Caleb sat quietly in the corner, his hands clenched together, eyes fixed on Henry, who lay in the hospital bed, pale and still.
The door creaked open and Asher stepped in, his sharp eyes immediately sweeping over the room before resting on Henry.
Caleb looked up. "You did not have to come," his voice low but steady.
"I hope the surgery is successful," Asher replied simply, moving to stand by Henry's bedside. His eyes softened as they traced the bruises along Henry's arms and the faint swelling around his collarbone "You both are all I have."
The door opened again and the doctor entered with a clipboard in his hand. His white coat swayed as he approached, eyes shifting between Caleb and Asher.
"Good afternoon," the doctor began, adjusting his glasses.
Caleb straightened, tension rippling through his chest. "How is he doing now, doctor?"
The doctor glanced at his notes. "The spinal damage is moderate. There is swelling near the lower vertebrae, but the nerves were not compromised. His mobility issues will be temporary."
"Temporary?" Asher echoed, looking at the doctor. "I thought you said…" Asher started, but the doctor interrupted him.
"It is indeed a miracle," the doctor said, smiling as he looked at both Asher and Caleb. "Thanks to the national tissue banks."
"Oh, thank heavens," Asher said with relief. "He will walk again?"
"We are certain," the doctor confirmed with a nod. "His spinal cord is intact. There is no neurological damage. He will need time and rehabilitation, but he will recover."
Caleb exhaled heavily. "And the internal injuries?" he asked, looking at the doctor.
The doctor flipped a page on his clipboard. "It is non neurological. Primarily soft tissue damage and some bruising around his ribs and abdomen. Certainly not life threatening."
Asher folded his arms, his gaze never leaving Henry. "What about long term effects?"
"None expected," the doctor replied. "As I said, with proper care, he will regain full mobility. He might feel weak or off balance for a while, but that is normal."
Caleb stood, stepping closer to the bed, eyes locked on Henry's motionless face. "When will he wake up?"
"He is stable. The sedation will wear off within the hour," the doctor answered. His expression softened. "But be patient. His body has been through a lot."
"I will see you later. I have other patients to attend to," the doctor said, leaving the ward as silence settled over the room.
"Are you okay?" Asher's voice broke the silence, his eyes fixed on Caleb.
Caleb's lips pressed into a thin line. "Thank goodness he will recover from this soon."
"Yes," Asher said, looking into Caleb's eyes.
"It is all my fault," Caleb whispered, turning away from Asher, his fists tightening at his sides. "He walked into traffic because of me."
Asher approached quietly, his hand gently catching Caleb's wrist, halting his words. "You never caused any of this," Asher said firmly, their eyes meeting.
Caleb let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with relief.
Henry stirred beneath the blankets, his eyelids fluttering open. His gaze swept the room.
His voice was weak but clear. "It feels like I got run over."
Asher approached the bed, his hand resting lightly on Henry's shoulder. "You gave everyone a scare," Asher said as Evelyn rushed in.
---
The nurse signed the discharge papers and stepped aside.
Henry shifted in the wheelchair, looking pale. His arm rested in a sling, and the bruises along his jaw had faded slightly. Evelyn stood behind him, gripping the wheelchair handles.
"You ready, baby?" Evelyn asked softly.
Henry nodded without looking back. "Yes."
Evelyn pushed the wheelchair toward the exit of the hospital as Asher and Caleb followed behind.
Caleb's phone vibrated in his pocket just as they reached the bottom step.
He paused and pulled it out, his eyes narrowing when he saw Derek's name on the screen.
Caleb answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear. "Derek," Caleb spoke, watching the busy road ahead.
"Where are you?" Derek asked, his voice low and tense.
"At the hospital," Caleb replied. "Henry is discharged."
"Good. Listen… it is about Jaden," Derek said.
Caleb said nothing, still holding the phone to his ear.
"He is missing," Derek added. "We cannot find him."
"Are you sure this is not one of his stunts?" Caleb asked, forcing his tone steady.
"Caleb, it has been two days," Derek said, frustration clear in his voice.
"Two days?" Caleb's attention sharpened. "Where are you now?"
"Downtown," Derek replied. "The police are on it. Thought you should know."
---
At dawn
Jaden hung by his wrists from reinforced chains, his feet barely brushing the concrete floor. His lip was split, fresh bruises swelling across his jaw, and his face was bloodied and disfigured.
A thin stream of blood trickled from his nose, staining the collar of his once expensive designer hoodie.
The faint sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the empty hall. Jaden lifted his head slowly, his vision blurry, only to freeze in shock when he saw who it was.
Asher.
Jaden let out a faint groan, his swollen eyes barely able to stay open. "Asher?" he whispered, blood and saliva dripping from his mouth.
Asher walked forward, his eyes devoid of emotion. "You were at Henry Thompson's apartment the night before," he stated flatly.
Jaden's breath caught in his throat, fear flashing through his battered eyes. "I… I do not know what you are talking about."
Without a word, Asher reached inside his suit and pulled out a gun, pointing it directly at Jaden's face.
"I went to visit him," Jaden stammered, his voice shaking. "But he acted cold the whole time… that is all. You can ask him yourself."
Asher's jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "He cannot answer," Asher said coldly. "He is fighting for his life… because of someone like you."
Jaden's eyes widened, panic overtaking the pain etched into his expression. "Fighting for his life?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "I swear… I do not know what you are talking about."
Asher's gaze never left him as he began to circle slowly, each step controlled and deliberate. His eyes burned with restrained fury beneath his composed exterior. "You do not want to talk… fine," Asher muttered, turning silently to leave.
Without a word, two men approached Jaden, tapping metal rods against their palms with slow, threatening rhythm.
Jaden's heart pounded as terror clawed its way through him. "Please… please do not leave me with them," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.
Asher paused mid step. He pulled a cigarette from the pocket of his coat and placed it between his lips. Striking a lighter, the small flame illuminated his sharp features for a fleeting moment. He took a slow, measured drag, the smoke curling from his lips in thick, ghostly tendrils.
"If you are willing to tell me what I want to hear," Asher said without turning around.
Jaden's head dropped, blood and saliva dripping from his mouth onto the floor. His body trembled. "What do you want to hear?" he rasped weakly, his voice barely holding together.
Asher exhaled smoke, still facing away, his voice cool and composed. "Good. Give me every detail of that night until dusk," he instructed.
Jaden forced his head up, pain radiating through every inch of his body. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Asher's broad shoulders as tears rolled down his cheeks, and for a moment, silence filled the hall.