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Chapter 44

last update Last Updated: 2025-04-09 19:29:09

Carlo

How Blaze and I managed to drop our defenses and set our differences aside still baffles me. It’s like we spent years burying something real beneath layers of resentment—hatred we clung to so tightly, we forgot what even started it.

Ever since that night he saw my tattoo, things have shifted. There’s this magnetic pull between us now, like gravity finally gave up fighting. He’s loosened up around me, more open, more… him. It’s almost hard to believe we were ever at each other’s throats, and somehow, that contrast makes every moment with him feel even more addictive.

But the more I accept how deep I’ve fallen for this idiot—the same one I’ve been pretending to hate for years—the more I start to unravel. I’ve known it since that damn first night: I love him. And now that I do, everything feels more fragile. He keeps putting up this wall every time I try to move us forward, like he’s scared of what it means. Hell, maybe I am too.

What if I cancel the contract? Will he walk away? Wi
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    Carlo“I need to piss. Don’t start a fight while I’m gone. I mean it. I’m watching you two.” Blaze says, standing from the table with his phone already in hand.I don’t even wait until he’s out of sight. The second he’s gone, Felix’s eyes cut into me like knives.“What the fuck are you planning, Carlo?”I lean back in my chair, chewing slowly. He looks like he’s about to rip the tablecloth off and wrap it around my neck. Good.“Planning? What the fuck do you mean? I’m enjoying a nice dinner with my boyfriend.”He glares at me, jaw tight. “Don’t fucking call him that. You know exactly what I mean. This shit you’re pulling, whatever the fuck it is—I’m not letting you drag him down with you.”I scoff. Loud. Like it’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard all night. “Drag him down? You think I forced him into anything? Please. He’s already mine. You just can’t handle the fact you’re the closest person to him and still couldn’t grow the balls to say how you feel.”His hand twitches on the table. For

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    Blaze“Fuck this leg.”That’s the first thing out of my mouth the moment I swing my feet off the damn bed. The ache’s not new, but today? Shit, it bites harder than usual. Feels like someone took a hammer to my thigh while I slept. I try to stand. Bad move. My knee gives a little warning jerk, and I bite my lip to stop myself from yelling.It's been four fucking years. Four years of dealing with this shit and pretending it’s fine. But this morning, I feel it more. It’s like the pain wants to remind me, “Hey, you ain’t healed, dumbass.”I limp into the bathroom, cursing under my breath, holding onto the wall like an old man. When I catch my reflection, I almost laugh. Messy hair, eyes half-dead, lips pressed tight. I look like I fought with a truck and lost.I splash cold water on my face. My leg throbs. I grit my teeth.Carlo’s still asleep in the other room. I can hear his soft breathing. I don’t want to wake him. He’ll fuss, and I’m not in the mood for him acting all worried like I’

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    Blaze“Carlo! Wait!” I shout as I swing the door open and limp out of my fucking room like some cracked-up one-legged pirate. I don’t even bother checking if I’m fully dressed or if my hair looks like I got in a fight with a fucking lawnmower. I just hear the jingle of his keys and the front door opening, and my dumbass instinct kicks in—I gotta talk to him. Before he leaves. Before I lose my chance.I hate how desperate that sounds. I hate that I’m even chasing after him like this. But fuck it. I don’t care right now. I just need to catch him.My good leg hits the first step, but the other one—the one that’s been screaming in pain for days now—decides it wants to ruin my life today. My foot slips. My knee gives out like a coward, and then everything fucking crashes.I fall. Hard.“FUCK!” I yell as I hit the stairs, slide halfway down, and land like a bag of broken bones. The kind of fall that knocks the breath out of you. My vision goes white for a second. My ears ring. Everything hu

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    Carlo“Four fuckin’ hours, doc. You sure that’s normal?”My voice sounds like shit, dry and rough from too much pacing and zero fuckin’ sleep. I’m leaning against the wall outside the OR, arms crossed so tight my muscles are starting to cramp. Felix’s long gone—he couldn’t sit still, said he’d come back later. I don’t blame him. It’s hell just waiting. Every fuckin’ second feels like I’m stuck in a pressure cooker.The nurse doesn’t answer. Just tells me again to wait and walks off like I didn’t just ask that for the third goddamn time.So I wait.I keep checking the double doors like Blaze is gonna walk out himself. Dumb. Fuckin’ dumb. He’s cut open, knocked out, leg sliced up while they try to fix something he should’ve handled years ago.I should’ve forced him.I should’ve noticed the limp sooner, the way he tried to hide how bad it was getting. I should’ve dragged his stubborn ass to the hospital myself. But no—I had my head too far up my own shit.Four fuckin’ hours.I don’t sit.

