51. Promise

The door flies open a second time, leaving a dent when it slams into the wall. People swarm into the room—police and paramedics—who only need half a minute to assess the situation and take control. Orders are shouted and Chalam is revived, handcuffed and escorted bodily outside, while another gurney carries out Nail.
More paramedics drop down next to the unconscious Kai, checking pulse points, asking questions and making comments that Jet doesn’t hear. He just watches the unfolding events with an odd detachment. Why does it feel like all of this is happening to someone else?
“Jet.” Luca is suddenly there, kneeling next to him. “Look at me. They can’t help your brother if you won’t let them near him. You have to let him go. Just let go, tesoro. It’s ok.”
Jet’s fingers clamp around Luca’s. A tourniquet is wrapped around Kai’s leg before he too is lifted onto a gurney and placed in an ambulance, followed by Jet and Luca, who hasn’t let go of Jet's hand. On the way to the hospital, Luca watches Jet, whose eyes are locked on his little brother’s still body. The relentless wailing of the sirens blends with the endless echoes of Jet’s repeated silent mantra: “Kai, Kai, Kai…”
◼️◼️◼️◼️
In the hushed silence of the ER waiting room, Jet struggles to think, to breathe. His bloodstained hands are curled so tight his fingernails scratch against his palms. He has to keep them clenched or they’ll start to tremble. He doesn’t hear Luca and Kit approach. When Luca puts a hand on his shoulder, Jet nearly flies out of the chair.
“Hey, just breathe,” Luca lowers his hand, staring down at Jet. “It’s ok.”
“Are you going to say that to me all night?” Jet scoffs.
“Yeah,” Luca looks totally serious. “If you want me to.”
“What part of this situation is ok?”
Luca doesn’t look at all offended by Jet’s tone. Instead, he takes a seat next to him. “You want to go wash the blood off?”
“No,” If Jet leaves, then Kai will be alone, and he’s not going to do that to his younger brother ever again. “I’m fine.”
“Here,” Kit holds a styrofoam cup out to Jet. “It’s cheap and it’s black, but drink it anyway.”
“Thanks,” Jet’s answer is as automatic as the sip he takes, and his breath hisses out through his teeth.
“Too hot?” Kit’s smile is bitter as the taste of that damn coffee.
“He prefers Iced Americano,” Luca’s smile is equally grim.
“I’ll remember that next time.” Kit hesitates, then sits down next to Jet. “I made some calls, and I’ll do all the talking, so you don’t have to worry about anything else. I called your sister, too. Rome answered her phone and he’s driving her here. ETA five minutes, he said.”
“Pepper’s working tonight.” Luca adds. “But I said I’d text her updates.”
“Thanks.” Jet takes another sip. Maybe having a cup in his hands will keep them steady. It’s better than clenching them.
Kit has no intention of leaving him alone. “I can find Em and ask her what’s going on, if you want.”
“Kai’s got a bullet in him.” Jet’s voice is toneless, but the stiffness of his body gives his feelings away. “Unless Nail and Chalam are locked in a cell, I don’t need to know anything else.”
“He’s dead.” Luca’s answer is unexpected.
Jet’s head jerks up. “I’m sorry?”
“Nail had a brain hemorrhage,” Luca repeats. “Died on the way to the hospital.”
Jet’s lips twitch just a little bit. Kai had rid the world of one of its scumbags. At least they had that going for them. The coffee is bitter against Jet’s tongue. His thoughts swirl in a half dazed mess. Nail is dead, Kai is injured, Chalam is still alive. Yes, he has two bullet holes in him, but that damn shark is still alive. Once Kai is out of danger, Jet can turn his attention to what his little brother started and finish the bastard off. Footsteps sound from down the hall. A voice says his name, and Jet looks up into Em’s face.
He’s on his feet, sloshing coffee all over the floor. “Kai’s going to be ok, right?”
“The bleeding is under control, but the bullet still needs to be removed.” Em’s voice is clinically steady. “They’re prepping him for surgery now. I can give you two minutes, but then we have to take him in.”
Jet is down the hall before the words fully register. Still alive. Kai is still alive.
◼️◼️◼️◼️
