obsessively mine

CH#27 HIM

I stood frozen as she vanished behind those doors, my hands stained with her blood-blood that I didn't shed, but the guilt weighed heavy all the same. It felt like my soul had been ripped away, leaving me numb. The red soaked into my skin, a reminder of my failure.

Marco approached, his face pale with terror, but it wasn't fear of the situation that had him shaking. No, he was afraid of me.

"Sir-" he began, voice shaky, but I cut him off sharply.

"If anything happens to her, Marco..." I turned my head just enough to look him in the eye. "Know that you're dead. And you'll pay for it with your soul."

The words came out raw, with more effort than I'd ever felt. Marco went silent, his throat visibly tightening as if his guilt had crushed whatever reply he had.

Alfred was beside me now, sitting, his face hollow with the same torment that burned in me. We had both failed her-failed to protect her, failed to keep her past from finding her again. The burden was crushing, a reminder that no matter how strong I thought I was, I couldn't shield her from the world or myself.

More than an hour passed before the doctor emerged. Both Alfred and I jumped to our feet as if we'd been on edge the whole time, which we were.

"She's stable now," the doctor said, calm and reassuring. "One of her ribs is fractured, so you'll need to be careful. She'll need time to heal."

"Can we see her?" Alfred asked before I could get a word out.

"You can," the doctor replied. "But make sure you don't disturb her. She needs rest." He nodded toward me before walking away, offering a faint smile of reassurance.

I was about to go to her room when Alfred placed a firm hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

"You're not going in there," Alfred said sternly, his eyes cold as steel. "Not unless Miss Owner herself gives the order." His voice carried the weight of years of loyalty and a warning. With a light shove, he pushed me back, stepping into the room without waiting for my response.

I sank into the nearest chair, my body heavy with exhaustion, frustration eating at me like a slow burn. The minutes dragged by, and my mind swirled with the image of her-broken, hurt, and I couldn't do a damn thing to take it all away.

Finally, Alfred emerged from the room, his expression torn between fear and something that almost looked like pity.

"Miss Owner is calling for you," he said, his voice firm, but something flickered in his eyes.

I stood instantly, about to rush inside when his hand gripped my arm, forcing me to stop.

"She knows." His voice was low, the weight of his words undeniable. "She knows who told you everything about her. Just... don't lie to her."

I nodded to Alfred, my stomach churning as I stepped into the room. The sterile smell of the hospital surrounded me, the only sound the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping her stable. Stacey lay on the bed, facing the window. The soft glow of the setting sun painted her figure, but she didn't shine the way she used to. Her skin was pale, her once vibrant eyes dull, hollow, and broken- almost as if she was a ghost of the woman I knew.

She turned her gaze toward me, and in that moment, I saw the depth of her pain, the pieces of her shattered heart lying just beneath the surface. It was a sight she never wanted me to see. I forced a faint smile as I walked closer, but before I could say a word, she spoke first, her voice weak but laced with an eerie calmness.

"I'm sorry for being a disappointment again," she said, her voice tinged with a bitter edge. "For surviving when maybe I shouldn't have."

"Stacey, don't." My words came out rushed, desperate. "I never wanted to shoot you. I never-"

"Yet you still let someone else do it for you?" Her voice cut through me like a blade, sharp and cold.

"I never knew Marco would-" I started, but her words crashed over mine.

"So it was Marco?" she asked, her tone biting, her hollow eyes locked onto mine, searching for something the truth, maybe more betrayal.

"Yes... but listen to me-"

"No, Vince. You listen to me." Her voice hardened the flicker of the strong woman I knew rising to the surface. "Your men don't take a single step without your command. Especially not Marco."

"You're wrong." I stepped forward, pleading with her to understand. "I didn't order this."

Her gaze shifted, colder now, distant. "Get out, Vince. I don't believe you, not after everything." She winced, the pain of her injury catching up to her, but her resolve was unshaken. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

"Stacey, please," I tried again, but she cut me off with a louder voice, pain rippling through her words.

"Get out, Vince!" Her eyes squeezed shut as the pain of her injury and her emotions collided. She opened them again, softer now, her voice trembling with something much deeper. "I swear, if I didn't love you like you're my breath, I would've put a gun to your head myself by now." Her voice cracked. "But I can't... I can't because every part of me still loves you. And it kills me."

Her words knocked the air out of my lungs. There it was confession, and it hurt far worse than the coldness I had expected.

"Now, get out."

She didn't have to say it again. The weight of her words pressed down on me, heavier than anything I had ever faced. I stood there for a moment longer, watching this broken, beautiful woman who loved me against all reason it killed me that I was the one who had hurt her the most.

Without another word, I turned and slowly walked out, each step feeling like I was leaving a piece of myself behind, torn between wanting to stay and knowing that, for now, I was the source of her pain. I didn't want to cause her anymore.

The door closed softly behind me, but the echo of her words lingered in my mind, cutting deeper than any wound. I started to walk while Marco followed me, his voice shaky and desperate as he tried to match my pace.

"Sir... sir, listen to me. I-I didn't know anything. I pulled the trigger for your safety. I thought she was about to harm you but-"

I slammed him against the wall, my hand gripping his throat, my body trembling with rage. My fingers tightened around his neck as I gritted my teeth.

"Just because of your fucking presumption, you did that to her. Who told you to get inside in the first place? Did I? Hm?"

"Sir, I-" Marco choked, clawing at my grip, his face turning red as he gasped for air.

I released him with a sharp shove, disgusted, and turned away without another word. My anger was still burning, but I couldn't kill him. Not yet.

Marco coughed and stumbled behind me, but I didn't care. I kept walking, each step drawing me further away from everything I had ruined.