Page 111 of Revenge & Ruin

We’ve both been running on pure adrenaline. Which meant neither of us had any fight in us when the ambulance came. That doesn’t mean either of us wants to be here.

Rocco is likely tearing himself apart. Cas went with Isabella in the other ambulance. But she’d inhaled so much smoke. Her body had gone through so much stress. If she’s gone into labor…

I sit up, pushing against the medic who’s trying to keep me down. “I don’t need this,” I growl, looking over at Rocco, who’s fighting his own battle with the attendants trying to strap him down. “We need to stay with them. We need to?—”

The paramedic shakes his head, his grip firm as he pushes me back. “You’re going to the hospital. No arguments.”

I glance at Rocco, and we share a look. Exhausted, burned, but united in the same thought: we don’t care about ourselves. Right now, all that matters is Cas and the baby.

The ambulance doors swing open, and we’re unloaded, wheeled through blindingly white corridors, fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows over our bruised, soot-streaked faces.

I think I see Cas being rushed ahead, doctors surrounding her as they move her quickly down another hallway, their voices rapid and tense as they discuss her breathing, the baby’s heart rate, her contractions.

My hands clench, and I catch Rocco’s eye again as they wheel him in beside me. He looks like he’s on the verge of getting up and running after her, restraints or no restraints. I’d do the same if they didn’t have me pinned.

A nurse tries to put an oxygen mask on me again, but I shove it aside. “It’s my best friend’s wife,” I say, my voice low and rough. “She’s in labor, and we don’t know if the baby will be okay. Just let us?—”

“We need to treat you,” the nurse says firmly, her face giving nothing away. “There could be damage to your lungs, and if you don’t cooperate, you’ll only exacerbate your injuries.”

I bite back a retort, nodding stiffly. There’s no arguing with her. I let them clean the cuts on my face and bandage my arm, the sting barely registering over the sick worry twisting through my gut.

Every second feels like an hour, every breath dragging me down into a darker, colder place.

Rocco barely tolerates his treatment,, his face a mask of terror as he keeps looking toward the door, straining to hear any sound that might come from Cas’ direction.

“She was already in pain before the fire,” he mutters to me, his voice breaking. “I don’t know if she can…if they’ll be okay.”

I want to tell him they’ll be fine, that Cas is strong, that the baby’s tougher than we know, but the words feel hollow. Instead, I reach over and grip his shoulder, holding him in place, grounding us both as we wait in grim silence.

Finally, after what feels like hours, they release us, their instructions blurring together as I stagger to my feet. Rocco’s beside me, equally unsteady, his face pale but set in grim determination.

The nurse leads us through another set of hallways, and it feels like every step takes an eternity. Rocco walks beside me, the tension rolling off him in waves. I can see his hands shaking, his jaw clenched tight, barely holding himself together.

I don’t think either of us breathes until we reach the door at the end of the hall, and the nurse gestures for us to go in.

Inside, Cas is lying in a hospital bed, her face exhausted but peaceful, a glow of relief in her eyes. She looks up at us as we enter, a tired smile spreading across her face.

And beside her, holding a tiny bundle wrapped in a pale blue blanket, is Isabella.

Her face lights up the second she sees us, her eyes softening, and she looks down at the baby, then back to us.

“Rocco,” Cas whispers, her voice barely more than a breath, but it’s enough.

Rocco crosses the room in an instant, reaching her bedside and taking her hand like he’s reassuring himself that she’s really there.

The baby stirs in Isabella’s arms, making a faint little sound that fills the room like the most fragile, beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

Isabella steps closer to Rocco, lifting her bundle carefully so we can see his tiny face.

“You have a son,” she says softly, her voice warm and steady as she hands the baby to Rocco.

He takes his son like he’s handling the most precious thing in the world. His eyes shimmer as he looks down at the baby, and a soft laugh escapes him.

Cas reaches up, running her fingers along her son’s cheek, her eyes filling with tears.

“You both made it,” he murmurs like he can’t quite believe it. “You’re both here.”

I take a step back, watching them, letting them have this moment, but I feel a warmth I can’t describe growing in my chest. I turn to Isabella, and our eyes meet.

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