’t know shit.

Zerran was there. Eight goin’ on thirty. Sittin’ at the table countin’ money. Dirty stacks of thin bills spread out like that was his whole world already. Shoulders hunched like the weight of keepin’ us alive had already crushed the kid out of him. Dark circles under his eyes even back then. Looked older than time.
“Zee Zee!” I yelled, grinnin’ so wide my face hurt. “Look what I made!”

I dropped the car between us and yanked the little gear on the back. Engine sputtered, coughed, then caught. Thing rolled forward shaky but straight. “Tadaa.”
I waited. For a smile. A laugh. For him to mess up my hair and say I did good. Anything.
He didn’t even glance at it.
“Instead of fucking around with stupid shit,” he said flat, still countin’, “why don’t you use those hands to help me make some money?”
Smile died on my face.
“So we can give Mom the life she deserves,” he added, finally standin’ up. “Be useful.”
That word hit like a slap I didn’t see comin’. He stepped away from the table and the car rolled right under his foot. He stumbled. Winced. The crunch made my stomach drop through the floor.

Then he looked at me.
I shrank.

He bent down slow, picked up the toy, turned it over in his hand like he was judgin’ how worthless it really was, then he smashed it into the tiles.
Crack echoed loud as hell. Pieces flew. Metal skittered. Springs bounced. The little engine slid right up next to my foot and stopped.
I stared at it. I’d worked so fuckin’ hard on that thing.

Zerran’s voice came out ice-cold. “Clean this up before Mom steps on it. I don’t want her getting hurt.”
He grabbed his shovel. “Look after her,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
He didn’t look at me when he walked out.
And later, he didn’t come back at all.

Not after I fucked up the one thing he drilled into my head over and over. Protect Mom. I failed him. I failed her. Last time I saw his face, the disappointment wasn’t quiet no more. It was sharp. Burnin’. Full of hate. And I didn’t even have the right to fight it.
If I was him, I’d hate me too.

The memory stretched till breathin’ hurt. I saw his back gettin’ smaller, walkin’ away again, shrinkin’ out my life for good. Chest burned. Eyes stung.
“No－” little me whispered. “Please come back－”

A hand grabbed my collar. Hard.
Reality crashed back in.
“Kael!”
Her voice sliced clean through the fog. Soft. Too soft.
“Kael… what’s wrong?”

The way she said my name－ careful, almost like she actually gave a damn, made my chest squeeze tight.
For a second I just stared at her.
Then the world jerked. Tilted hard. Balance went to shit. Knees slammed concrete.

I tried to hold her, tried not to drop her, but arms felt like fuckin’ noodles. Weak. Useless. She slipped outta my grip and hit the ground beside me with a sharp hiss of pain.
“Ginger…” Name cracked comin’ out my mouth. I reached for her. Missed.
Everything blurred. Edges went dark, closin’ in like a fist. Warmth drainin’ out through the hole in my side, soakin’ my shirt, my jeans. I was tryna help her. I really fuckin’ was.
But even now－ bleedin’, shakin’, collapsin’, I was still disappointin’ somebody.
Just like always.

Last thing I saw was her hunched over a little, back turned slight, clutchin’ her hip.
Then black.