The Bound Collision

Chapter 22

FOURTH'S POV:-

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the crushing weight of my grief. I can't remember how many days I've been here— three, four, maybe five. Time has blurred into a relentless haze of pain and numbness. I can't believe how quickly everything changed, how my entire world was shattered in just a few hours.

I still clearly remember that call, the one that turned my blood to ice. The voice on the other end, claiming to be the Cartel's leader, still haunts me. His evil laugh, dripping with malice, echoes in my mind. I thought he was dead, but he isn't. That bastard is still breathing with my parent's blood on his hands.

 The rage I feel whenever I remember his voice is overwhelming. I want to find that bastard and skin him alive for what he did. He informed me about the accident with such pride, claiming it was his doing. At first, I thought it was a sick joke, but then the pictures came through, and I knew it was real. The images of the wreckage are seared into my memory. 

I remember frantically heading towards the place, still trying to convince myself it was all a joke, my heart pounding in my chest. 

And then, out of nowhere, Gemini appeared. Even in the midst of my grief, his presence surprised me. When I realised someone had shot bullets I thought it was the Cartel, I thought they had laid this whole trap to lure me till here, but when my car door flung open....I was astonished to see....Gemini-

 I still couldn't wrap my mind around what he was doing. I remember the rage I felt when he simply dragged me to the car locking me up. But then....he took me to where I wanted....I never expected him to be there, to see me in such a vulnerable state. The shame I felt was immediate and intense. Out of everyone in the world, it had to be Gemini who saw me break down. 

I hate that he witnessed my tears, my weakness. But then, he hugged me. I tried to push him away, but his arms were strong, holding me tightly. 

To my complete disappointment, I found a bit of comfort in that embrace. That warmth and solidity were something I desperately needed, even though I didn't want to admit it. but never expected that warmth to come from him. It was the last time I saw him, and now, I can't even bring myself to face him. The thought of looking into his eyes and seeing pity or concern is unbearable.

My mind wandered back to that voice. I can't stop replaying that call in my mind, the sound of the Cartel leader's voice, the pride in his words. I left that bastard half dead while the whole area was engulfed in huge blazing flames-How the fuck did he make out alive. As the immediate pain subsided all I wanted was revenge.

"But don't get it twisted—I'm just the messenger. The one you really should fear? He's the one who made this happen. Lets say your father messed with a very wrong man-"

I remember that line clearly, so the cartel leader isn't the target-there is someone else above him, someone else who is behind all of these-

 I want to make him pay for what he's done. But for now, all I can do is lie here, consumed by my grief and my anger, and hope that, somehow, the pain will become more bearable.

I lay there, sinking deeper into the abyss of my grief, when a knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I tried to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would go away. But the knocks persisted, growing louder and more insistent. Reluctantly, I called them in.

The door creaked open, and my Uncle Aun and Ford walked in. Seeing Ford, I realized that he too had been suffering. His eyes were red and puffy, his face a mask of pain and exhaustion. He settled beside me on the bed and pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back, feeling a brief flicker of connection amidst the overwhelming sorrow.