The tang of antiseptic stings Jet's nostrils as he comes into Kai’s room—the same size as the one he was previously in. But this time there are no beeping machines, no tubes, just one person on one bed. His little brother’s eyes are closed, his face is pale against the pillows under his head, but his chest rises and falls steadily. For now, that’s enough.
“Kai.” Jet moves to his brother’s side. “Kai, can you hear me?”
“Took you long enough.” Kai’s eyes snap open, a cocky grin splitting his face. “Hia.”
Jet’s heart stutters at the sound of that word. “Thought you weren’t ever going to call me that.”
“You’re my older brother, what the hell else am I supposed to call you?” Kai rolls his eyes, his snark back in full force. “Besides, what I said was I’d call you ‘Hia’ before I died.”
“But you’re not dead yet,” Jet laughs, relief rushing through his bloodstream. Kai’s ok. He’s fine. “And that’s the third time you’ve said it tonight.”
“Counting?” Kai’s lips curl in a lopsided grin. “How long was I out this time?”
“Long enough.” Jet’s expression sobers. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”
“Big brothers aren’t supposed to be scared of anything.” Kai wrinkles his nose in mock disapproval. “You look like shit. Go wash your hands—they’re disgusting.”
“In a minute,” Jet reassures him. “I wanted to see you first.”
“I’m good.” Kai gestures to the tourniquet around his leg, looking almost annoyed. “Couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to.”
Jet’s grin is reluctant.“The hell have you got to smile about?”
“Chalam. We blew that shark out of the water!” Kai’s eyes sparkle, his grin widening. “And, I got another internship—a better one. Kam told me I could start at Manirat Luxe on Monday.”
Jet raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“No.” Kai sticks his tongue out at him. “It’s a completely different branch of Manirat Nexus, and like you said last time, it’s a better fit for me. I took a shark down and got a new internship all in the same day. So I’m celebrating.”
“With another hospital trip?” Jet’s grin widens in spite of everything.
“Just paying the price.” Kai quips.
“Pretty shitty price.” Jet lowers himself onto the side of the bed, careful not to jar Kai’s leg. “Was it your idea to hijack the press conference?”
“That was Zone’s. But I organized everything else.” Kai presses his hands to his temples. “My head feels weird. Fuzzy. Like I’m floating.”
“It’s the painkillers.” Jett’s tone softens. “They do that before surgery.”
“Painkillers suck. Makes me dizzy.” Kai leans back against the pillows, giving Jet a lopsided smile. “Which is worse, a hangover or getting shot?”
“Depends on how many Black Russians you’ve had.” Jet retorts. Kai chuckles, closing his eyes for half a second. “You ok?”
“A little tired.” Kai’s eyes are open again. There’s a faint flush in his cheeks. “Do painkillers make you tired?”
“Some of them.” Jet takes Kai’s hand. His little brother’s fingers are warm, the grip slightly lighter than before. Given that Kai has experienced both blood loss and an adrenaline crash, Jet doesn’t blame him for feeling drained. “You don’t have to pretend.”
“Pretend what? I’m not scared!” Kai’s grin slips just enough Jet to catch it. “It’s just a little hole in my leg.”
“I survived my surgery.” Jet reassures him.
“You got stabbed.” Kai counters. “You didn’t have a bullet in you.”
“No, I had a box cutter blade in me. But I still survived.” Jet leans closer, stroking his thumb along the back of his little brother’s hand, then down toward his wrist.
“Hia.” Kai tilts his head. “Are you checking my pulse?”
“No.” Jet removes his thumb from Kai’s wrist, relieved to feel a steady beat. “Kai, you don’t have to worry. Em will make sure they take good care of you.”
Kai’s fingers clamp around Jet’s. “You’re not going to disappear again, right?”
“Only when they take you into surgery,” This time Jet’s smile is easy and reassuring. “They won’t let me in the operating room.”
“I know that!” But Kai still hasn’t let go of him. “What about after?”
“After the surgery, I’ll be right here.” Jet gently pries Kai’s fingers loose, interlocking their little fingers. “I’ll be right here. Everything’s going to be ok, Kai. No one’s going anywhere. I promise. After your surgery, you can tell me all about how you came up with your heist plan.”
“Brag to my big brother about how I took down the shark without professional help?” Kai’s grin is back, though it’s softer, like he’s savoring this moment. “Deal.”
◼️◼️◼️◼️