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    Blaze“The fuck is taking so long?” I mutter, mostly to myself.No one answers.Felix has been pacing the hallway for like thirty minutes straight. Dude looks like he’s about to start ripping his own hair out. His shoes are squeaking against the floor every time he turns—back and forth, back and fucking forth like a trapped animal.Inside the room, it’s quieter. Too quiet.Carlo hasn’t moved in over ten minutes. He’s just sitting there, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the meaning of life or some shit. He hasn’t said a word since the nurse came in to tell us it was time. He looks calm, but I know he’s not. His jaw’s tight, and every now and then his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to do something. Or maybe just trying not to freak the fuck out.Meanwhile, I’m lying on this hospital bed with a goddamn IV in my arm and all these beeping machines hooked up to me like I’m a science project. I can’t stop fidgeting. My fingers keep twitching. My fucking leg

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    Chapter 55Blaze“Call Felix.”That’s the first thing I say when Carlo walks back into the room.My voice is low, barely above a whisper, but steady enough. I’m not yelling. Not barking. Just… tired. Fucked up. In too much pain to be angry, too aware of how real this is now.Carlo pauses in the doorway, his eyes on me. I don’t even look at him. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling like it’s got answers written on it.“Please,” I add, because I don’t wanna be a dick to the one person who’s been here through all this. “Just call him.”He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t ask why. He nods once and slips back out the door.I close my eyes. Try to breathe. Try not to feel like everything inside me is splitting open.30 minutes later, the door flies open like someone kicked it in.“Where the fuck is he?!”I know that voice. That voice could wake the dead. Felix storms in like the goddamn apocalypse. And the second his eyes land on me—hooked up to tubes, leg elevated, looking like a fuckin’ corpse—

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    Blaze“What… What the heck did he say?”I mutter that shit under my breath, eyes still shut, body stiff, pretending like I’m out cold. I hear the doctor’s voice, low and clipped, but every damn word slices through the fog in my head.Infection, my legs got that bad cos the old bastard abandoned me in the most crucial moment.Now, I still need to do the surgery after limping all these years… Fucking amputation? Amputation is certainly not something I want to accept ever.My chest tightens. I don’t move. Don’t twitch. I just lay there like a goddamn corpse while my brain starts spiraling. My leg aches like hell, deep, hot, pulsing pain that’s been eating at me for weeks now. I thought I could handle it. Push through. Like always.But hearing that? That I might lose my fucking leg?No. No, no, no.The memory hits me like a truck. That race. The way my bike skidded, the screaming metal, the crunch when I hit the pavement. The blood. My leg bent at a sick angle. That shit’s branded into m

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    Carlo“I need to speak with the doctor. Alone.”I say that shit flat, no emotion, just enough edge in my voice that the nurse doesn’t argue. She nods like she understands and walks out of the room. I wait till the door clicks shut, then I drag my hand over my face, grip the back of my neck, and let the silence press down on me.Blaze is asleep—or knocked out, whatever. Still as hell on that damn hospital bed, wires everywhere, his face pale like he’s about to disappear. I hate hospitals. Fucking hate this place. The smell, the beeping, the waiting… the fucking helplessness.He didn’t say shit. Not one fucking word about the pain. Not last night. Not this morning. Not in the car ride when he sat there like a damn stone, jaw clenched, arms folded, refusing to look at me.The door opens again and the doctor steps in. Same one from earlier, tall, mid-40s, glasses that keep sliding down his nose. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.“You said you needed to talk?” he asks, pulling out t

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    Blaze“Carlo! Wait!” I shout as I swing the door open and limp out of my fucking room like some cracked-up one-legged pirate. I don’t even bother checking if I’m fully dressed or if my hair looks like I got in a fight with a fucking lawnmower. I just hear the jingle of his keys and the front door opening, and my dumbass instinct kicks in—I gotta talk to him. Before he leaves. Before I lose my chance.I hate how desperate that sounds. I hate that I’m even chasing after him like this. But fuck it. I don’t care right now. I just need to catch him.My good leg hits the first step, but the other one—the one that’s been screaming in pain for days now—decides it wants to ruin my life today. My foot slips. My knee gives out like a coward, and then everything fucking crashes.I fall. Hard.“FUCK!” I yell as I hit the stairs, slide halfway down, and land like a bag of broken bones. The kind of fall that knocks the breath out of you. My vision goes white for a second. My ears ring. Everything hu

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    Blaze“Fuck this leg.”That’s the first thing out of my mouth the moment I swing my feet off the damn bed. The ache’s not new, but today? Shit, it bites harder than usual. Feels like someone took a hammer to my thigh while I slept. I try to stand. Bad move. My knee gives a little warning jerk, and I bite my lip to stop myself from yelling.It's been four fucking years. Four years of dealing with this shit and pretending it’s fine. But this morning, I feel it more. It’s like the pain wants to remind me, “Hey, you ain’t healed, dumbass.”I limp into the bathroom, cursing under my breath, holding onto the wall like an old man. When I catch my reflection, I almost laugh. Messy hair, eyes half-dead, lips pressed tight. I look like I fought with a truck and lost.I splash cold water on my face. My leg throbs. I grit my teeth.Carlo’s still asleep in the other room. I can hear his soft breathing. I don’t want to wake him. He’ll fuss, and I’m not in the mood for him acting all worried like I’

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