Page 181 of Rose
Olivia’s lips parted like she wanted to push back, but Saint lifted a hand, stopping her. One look in his son’s eyes told him enough.
“She don’t have anything to do with it. Just focus on Lazarus,” Saint ordered.
Olivia looked confused but backed down.
“So how we moving on William?” Sincere asked, breaking the suffocating tension.
“We wait until he shows. He’s bound to show up soon—if he hasn’t already,” Saint replied.
Savior’s eyes stayed locked on the hospital file. He couldn’t stare at it another second. Couldn’t sit in this room another second.
He stood abruptly, grabbed his keys, and walked out.
The only person with the answers was Ahzii. And he was going to her.
Savior stormed toward his car, phone pressed to his ear. Ahzii’s number went straight to voicemail. Blocked.
He called again. And again. Ten more times. Same result. Each unanswered ring only poured gasoline on the fire building inside him.
The last thing he’d heard from her was that damn message saying she needed space.
“Aye, Sav!”
His father’s voice echoed from behind him, but Savior didn’t stop dialing. Didn’t slow down.
“Savior!” Saint called again, closer this time.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Savior flinched hard, spinning around with nothing but fire in his eyes.
Saint knew that look. Khaos was about to be unleashed on someone, and there’d be no pulling him back.
“Slow down, son.”
“Slow down? Saint, did you not just witness what the fuck happened in there?” Savior’s voice cracked under the weight of his rage. “Jane Doe is fucking Allure. That means she was in that house when the shit went down. She could’ve died—her fucking baby did die—and it’s all because of me!”
The tears came fast, hot, and merciless. Savior could count on one hand the number of times he’d cried in his life. But nothing—nothing—hurt like this.
Whether or not he’d been running point that night, whether or not he’d known she was Jane Doe, whether William had kept a secret family, it didn’t matter. Guilt still clawed him open from the inside.
The pain Ahzii had lived with. The numbness. The trauma. The scars he’d kissed and called beautiful… all because of him.
He knew now, without a shadow of doubt, she’d been there.
A ragged sob tore out of him, his chest locking up as Saint pulled him into a hug. Savior’s arms hung stiff at first, but then he caved, pressing his forehead into his father’s shoulder like he was trying to keep from collapsing.
“You can’t blame yourself for that shit, Sav,” Saint said quietly, his hand gripping the back of his son’s neck. “You didn’t know. You had no control over what happened that night.”
Savior lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot and wet. “She was shot because of me. She was burned because of me. Willow…” His voice broke.
“That shit wasn’t your fucking fault,” Saint snapped, his own tone rising now. “Ahzii went through that because of Lazarus, not you. You weren’t even running point that night, so how the fuck could it be your fault?”
“It’s not. It’s my fault.”
Sincere’s voice cut through the air as he walked up, his face tight with guilt.
“I didn’t dig deep enough on Lazarus before sending Wild and Raz in. If I’d known the nigga had a family, I would’ve never told them to move. We could’ve gotten his ass a different way, and Ahzii would still have her daughter.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Savior… you can’t take this weight. You’ve had my back all my life. Took every beating, every piece of blame for my fuckups. It’s time I own this one and do the same for you.”
He pulled Savior into a hug, holding him there.