Jet’s on his second cup of the horrid cheap black stuff masquerading as coffee when Mali and Rome arrive at the hospital, their anxious faces a stark contrast to the sterile white walls. The bitter taste lingers in his mouth, each sip feeling like a cruel reminder of how little control he has over the situation. He glances at the clock on the wall, each tick echoing like a countdown in his mind. With every second, his thoughts drift darker, contemplating what he would say to Chalam —and what he would do to him—if he had the chance. That shark is somewhere in this same building, untouched. Untouchable.
Kit stands nearby, his arms crossed, answering Rome’s questions while Jet sits in silence, forcing down the sludge that feels more like punishment than comfort. The sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air, mingling with the faint beeping of machines, a constant reminder of the fragility of life in this place. Jet’s mind drifts, the gnawing pit in his stomach growing darker with each passing second. It festers, a twisted need forming inside him—Chalam has to answer for this.
“Jet,” Mali’s eyes meet his, anxiety tightening her voice. “How’s Kai? Really?”
“They’re still operating.” Jet’s fingers tighten around the coffee cup, the heat barely registering over the cold knot in his stomach. “So I don’t know.”
There are tears in Mali’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Maybe if I hadn’t texted you—”
“Kai would be bleeding out in Chalam’s mansion.” The words come out sharper than Jet wanted them to. He can see the guilt etched on her face, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her. “This isn’t your fault, Mali. None of it. You were looking out for Kai, just like you always have.”
But deep down, the darker part of him churns. Jet can’t stop the fire that’s slowly taking over. Chalam. It always comes back to him. If he had acted sooner, been smarter, maybe Kai wouldn’t be on that operating table. Maybe Chalam wouldn’t have gotten this far. The thought claws at his insides, festering. His jaw locks, the styrofoam coffee cup buckling under his tense fingers.
Luca resumes his seat, his own gaze a mixture of concern and understanding.
“How long does surgery usually take?” Mali’s eyes dart toward the closed operating room doors, willing them to open.
“Half an hour, maybe longer, that’s what Em said.” Luca shrugs, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the tension.
He jerks his head in the direction of another hallway, a signal for Jet to follow. Jet hesitates, then gets to his feet. They move just out of earshot of everyone else before Luca turns to face him. He lets Jet take another sip of coffee before breaking the silence.
“Chalam’s room is down the hall.” Luca’s eyes lock on Jet’s face. “No one wanted to tell you, but you needed to know.”
Jet’s expression hardens, the bitterness of the coffee turning sour in his mouth. “Where?”
“Are you really considering what I think you are?” Luca’s voice drops, a note of caution threading through his words. “Chalam is dangerous, Jet. You know that.”
“Dangerous?” Jet’s laugh is bitter, a sound that tastes like ashes in his throat. “He’s the reason Kai is on that table. He’s the reason we’re all here. I have to face him.”
“Not like this.” Luca shakes his head, his concern palpable. “You’re not thinking clearly. You need to focus on Kai. He’s the priority.”
“And what if I don’t want to focus on that?” Jet can’t shake the thought of Chalam lurking down the hall, resting comfortably in his own skin while Kai fights for his life. “That shark needs to pay—”
“You think I don’t know that?” Luca leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “You think I don’t understand that feeling? Don’t sink to Chalam’s level. Don’t give him exactly what he wants.”
Jet meets Luca’s gaze, and for a moment, the room fades away. He sees a flicker of recognition in Luca's eyes—a shared understanding of the darkness that can surface when they’re backed into a corner. It’s something Jet has kept hidden, a part of him that’s never seen the light of day, but now it claws at the surface, desperate for release.
Jet’s fingers dig deeper into the coffee cup, and the styrofoam gives way completely, splintering with a soft, jagged tear. Tiny white flakes fall to the floor like snow, the once smooth surface now mangled and caved in, jagged edges poking out between his knuckles. Hot coffee sears Jet’s hands, but that’s nothing compared to the rage inside him.
