Page 192 of Rose
The doctor gave a slow nod. “Mr. Carter sustained multiple gunshot wounds—one to the leg, one to the shoulder, one mid-abdomen, and one to the chest. The abdominal wound was the most concerning. It caused significant internal bleeding.”
Gasps rippled through the room. Kyre reached for A’Mazi’s hand, her own trembling.
“The surgery was successful,” the doctor continued. “We removed all four bullets and were able to control the bleeding… but he lost a lot of blood. We’ve placed him in a medically induced coma to give his body time to rest and heal.”
“How long?” Sincere asked quietly.
“That depends on him,” the doctor replied. “We’ve done everything we can. Now… it’s up to Mr. Carter to decide when—or if—he wakes up.”
Ahzii felt her throat tighten as tears pricked her eyes. Kyre turned away, biting her lip hard to keep from falling apart.
“Usually,” the doctor added, “we only allow two visitors at a time. But Mr. Sincere has donated generously to this hospital over the years. I’ve spoken with administration, so as long as you don’t disturb other patients, you may all see him together.”
“Thank you,” Sincere said, voice thick.
“He’s in Room 209. A nurse will guide you,” the doctor said before walking away.
The family surged forward behind the nurse, a wave of urgent footsteps and muffled sobs. But Ahzii stayed rooted to the lobby floor, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.
Images flashed in her mind—the fire, the lies, William… no, Lazarus—and the bullet wounds Savior now carried because of him. Her blood boiled.
Bianca noticed her daughter hadn’t moved. “Shug, you good? You need to see him.”
A tear slipped down Ahzii’s cheek. She shook her head slightly. She couldn’t bring herself to picture him like that. Savior, the man who’d always felt unbreakable, lying helpless and pale under hospital lights. He had been her steel, her shield, her Khaos… and she wasn’t ready to see him shattered.
“I can’t go in there… I can’t see him like that,” Ahzii whispered, her voice trembling as more tears slipped free.
Bianca stepped forward, pulling her into a warm embrace. “He would want to see you, Shug,” she murmured softly.
But the guilt pressed heavy on Ahzii’s chest, almost suffocating her. Knowing William—no, Lazarus—was truly dead brought a sense of relief after learning who he really was. But that relief was poisoned by the thought that she might be the reason Savior lay in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. If she had just told him the truth from the start, maybe he would have told her everything too. He had never lied to her—not once—so why had she assumed he would start if she’d opened up about what really happened?
Her gaze shifted down the hall where Sarai was sobbing, clinging to Sincere and Kyre.
“Zii, you have to fight with him. He needs you now,” Bianca urged.
Ahzii moved on autopilot toward Savior’s room. She could hear Selene’s sobs before she even touched the handle.
“I’m sorry! I love you, son! I’m sorry!” Selene’s voice cracked with anguish just before the door swung open. Saint stepped out, holding her as she cried hysterically in his arms.
Even Saint’s eyes were wet, a sight Ahzii never thought she’d see. Savior had always been like his father, even when he refused to acknowledge it. Steel-hearted, unshaken. To see Saint’s composure fracture, to watch him cling to his wife like the world was falling apart, made something inside Ahzii splinter.
Aunt Marley stood at the end of Savior’s bed when Ahzii walked in.
“Hey, Pretty,” Aunt Marley greeted softly.
Ahzii fell into her arms without hesitation. “I’m so sorry. I can’t lose him.”
“This is not your fault,” Aunt Marley said firmly. “Sin explained everything. You’re the victim in all of this. Savior is strong, he will always come through.”
Ahzii nodded, wanting desperately to believe her. “Can I… please have a moment with him?” she asked.
A’Mazi walked to her, kissed her forehead, before leaving to check on Kyre. Bianca and Aunt Marley both pressed kisses to Savior’s forehead, then to hers, before slipping out and closing the door.
The moment the latch clicked, Ahzii crumbled. Her sobs filled the room, her legs weak as she took in the sight before her. Savior pale and still, his body tangled in wires and tubes.
This wasn’t the man who had run out of the barbershop, cape still around his neck, ready to defend her without knowing her name.
This wasn’t the man who had killed for her, who’d blown up a car without hesitation, who had forced his way into her world and refused to leave.
