The first thing that hit me when I woke up was the smell. Sterile. Sharp. The kind that stings your nose and clings to your skin. Antiseptic. It made my head pound. Slowly, my eyelids fluttered open, and the world came into focus—blurry at first, but gradually clearer.
I was in a hospital room.
The soft hum of machines surrounded me. Beeps. The steady pulse of a heart monitor. And my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, drowning everything else out. My body felt heavy, like I'd been hit by a truck.
But more than that I was alive.
But Jason- where was he? Was he okay?
The thought alone sent a tremor through me, a ripple of fear so deep stole the breath from my lungs.
Images flashed behind my eyelids. Jason standing between me and danger, his body shielding mine, the wild desperation in his voice when he told me to go.
He hadn't even hesitated.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, blurring the sterile lights above me.
If something had happened to him, if he had fallen because of me—I didn't know if I could live with it.
He was stubborn, reckless, infuriating—but he was also the one who had carved his way into the broken pieces of my heart when I hadn't even realized I was still capable of feeling.
Jason wasn't just a person to me anymore. He was a promise. A beginning I hadn't dared to hope for.
And now, the thought of losing him cracked something open inside me—something raw and wild, a grief not yet real but already unbearable.
I needed him to be alive.
I needed him to come back to me.
Please, Jason...
Where are you?
I tried to sit up, but pain exploded in my chest, my body screaming in protest. I winced, my head spinning as I reached for the IV in my arm. The beeping of the heart monitor grew louder, like it was mocking my heartbeat, slow and erratic.
"Janica..."
The sound of my name sent a shiver down my spine. That voice. Deep. Soft. Familiar.
Relief flooded me so fast that it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.
For one dizzying moment, I thought I was dreaming because that voice meant he was alive. He was here. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it, the raw emotion crashing over me like a wave.
But something was off.
Something in the way he said it made the air grow thick with tension, and my stomach twisted painfully.
I turned my head, and there he was.
Jason.
His face was bruised, the edges of his jaw swollen and raw. There was blood on his shirt dry and dark along his collar. But his eyes? They were the worst part. Darker. Haunted. They looked at me like he was seeing something I wasn't ready to face.
"Jason…" I whispered, my voice cracking, as I tried to sit up again, ignoring the agony in my body. "You're alive."
His gaze was fixed on me, intense, almost unreadable, as if he were studying every inch of my face. The seconds stretched, each one like an eternity, until he finally spoke. "I'm not going anywhere."
The way he said it quiet but with so much force behind took my breath away. His eyes that had always held a storm of emotions, were darker now. There was something raw in them, something that sent a flutter of relief through me. Even with the bruises marring his face, the blood staining his shirt, there was a sense of safety in his presence.
His words, simple as they were, wrapped around me like a promise, a reassurance that made my heart both ache and soar.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, trembling. "What happened? Who were they?"
Jason moved closer but stopped just short of touching me. His eyes never left mine, his hand hovering near mine but not quite reaching. It was like he was afraid I might pull away, and I almost did.
My chest was tight with frustration, but I couldn't bring myself to leave him hanging. Not after everything that had happened.
"I'll explain everything, Janica," he said, his voice low, rough. "But not here. Not now."
Something in the way he said it set my nerves on edge. My pulse quickened, and I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. I didn't trust him. Not fully. Not after everything we'd been through. His words were too guarded, too vague. There was a weight in the air—a secret he wasn't telling me, and I could feel it, pressing against my chest, each beat of my heart louder than the last.
His hand reached out to mine, but instinctively, I pulled away. My body tensed. I wasn't ready to forgive him. Not yet. Not after everything he'd put me through—after he'd left me alone in the dark with no explanation. The hurt was still fresh, gnawing at me. I hadn't asked for any of this.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "For everything. For dragging you into this. For leaving you when you needed me."
I couldn't look at him. The words hung in the air, suffocating. My chest tightened, and the pain I felt—physical and emotional—was unbearable. I wasn't ready to hear him apologize. Not now. Not after everything.
"I don't want your apologies," I snapped, my voice rising despite the pain that lanced through my chest. "I want answers. I want to know why I'm involved in all of this. Why they were after me. And why the hell you think you can just waltz back into my life like nothing happened."
Jason stood up abruptly, his hands running through his hair in frustration. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. "It's not that simple, Janica," he said, pacing across the room. "You're involved because—"
But before he could finish, a loud bang cut him off. It wasn't a door slamming, or something dropping — it was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.
The sound sliced through the room, sharp and violent, sending a shockwave of adrenaline crashing through me.
Jason's entire body tensed, like a coil snapping tight. His head whipped toward the hallway, instincts kicking in faster than thought.
For a heartbeat, fear carved deep lines across his bruised face — not fear for himself, but for me.
"Down!" he barked, his voice a command, raw and sharp, already moving between me and the door like a human shield.
Instinct took over. I didn't think, I just moved. My body crashed to the floor with a grunt, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through my shoulder—the same shoulder that had already been torn open by the bullet. I gritted my teeth, biting back a scream as the burn spread through my muscles, but I didn't stop. My knees slammed down first, my palms scraping painfully across the cold tiles as I pressed myself closer to the ground, the pain almost making me dizzy.
Each breath was a fight, the sharp sting of my injury making it hard to focus, but I had to get out of sight, had to get low. I flattened myself against the cold floor, my arms trembling as I hugged the ground, doing everything I could to keep from making a sound.
My heart pounded in my ears, almost drowning out the chaos—the screams, the shouting, the rush of footsteps—
—and then I saw him.
A masked man burst into the room, dark clothes, gun raised.
Jason was faster.
He lunged at the attacker, grappling with him near the door. They struggled, knocking over a tray of medical supplies. Jason slammed the man against the wall, trying to wrench the gun from his hands.
For a moment, it seemed Jason might win—until the masked man twisted free and spotted me.
Our eyes locked for one awful second.
I barely had time to flinch before—
Bang!
The shot rang out,
deafening and final.
The walls shook with the blast, the sharp crack still ringing in my ears. I clenched my teeth, fighting the searing pain in my shoulder, forcing myself to stay still, to stay alive.
Jason's roar ripped through the chaos, raw and desperate. Through the haze, I lifted my head weakly—just enough to see him collide with the masked man, fists flying, bodies crashing against the walls.
They struggled for a breathless second before the attacker landed a brutal blow, sending Jason crashing to the floor.
A cry tore from my throat as my head dropped back down. Blood spread beneath me, warm and sticky against the cold tile, soaking through my clothes.
In the blur before darkness took me, I saw the masked man stumble toward the door—and disappear into the chaos.
Jason tried to reach for me, dragging himself across the floor.
But everything was slipping away.