“Where’s his room?” Jet demands, his voice cold and resolute.
Luca meets his eyes with an expression Jet has never seen before: fear. “Jet, please—”
Jet’s voice is a low growl. “Where, Luca?”
Silence hangs between them, heavy and electric. After what feels like an eternity, Luca’s gaze drops. “Room 413.”
The number echoes in Jet’s mind like a trigger pulled. Room 413. His vision narrows, the world around him fading into a tunnel that leads straight to Chalam. The man who started it all. The man who thinks he’s invincible.
“Jet, listen to me.” Luca’s voice cuts through the fog. ““This won’t end the way you think. You’re not thinking straight. Kai’s still in surgery—he needs you here.”
Jet’s looks at him, expressionless. ““Chalam’s the reason Kai’s in there.”
“And if you kill him right now, you’ll be the reason someone else ends up in the ground,” Luca retorts. “You really want that on your conscience?”
Jet doesn’t flinch. He can almost feel the satisfaction of confronting Chalam, of making him suffer the way Kai has, the way they all have. He wants it. Needs it.
“Jet.” Luca tries one more time. “You don’t need to do this. Not now.”
“I know what I’m doing.” Jet’s voice is cold, detached. “Room 413. I’ll handle it.”
◼️◼️◼️◼️
Jet walks past the policemen guarding the door, his face a blank mask that hides the black hole forming inside him. His heart pounds like a war drum, every beat fueling the inferno beneath his skin. As the door clicks shut behind him, something inside him snaps. The silence of the room is suffocating. A private room. A single bed. No one to stop him.
Chalam, cuffed to the bed and hooked up to machines, smirks with that disgusting confidence. That damn smirk.
Jet moves forward slowly, each step coiling the rage tighter. Chalam doesn’t see it. He doesn’t understand. Not yet.
Jet's hand latches onto the bandage around Chalam’s knee. No hesitation. His fingers twist, digging deep into the fresh wound beneath the layers of gauze. Chalam's body tenses, veins bulging in his neck, but he doesn't cry out. His refusal to scream is a challenge, and Jet accepts it without words.
The bandage saturates with fresh blood. Jet digs deeper.
“Kai is fighting for his life because of you.” The words come from between Jet’s clenched teeth, venom lacing every word. His grip tightens until he can feel the soft, torn flesh give way beneath his nails.
Chalam’s smile is mocking in spite of the pain. “I was not the only one who pulled the trigger.”
Jet snaps.
His fist drives into Chalam’s jaw with a force that vibrates up his arm, the sound of bone cracking echoing in the room. But it’s not enough. Jet doesn’t even feel it. He hits him again, harder this time. Chalam's head whips back, but Jet grabs his collar, yanking him forward, locking him into place for more.
One punch. Two. Three. The crunch of bone fills Jet’s ears as blood pours from Chalam’s nose, mingling with the sweat on his face. Jet's knuckles are slick with it—Chalam's blood. It coats his hands, but it isn’t enough.
It will never be enough.
“Pathetic.” Chalam laughs, the sound thick with blood and saliva. A low, rasping chuckle that sounds like it’s gurgling up from the depths of his lungs.
Jet’s hand closes around Chalam's throat before the word even fully leaves his lips. His fingers tighten like a vice, thumbs pressing hard against Chalam's windpipe. Shut him up. Silence him. Crush him. Jet doesn’t see Chalam anymore—just a target, just something he can destroy. His grip tightens further, feeling the pulse under his hands grow weaker, more erratic.
Someone is pounding on the other side of the door, shouting words Jet can’t quite hear. They don’t matter. Nothing else does.The beeping of the heart monitor picks up speed, the rhythm mimicking the primal rage pounding through Jet’s head. His vision narrows until all he can see are Chalam’s bulging eyes, his purpled skin, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as he gasps for air.
End him. Jet’s mind is flooded with the urge to kill. Just squeeze. Crush. End him. It would feel so good. It would be right.
Blood drips from Chalam's split lip, warm and slick, mingling with the blood already on Jet's skin. Kai's blood. His grip tightens further, driven by the twisted thought that he's finally avenging his brother. Do it for Kai.

