"I love you."
I thought it was too late to tell him that. Even now, with everything that had happened, I struggled to find the confidence to say them out loudâespecially not in front of my mom. My heart ached, and I felt the weight of the world pressing down on me as I looked at him.
Cayden lay on the cold, hard floor, his body limp as I shook him, panic rising in my chest. "Cayden!" I cried, feeling the tears spill over as his weight felt heavier in my arms. I looked up at James, who stood frozen, his expression one of shock. He had shot his own friendâmy friend. The gun slipped from his fingers, clattering to the concrete with a heavy thud that echoed through the silence, stinging my ears.
"No... no, no," he stammered, his voice trembling as he realized the gravity of what he had done. Tears pooled in his eyes, and I could see the horror etched on his face as he took a step back, as if the reality of the moment was physically pushing him away.
"Cayden!" I shouted again, feeling a desperate urge to will him back to consciousness. I felt a presence behind me and turned to see Noah, Logan, Ethan, and Caleb rushing in. The sight of them didn't bring the relief I had hoped for; instead, it amplified the panic bubbling inside me.
"What happened?" Logan asked, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. I could only point at Cayden's wound, my voice caught in my throat. I pulled him closer, cradling his head in my lap as I rocked back and forth, tears spilling onto his shirt.
"The cops should be here any minute now," Ethan said, but I barely heard him, my focus entirely on Cayden, whose face was growing paler by the second.
As if sensing the urgency, I looked around for Trevor and Nolan. They had vanished, leaving only chaos in their wake. James, still lingering, took a hesitant step toward us, tears streaming down his face as he dropped to his knees beside us.
"I'm so sorry," he choked out, shaking as he reached toward Cayden. "I didn't mean to... Iâ"
Before he could finish, Noah's fist connected with James' face, sending him sprawling backward, a gasp escaping his lips as blood trickled from his nose.
"That's for shooting your own best friend!" Noah shouted, his voice heavy with rage. Logan and Caleb joined in, kicking at James' side, each kick a testament to their anger and betrayal.
"Betraying your own friends," Caleb added, fury boiling in his tone.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer, and I felt a flicker of hope. My mom appeared at my side, wrapping her arms around me as I sobbed into her shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay now," she murmured, but her words felt hollow against the weight of the situation.
Paramedics rushed through the entrance, their urgency palpable as they moved to help Cayden. I watched, heart racing, as they took over, their voices a blur of medical jargon.
Meanwhile, the police moved in, arresting James for kidnapping and attempted murder. He met my gaze, sadness etched across his features. "I hope you can forgive me for what I did," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Fuck you and your apology!" Logan shouted, his anger unyielding.
"Let's go after Cayden at the hospital. But we need to go to the police station first," Logan said, looking at me with a reassuring nod. "We'll catch up with you. Just get there."
I nodded, feeling numb as we made our way down the stairs, finally escaping the darkness of the abandoned building. The cool night air hit me like a splash of cold water, waking me from the daze I had been in.
I climbed into the ambulance, heart pounding as I watched my mom drive off in her car. Logan and Noah hopped into another vehicle, heading in the opposite direction. I focused on Cayden as the paramedics worked, their faces a mask of concentration as they struggled to keep him stable.
I took his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. "Stay awake, please," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.
***
At the hospital, anxiety coursed through me as they rushed Cayden into the operating room. I sat in the waiting area, my leg bouncing nervously as I tried to will time to move faster. My mom arrived soon after, sitting beside me in silence, our thoughts tangled in the unspoken truth of what had happened.
We had yet to discuss Cayden and the things we had nearly said to each other. I knew she sensed my feelings for him, but it felt wrong to burden her when she was grappling with so much herself. The thought of Cayden's father marrying my mother loomed like a dark cloud over my heart.
Time dragged on. I stared at the clock, each tick echoing louder than the last. Then the door swung open, and the surgeon stepped out, removing his mask as he approached us.
"Do any of you know the patient?" he asked, scanning our faces.
"He's my..."
"My stepson," my mom interjected, finishing my sentence before I could process the words. The title felt foreign and bitter on my tongue, twisting my stomach.
"We successfully removed the bullet, and he's stable now. We'll transfer him to a room for recovery. Once he's awake, you can check on him," the doctor said, and my mom nodded, her expression a mix of relief and worry as he walked away.
I looked at her, unsure of how to navigate the churning emotions inside me. "I'm going to check on him," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She nodded, a sad smile on her lips as I turned away.
The room where Cayden rested felt sterile, with white walls and pale blue decor that only amplified the somber atmosphere. A painting of a fruit bowl hung on the wall, a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation.
I approached the bed, where Cayden lay, eyes closed, and connected to a variety of machines. I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts as I took his hand, squeezing it gently.
"I was wrong," I began, my voice shaky as I looked down at his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Everything I said before was true, but I was also selfish. I thought putting my mom's happiness before mine was the right thing to do, but I was wrong."
Tears filled my eyes as I continued to caress his hand. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I've come to realize I won't be the best daughter if I'm not honest with myself or her. Loving you doesn't make me selfish; it makes me human."
In my mind, I could hear my mom's words echoing, "There's nothing wrong with loving someone who loves you back." But I had pushed those feelings away, convinced I was hurting everyone by wanting Cayden.
"I don't know how we can start over, but I know I have to let you go. If you love someone, you have to let them go, right? If we're meant to be together, then maybe fate will bring us back." I felt the tears slip down my cheeks, mingling with the despair of the moment.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "You deserve so much more than what I can give. I just... I have to accept that you're going to be my stepbrother."
As I stood up, ready to leave, I felt a hand grip my wrist. My heart raced as I turned to face Cayden, his eyes fluttering open. "What makes you think I'm not worthy of your love? I want only your love," he said, his voice hoarse but filled with conviction.
"I don't care if you're confused. I don't care what you think about yourself; I will still love you no matter what."
"Cayden..." I started, but he cut me off.
"I love you, and you love me. Isn't that enough?" His gaze bore into mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away.
"I..." I choked out, but before I could find the words, Noah walked in, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
"Hey, I brought flowers for Caydenâ" He stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide in shock as he took in the scene. "You're awake!" he exclaimed, his voice rising with excitement. "Nurse!"
I felt the weight of the moment collapse around me. I couldn't do this now, not in front of Noah, not in front of anyone. I pulled away from Cayden, my heart pounding as I stumbled out of the room, my shoulder colliding with Noah's in my haste.
Why was I running?
I was trying to do the right thing, to protect my mom and Cayden's dad. They deserved to be happy, and I didn't want to ruin that. But the thought of losing him, of letting him go, felt like cutting off my own heart.
"You are worth the fight," he whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.
But in that moment, I didn't feel worthy of his love. I was too broken, too lost to fight for what we could be.
"I love you," I whispered, the weight of the words pressing down on my chest. "But I think it's best if we end things here. You deserve better than thisâbetter than me."