“No,” Enzo interjects, in a surprisingly gentle voice considering his previous outburst. I open my mouth to protest, but he continues. “You need to rest, Lily. We’ll take turns. I’ve got this for now. When you wake up later, you can take a shift.”
His words make sense, but it takes everything in me to agree. “Fine,” I whisper. “But come get me if anything happens.”
He nods, then moves to carry Jax into the closest bedroom. I can’t stop myself from walking forward and watching as Enzo deposits Jax onto the edge of the bed. The nurse strides past me with a tray of supplies and immediately starts working.
I linger for a moment longer, watching as the nurse administers the first dose of a sedative. Jax’s face contorts in pain as she jabs him with the needle, even in his semi-conscious state, and my chest constricts.
Enzo strides to the edge of the room and places a hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the door. “Come on, Lily. Go get some rest. I’ll stay here and get you if anything happens. I promise.”
I nod, allowing him to guide me out the door. I lingerjust long enough to hear the soft click of it shutting behind me before moving toward the adjoining room. The space is dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners. The air here feels just as heavy, just as suffocating as the bedroom and it takes me a second to realize that maybe the feeling is just the tightness in my chest and nothing to do with the air at all.
Dylan sinks into a chair, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Marcus stands by the window, his back straight but his expression taut, his worry etched into every line of his face as he stares out at the dark city beyond.
“This is a fucking nightmare,” Dylan mutters, running his other hand through his hair, causing a section to stand upright.
Marcus replies, his voice even but tired. “It is… Jax did this to himself and now he’s facing the consequences of his actions. But we need to help him through it. He’s still a part of this band and part of our family.”
I sink into one of the luxurious armchairs in the living room, exhaustion crashing over me. My mind spins with questions and guilt. We found Jax, but it barely feels like that has solved any of our problems. I press my palms to my face, stifling the tears burning behind my eyes. “This has to work,” I whisper.
Dylan stops his quiet muttering and settles onto the couch near me. Not long after, Marcus joins us, sinking into a seat as we sit in silence, waiting. I close my eyes, and try to will myself to sleep, but my mind races with all the things that could go wrong, refusing to grant me peace.
The hours drag on, punctuated only by the nurse’s soft movements as she moves in and out of the room. Thetension is a living, breathing thing, gnawing at the edges of all of us. Eventually, Enzo slips out for some air, and Marcus takes his turn with Jax.
When Enzo returns, he doesn’t say a word. He gathers me into his arms, pulling me onto the sofa beside him. His face is drawn, exhaustion etched into every line. He holds me tightly, his grip firm but comforting, as if I’m the only thing keeping him steady. Within minutes, his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep, curled protectively around me.
Sleep continues to evade me. I stare at the ceiling, periodically glancing at the time on my phone. When the nurse returns with Marcus following closely behind, I carefully ease out of Enzo’s arms, doing my best not to wake him. Quietly, I slip into the bedroom and take a seat beside Jax.
He lies motionless, his breathing shallow and uneven, his skin slick with a sheen of sweat. My chest tightens at the sight of him. Reaching for his clammy hand, I wrap mine around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. Leaning closer, I whisper softly, “You’re not alone, Jax. We’re here. I’m here. I need you to hang on.”
I don’t know if he can hear me, but I keep talking, keep holding on to him like I can tether him to us through sheer will alone. Eventually, exhaustion wins out. My head rests on the edge of the bed, and I drift into a restless sleep, his hand still clasped in mine.
Sometime later, I wake to the gentle jostle of being lifted. The motion stirs me from sleep. I blink up to see Marcus, his expression soft despite the dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.
“You need sleep, Lily,” he murmurs, carrying me out of Jax’s room and into the room next door.
I want to protest, but my body is too heavy. He lays me down, the mattress dipping as he settles beside me, pulling me into his warmth. I barely register the tender press of his lips against my forehead as sleep tries to claim me again.
“I’m here,” he whispers. “Get some rest.”
I fight to open my groggy eyes and turn to face him, our faces mere inches apart. The soft glow of the city lights filters through the curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. His blue eyes are dark, heavy with emotion that mirrors the feelings swirling around my head. I reach up, cupping his cheek, my palm resting against the warmth of his skin.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice trembling under the weight of exhaustion and gratitude.
Marcus leans in, his lips meeting mine in a soft, tender kiss. It’s more than just a kiss—it’s a promise, a silent vow that we’ll weather this storm together. His hand slides gently to my waist, drawing me closer until there’s no space left between us.
Our movements are unhurried, deliberate, as we undress each other in the quiet stillness of the room. Each kiss, every touch, is laced with a need to escape the fear and exhaustion that has gripped us for days. His body moves against mine in a gentle rhythm, his hands exploring me with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as the tightness in my body unravels. In this moment, we’re not just two people lost in chaos—we’re each other’s lifeline, finding comfort and strength in the connection we share.
After we both find our release, we lie tangled together, our breathing slow and steady as the world outside fades away. Marcus’s hand strokes my hair in soothing, rhythmic motions, grounding me in a way words never could. I curl further into him, the tension in my chest easing for the first time in hours.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice a broken thread.
Marcus doesn’t reply. He just holds me tighter, like he’s trying to hold the pieces of me together. I drift into a comfortable sleep, my ear pressed against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
When I wake, sunlight streams through the curtains, painting the room in soft, golden light. Marcus is gone, but the lingering warmth on the sheets tells me he left only moments ago. I slip out of bed quietly, pulling on my clothes with care before heading to check on Jax.
The nurse is still there, her movements precise and practiced. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and she offers a small nod. “He’s stable,” she says, her tone steady but cautious.