Chalam's face turns a sickening shade of blue, veins bulging from his neck. The machines scream, a frantic symphony of death. The door rattles with pounding fists, muffled shouts from the hallway, but Jet doesn't hear them.

Just squeeze. One more second. It would be so easy.

One. More. Squeeze.

Jet stares into Chalam's bloodshot eyes, and for the first time, he sees it—the fear. He could kill Chalam right now. Snuff out his life in the blink of an eye. But that's not justice. That's murder. A cold, hard truth claws its way into Jet's mind, cutting through the bloodthirsty haze.

Killing him like this wouldn't be for Kai. It would be for himself.

Jet loosens his grip, stepping back as Chalam gasps for breath. The sound of air scraping through his throat is ugly, wet, desperate. Chalam collapses back onto the bed, his chest heaving, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He's alive—but barely. Jet stands there, staring at his bloodstained hands. He's trembling, but not from fear. From disgust. He stares down at Chalam, disgusted not just by the man gasping for life before him—but by himself. He wanted to cross that line. He nearly did. But he can't. Not like this.

"You bastard." Jet spits. "Not even worth killing."

He forces himself to turn away. His heart pounds in his chest, the heat of his rage slowly giving way to cold clarity. He unbolts the door, pushing it open, letting the chaotic sounds of the world outside flood back in, the cold fluorescent lights glaring down at him like an accusation.

One of the police guards rushes inside while the other reaches out to steady Jet. He shakes the guard off, stumbling as far away from the shark's room as he can get.. His heart is still pounding, blood rushing in his ears, drowning out the world around him. . His hands, still shaking, are slick with both Kai’s and Chalam’s blood, his knuckles bruised and raw. He flexes his fingers, trying to rid himself of the sticky warmth, but it feels like it's seeped into his skin. He doesn't realize Luca is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Jet."

Jet jerks back instinctively, his breath catching in his throat. He spins, fists still clenched, wild-eyed, ready to strike again. But it's Luca standing there, his expression calm but his gaze sharp, assessing the state Jet is in.

"Easy," Luca's voice is low, even. There's no fear in his eyes—only a quiet, patient understanding. He doesn't flinch at the sight of Jet's bloody hands, or the tension still coiled tight in Jet's posture. Luca's seen worse. Hell, he's probably done worse. But right now, he's the steady anchor Jet didn't know he needed.

"I—" Jet's throat tightens. He can't finish the sentence. His mind is racing, a mess of conflicting emotions. He turns away from Luca, pressing his bloodied hands against the cold wall, trying to ground himself. But all he feels is the slick warmth of the blood on his skin. Kai's blood. Chalam's blood. "I almost—"

He squeezes his eyes shut, his head dropping forward. I almost killed him.

Luca steps closer, his voice low but firm. "But you didn't."

Jet shakes his head, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He didn't kill Chalam, but he almost did. He was ready to. Wanted to. And part of him still wants to. The thought makes him sick to his core.

"I couldn't stop," Jet mutters, his voice barely audible. "I was going to kill him, Luca."

Luca places a hand on Jet's shoulder, squeezing it just enough to keep him present. "But you didn't, Jet. You're still in control."

Jet's hands tremble against the wall. Control. He feels like he's losing it. Like the darkness inside him is clawing its way out, and no matter how hard he tries to hold it back, it keeps spilling out, staining everything. His thoughts spiral, too fast, too dark.

Luca's voice breaks through the storm of Jet's thoughts. "Kai needs you."

Those three words snap Jet back into focus. He sucks in a shaky breath, his eyes blinking open. Kai needs you. Kai needs his brother.

"His doctors sent me to find you." Luca swallows hard, eyes flicking over Jet's bloodstained knuckles before settling back on his face. "He's out of surgery."

Jet's heart seizes. The rage that had been fueling him so completely just moments ago seems to vanish, replaced by something colder. Sharper. The thought of Kai, lying on an operating table, fighting for his life—because of Chalam—makes the world tilt beneath his feet.

