Chapter Ten: His World Stops
Keifer's POV:
The phone slipped from my hand before I even realized it. Her scream—sharp, terrified—kept echoing in my ears like it was carved into my bones.
Traffic blurred, horns blared, people shouted, but I couldn't hear anything except the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my chest.
"Track her, now!" I barked into the phone as I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white.
Edrix's voice came through, calm but urgent. "She's near City Central Park, sir. A commotion just started there—looks like an accident scene."
My foot pressed harder on the accelerator. "Keep me updated. I'm on my way."
The closer I got, the more the city seemed to spin out of control—crowds gathering, flashing lights painting the street. And then, through the chaos, I saw her.
Jay.
Flat on the ground. Motionless. Blood staining the pavement near her arm.
Something inside me cracked wide open. I didn't remember stopping the car, or pushing through people, or the look on Rakki's face when I reached them.
"Jay!"
Her lashes fluttered weakly, eyes half-open. "Keifer…"
"Don't move," I said, my voice shaking in a way it never had before. "You'll be fine, do you hear me? You're fine."
"She saved the kid," Rakki choked out, her hands trembling as she tried to press cloth against the wound. "He ran onto the road—she just ran after him."
I barely heard her. All I could see was the way Jay's fingers twitched in mine before going limp again.
I shouted for an ambulance, for anyone to move faster. My voice didn't sound like mine anymore—it was rough, desperate, almost breaking.
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and panic.
They took her from my hands and disappeared behind the white doors before I could even breathe. And then all that was left was silence.
I sat down hard on the bench, staring at the blood smeared across my palms. Her blood. The thought made something twist painfully in my chest.
She was supposed to be loud, stubborn, impossible to ignore—not this still. Not like this.
Rakki sat beside me, crying quietly. "She didn't even think. Just saw the truck and jumped."
That was Jay. Always impulsive. Always trying to save someone else, even if it meant ruining herself.
I pressed my hands together, elbows on my knees, and shut my eyes. "Why the hell do you always have to do this to me?" I muttered under my breath.
Maybe she couldn't hear me, but I said it anyway.
When the doctor finally walked out, my heart stopped mid-beat.
"She's stable," he said. "But she needs rest. A few fractures, mild head trauma. She's lucky."
Lucky. That word again. I didn't feel lucky. I felt hollow.
I waited outside her room until the nurse finally let me in. She looked… too pale. Her hair was spread over the pillow, skin almost translucent against the white sheets.
I sat down next to her bed and exhaled slowly, my hand hesitating in midair before finally resting near hers.
"Do you ever stop scaring me?" I whispered. "You can throw your tantrums, argue, glare—just… don't do this again."
The machine beeped softly beside her, steady but faint.
"You're supposed to drive me insane, not disappear like this," I added, trying to laugh but failing miserably.
I leaned back, staring at her. Somewhere in the middle of everything fake and complicated between us, she had managed to slip under my skin. I didn't know how or when—but she did.
I wasn't ready to admit anything, not even to myself. I just knew that the thought of losing her made it hard to breathe.
So I stayed there, through the night, the sound of her breathing the only thing holding me together.
And when her fingers twitched slightly, barely brushing against mine, I froze.
"Jay?"
She didn't open her eyes, but her lips moved. "Don't yell… you're too loud."
My chest loosened for the first time in hours.
"Then stop giving me reasons to yell," I said softly, my voice unsteady, my throat burning.
I didn't confess that night. I couldn't. But I also knew one thing for certain—
The moment I thought I'd lost her… everything else stopped mattering.