Out of surgery.

That should be good news. It should mean Kai is stable. But Luca's face is too calm, his words too careful.

"And?" Jet narrows his eyes, searching Luca's face for the truth, for the thing Luca isn't saying.

"They got the bullet out." Luca hesitates, just for a second, but Jet catches it. It's enough. "He made it through, but..."

Jet's chest tightens, a sudden pressure crushing the breath out of him. They don't know if he'll make it. That's what Luca isn't saying. Kai is still fighting for his life, hanging by a thread, and Jet was just in there beating a man to death. The rage that had been coursing through his veins only minutes ago feels like a distant memory now. Now there's only the cold, hollow emptiness where it used to be.

"He's... still alive?" Jet's voice is barely a whisper.

"For now." Luca's eyes are steady, but there's a weight behind his words. He knows what Jet is thinking. Knows the guilt that's starting to gnaw at him. "He's still fighting."

Fighting.

Jet slowly turns to face Luca, his face still pale, his eyes hollow. "Take me to him."

Luca nods once, stepping aside to let Jet lead the way. But as Jet walks past, Luca stops him with a firm hand on his arm, his quieter now, almost gentle. "Jet. You need to clean yourself up first."

Jet looks down at himself—at the blood on his hands, the bruises on his knuckles, the streaks of red that have dried into the lines of his skin. Jet looks down at himself—at the blood on his hands, the bruises on his knuckles, the streaks of red that have dried into the lines of his skin. Kai’s blood. Chalam’s blood. It’s everywhere. And he can still feel it. The violence, the darkness. Clinging to him.


"No. I need to be with him. I can't just stand here. I can't let him—" He shakes his head, the words sticking in his throat. I can't let him die. "I need to see him."

Luca's grip tightens, but there's a softness in his eyes now, a plea for Jet to hear him. "You're not going to help Kai if you walk in there like this. He needs to see his brother, not a monster."

A monster. The word echoes in Jet's mind, stinging sharper than any physical blow. The reality of what he almost did—what he was capable of—sinks in, the weight of it pressing down on him like a lead blanket. He glances down at his hands, the blood drying in the creases of his palms, a sickening reminder of his dark impulses.

"Do you think he'll care?" Jet's voice is raw, tinged with desperation. "Do you think Kai cares about the blood on my hands? He needs me, Luca. Now."

He brushes past Luca, urgency propelling him forward, each stride a desperate bid to reach Kai. The blood on his hands feels like a brand, a reminder of what he almost did, but there's no time to dwell on that. Not now.

"Everything's going to be ok, Kai. No one's going anywhere. I promise."

The sterile smell of the hospital hits him, mingling with the coppery tang of blood still clinging to his fingers. He can't think about the blood. He can't think about the rage that almost consumed him. All that matters is Kai.

He's fighting. He's alive. He needs me. Each step echoes in Jet's head, a mantra pushing him forward. Chalam's laughter still rings in his ears—a sickening reminder of how close he came to extinguishing life, and now he's sprinting toward the one life that matters most.
◼️◼️◼️◼️
Kai’s body is on fire. Every nerve, every muscle, every fiber of his being screams in agony. His skin burns as though it’s being peeled off, layer by layer, exposing the raw flesh underneath. Shards of glass tear at his lungs. Sandpaper scrapes inside his throat, a burning reminder of the smoke and chaos swirling around him. His vision blurs, the room tilts, and Kai is falling, spiraling down into icy darkness, a void that seems to swallow all light and hope.
Agony pulses through his leg in time to some distorted beeping he can’t quite place. He focuses on that sound in an attempt to ground himself. Half formed thoughts chase through his head, circling back to Jet. Always back to Jet.
He has to tell Jet he’s sorry. Sorry for the fights, the misunderstandings, all the secrets and lies. He’d also made a promise—one he’d never thought he’d have to keep. So had Jet.
You promised you wouldn’t disappear. You promised, Jet. Where are you? Where are you?
How long has it been since he last opened his eyes? Time seems to stretch and bend, an endless expanse of fear. He’s sinking, immobilized, freezing and lost in a tormenting maze. The isolation is overwhelming, a profound suffocating loneliness that grips him tighter than any physical pain.
The door to his room slams. Kai’s eyes snap open to a colorless blur. Footsteps, heavy and hurried, as if someone is racing to reach him. A flicker of light, of safety, pushes the darkness back. A voice slices through the fog of his mind, fighting against the roaring in his ears, clear and steady, a familiar lifeline in the chaos.
“Kai…”
That single word, his name, reaches deep into his fractured consciousness. He clings to it as if it’s a rope thrown to a drowning man. He forces his eyes to stay open, blinking against the burning light. With every ounce of strength, he struggles to pinpoint the source of the voice.
“Kai?” The face that emerges from the murky fog is unmistakable, etched with concern, bringing with it overwhelming comfort. The person he’s been wanting to see for so long is here. Jet is finally here.
“Jet…” Energy courses through Kai as he breathes his brother’s name, each syllable a desperate plea. He reaches out, fingers trembling, trying to bridge the gap between them, to confirm that Jet is real, that he hasn’t disappeared into the shadows like Kai feared.
“It’s ok.” Jet’s fingers tighten around Kai’s hand, the heat of his touch seeping into Kai’s frozen skin. “Everything’s ok.”
Jet’s grip is firm, and Kai focuses on that pressure, letting it guide him back. The strength from Jet’s hand spreads through his body, wrapping him in a protective cocoon. Agonizing cold retreats, giving way to a bone melting warmth. His heartbeat steadies, the erratic thumping becoming a reassuring, easy pulse.
“Kai, can you see me?” Jet’s tone is comforting, like a lullabye. “Are you ok?”
That’s an odd question, one Kai struggles to understand. Am I okay?
“Yeah, I’m ok.” The words feel foreign on his tongue. He looks up into his older brother’s face, desperately searching for reassurance, for the truth that they’re still connected. “Hia, you won’t leave again, right?”
Jet’s brow furrows, but he nods. “No one’s going anywhere.”
In this moment, the turmoil and pain that once consumed him are no longer a raging fire. Instead, they become a distant ache, easily pushed aside as a warmth blooms in his chest. With each passing heartbeat, the blackness dissolves. The light expands, filling the corners of the room with hope. Kai knows Jet hears him. He always does.
“Good.” Kai squeezes Jet’s hand, feeling the warmth of his brother’s love wrap around him like a blanket. Jet squeezes back, the action grounding him. Kai smiles. “I love you, Hia.”
Everything is ok.
Jet is here. Jet has him. He is not alone.
A sense of peace envelops Kai, wrapping around him like a cocoon. He feels light--lighter than he has in days--unburdened, as if the weight of all his fears has lifted. Jet’s voice is fading, but it doesn’t matter now.
Kai is safe. Loved.
Everything will be ok.
◼️◼️◼️◼️
Jet shoves the hospital room door open, the hinges screaming in protest. Mali sits frozen on one side of the hospital bed, her expression a mask of dread. Rome’s arms are locked tight around her, holding her upright, anchoring her against the tidal wave of fear that has swept through the room. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air, suffocating him, turning his stomach.
Luca catches up behind him, his breath steady. “You should wash up, Jet. You don’t want to—”
“I don’t care,” Jet snaps, cutting him off, his voice fierce. “I’m not leaving him.”
His gaze remains locked on Kai. His little brother’s eyes are glassy, skin almost transparent under the harsh fluorescents. A thin tube feeds oxygen into his nose, emitting a faint hissing sound that feels like a countdown. Each beep of his heart monitor is weaker than the last, as if the machine itself is growing tired, losing faith in the boy whose life it’s meant to sustain.
“Kai.” Jet’s knees buckle, a lead weight pulling him down as he drops next to his little brother’s bed. His hands hover over Kai’s body, trembling, afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him. “Can you hear me?”
Kai’s pain glazed eyes shift toward the sound of his name. Several agonizing heartbeats pass before a flicker of awareness crosses his face, and Jet catches a glimmer of the snarky little brother he knows and loves.
“Jet…” The name escapes Kai’s lips, more a breath than a word. His hand twitches, attempting to reach in Jet’s direction.
“Yeah, I’m right here.” Jet murmurs, allowing his hand to close around Kai’s, willing his strength to transfer into that fragile body. “Everything’s ok. I haven’t disappeared.”
“Hurts…so much…” Kai’s brow furrows, anguish etched across his face. “Can’t… breathe…”
“I know. I know it does.” Jet’s stomach twists at the sight of his brother in such agony, unable to do anything to make the pain go away. “Just hold on for me, okay?”
Kai’s grip is almost nonexistent. Limp fingers barely curl around Jet’s. Pale lips move, struggling to form words. “Don’t…leave…Hia…”
Jet's heart clenches at the sound of the word—a reminder of Kai’s snarky response to his dare at the Christmas party weeks ago.
Ok, asshole. Before I die, I’ll call you ‘Hia’.
“I won’t.” Jet swallows against the catch in his throat, emotions choking him. His free hand brushes against Kai’s face. “No one’s going anywhere, remember?”
Kai’s eyelids droop. He gives a barely perceptible nod. His eyes shimmer with unshed tears, reflecting a fear that sends a chill down Jet’s spine. “Hia…sc-scared…”
“It’s ok.” Jet leans closer, fighting to mask the desperation clawing at his insides. “It’s ok, Kai. Tell me what you need. I’m right here.”
“Need…to…” Kai gasps, chest straining against the thin hospital gown.
“What?” Jet watches helplessly as Kai’s chest struggles to rise. Each inhale seems to take longer than the last. One breath…then another. One more…
“Want…” Another twitch of Kai’s hand. Their eyes lock, and Jet sees clarity mixed with resignation.
“No.” Jet’s voice is raw. “ Don’t you dare, Kai. Not like this.”
A small, sad smile plays across the corners of Kai’s mouth. The tension in his body dissolves, the fight draining out of him. “Hia…”
“Stay with me, Kai.” Jet tightens his grip on Kai’s hand as his brother’s body gives a sudden shudder. Kai’s pulse flutters beneath Jet’s fingertips—one last, fragile thread.
“Love…you…” The words are barely audible, a ghost of sound that trails off. A single tear slides down Kai’s cheek.
“Don’t…” Both Jet’s shaking hands are clamped around Kai’s now, refusing to let go. “Kai, don’t…”
“Hia…” Kai’s hand goes slack, slipping from Jet’s grasp, leaving an empty space between Jet’s hands. Air leaks from his lungs in a soft, broken sigh.
“Kai?” Jet’s voice breaks. He stares at his little brother, begging him to twitch, to take another breath, to say something.
Kai’s eyes are closed. His chest no longer rises. His heart monitor emits a series of alarming beeps, then the long, piercing tone of a flatline.
Jet feels nothing. Not the ache in his hands, not the unshed tears in his eyes. It’s not real. None of this can possibly be real. His gaze drops to the tattoo on Kai’s forearm, dull against his skin: ouroboros. Life devouring itself. Jet’s trembling fingers trace the lines of blue ink.
You can’t leave me like this…
An unearthly sound rips from Mali’s throat. She surges forward, her fingers wrapping around Kai’s limp hands as though she can pull him back to life through sheer force of will. She screams Kai’s name over and over, her voice reverberating off the walls.
“No.” Jet cradles his little brother’s body while his little sister’s sobs rip him apart. “No, no, no…”
Luca steps forward, his face pale, struggling to contain the chaos of emotions flooding the room. “Jet—”
“Get away from me!” Jet barks, the words a raw and desperate plea. He grips Kai tighter, the reality of loss crashing over him like a tidal wave. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Not now. Not like this.”
One more time. I need to hear you say it again. I’m so sorry, Kai. Please, call me “Hia” just one more time.
But all he gets is silence, a chasm that stretches endlessly between them. Jet stares down at his brother’s lifeless face. Icy heaviness settles deep in his chest—a suffocating numbness that settles over him like a shroud. The room has become a cage, closing in.
“I you, too, Kai.” Jet is left alone, drowning in a dark void. “I promised I’d never let you go.”
But Kai is gone, and there’s no bringing him back.