Bursting into tears at the police station, Kazimir told the detectives everything in the interrogation room. He didn't want to go to jail. He didn't want Emmett to die. He didn't want the detectives to realize how awful of a human being he really was.

"Samantha attacked Emmett, so you stabbed her?" Detective Bailey asked, trying to clear everything up.

"Yeah, that's what happened." Kazimir nodded, wiping away the runny snot and tears from his face.

"Why would Samantha do this?" Detective Lindel followed up, frowning as he scrutinized the artist.

Kazimir sniffled. "She's upset with me for being with Emmett. She already stabbed me before. It's because she thinks he killed her lover and your old partner, Luca Patterson."

After giving his statement, Kazimir was placed in a holding cell at the station. He begged them to give him updates on Emmett's condition, but nobody bothered to listen to him. All Kazimir could worry about was whether or not the gang leader would survive. Samantha already died. Nobody else needed to.

Hours passed unbearably slowly, but to his relief, lawyer Daniel Coleman came to rescue. That man sure knew how to do his job, as he brought in security camera footage from the art gallery to prove Kazimir acted in self-defense. One of the rebels must've called him. Within minutes, Kazimir was released since they had nothing to hold him on Hank's murder and only had his self-defense claim.

Daniel offered to get Kazimir something to eat and drink, but he politely declined. Any food he ate would just come back up. He knew he couldn't stomach it. His only concern was ensuring Emmett's safety and hurrying to the hospital to see him. Their plan had failed and only got Emmett severely injured.

"Thank you again," Kazimir told him as they made their way toward the entrance. "You're a lifesaver."

Daniel chuckled. "We protect our own, you know that by now. Emmett worried more about you than himself, telling me to get my ass over here to help you out."

Emmett sent him? Even in his critical condition?

Daniel led him outside through the back so no inquisitive reporters or citizens could harass him. Police sirens echoed amid the gale. Kazimir scrunched his nose at the miasma permeating from the dumpster. Snow flurries alighted his face as he hurried to keep up with the lawyer.

Daniel unlocked the doors, allowing them both to climb in and escape the cold. Despite how heat furnished the car, Kazimir couldn't stop shivering. He wiped his bloody hands on the dark dress pants.

Another text vibrated in Kazimir's pocket, but he ignored it too. He just wanted to reach Emmett and make sure he would be okay. His injury worried the artist. Emmett claimed it had been nothing but a mere flesh wound, but he wasn't a doctor. He couldn't diagnose himself.

To the artist's relief, the hospital came into view soon enough. He was so anxious to get in there and make sure Emmett was okay.

"Thanks for the ride," Kazimir told him.

"No problem. You stay out of trouble, young man." Daniel gave him a warning glare. "You seem like a nice guy, and I won't always be able to get you outta trouble."

Kazimir forced a smile as sweat gathered on his brows. "Don't worry. I'll keep out of trouble."

He made no promises on that.

🎨

Blustering wind nipped his face as he hurried up to the hospital entrance. Several police cruisers parked in the lot, meaning the place was swarming with cops. With it being an attempted murder case, they needed them present at the hospital.

The few people gathered in the waiting area gave Kazimir shocking glares and whispered among themselves. He looked down and realized he was still covered in blood. It didn't matter. He needed to find Emmett.

"Are you injured?" Came the receptionist's concerned voice.

"No, it's not my blood," Kazimir replied. "Um, I'm here to see Emmett Larson. He should've just came in a few minutes ago."

"Ah, you're his husband? Emmett told us to make sure we brought you in after his surgery," the receptionist told him.

Husband? Kazimir froze for a moment before realizing Emmett's clever scheme. Only family and spouses could visit him in the ER.

"Oh, okay. Thank you. Do you know how long it'll be before I can see him?" Kazimir asked. "How's he doing? Do you know?"

"He's in surgery right now. Our trauma unit's doing the best they can with him."

Kazimir had no choice but to settle down in the waiting room. People rubbernecked him, especially those damn police officers. He hoped none of them heard about the husband remark and questioned him about it. There were a million ways that would end terribly. Some asked nosy questions about his condition. He just ignored them. He didn't need to answer them.

An officer named Hallie Lansing spoke to the receptionist, who brought a nurse out to speak to her. Kazimir suspected it had to do with Emmett's condition.

Did the receptionist lie to him? Kazimir couldn't hear their conversation over the chattering old women beside him. He couldn't read their lips either but their expressions were grim. Kazimir couldn't help but worry the worst.

He checked his endless messages. Most came from the gang members. They didn't know what had happened. The police and reporters hadn't got a hold of the full story yet.

The message that stuck out to him most was from his sister, Everly. She wanted to be updated on Emmett's condition. So Kazimir stepped out of the waiting room and down the hall, near the elevator. A pristine quiet place where nobody would disturb him.

Kazimir slouched to the ground as sobs ricocheted from his trembling body. "Hello?"

"How's Emmett doing?" Everly's panic-stricken voice reached his ears. "I just got a call from Alfie, saying he was stabbed and at New Syracuse Memorial hospital."

Kazimir sniffled. "He's in surgery right now. I don't know anything else."

"What the hell happened?"

Kazimir looked around the barren hallway before replying, "Samantha attacked him. He sent me a message to come help him, but she came back. I... I had no choice. I had to..." Kazimir couldn't finish his sentence. His sobs choked him up.

"Shit. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?" Everly told him.

"I don't know what to do," Kazimir whimpered, phone trembling in his hand. "I'm scared."

"I'm on my way. Just sit tight, okay?" Everly ended the call.

Standing on unsteady feet, Kazimir wandered around until he found a restroom. Turning the faucet on, he removed his glasses and splashed some icy water in his face. He scrubbed his hands with some soap and water too.

Snatching some paper towels, he scrubbed at the congealed blood until it faded from his face in the mirror. Dark circles around his eyes made him resemble a raccoon. His left eye was swollen from where Samantha clocked him a good one. As he tried to scrub the blood stain out of the white western shirt, Samantha's bloody face came to mind. Even now, he still heard her gurgle on her own blood.

Before Samantha died, he confessed Luca's true killer. Why had he done that? Was it to clear his guilty conscience? If so, it wasn't working. He'd be haunted by Samantha's murder until the day he died. Clutching the soggy crimson towels in his hand, he grasped the marble sink for support. The room spun him in circles; Samantha's shrill screams pounding in his head.

Kazimir struggled to block it all out. He needed to get high. The coke would take away all his grief, his pain, his feelings... Staring into the mirror again, he confronted gaunt soulless eyes in the form of a child. The little boy looked so scared.

Reaching his hand out to the boy, Kazimir touched the glass without it affecting the child.

Blood now covered the emaciated boy. His shirt was tattered and shredded, and bleeding lacerations covered his stomach. "I didn't want to be this way. I was made this way! You made me this way. You made me a monster!" Kazimir shuddered at the disturbing grin on the young boy's face as his skin peeled off, leaving nothing but raw red flesh. The boy's jaw literally dropped off, blood oozed from where the muscle was supposed to be attached. He emitted a piercing screech and lunged for Kazimir with a blood-stained knife. In the grip of Kazimir's silent freak-out, he reeled back and winced, shielding his face with his arm.

"Get out of my head!" Kazimir screamed. "Get out!"

Reality crashed down around him. The bloodied child was nowhere to be found and the faucet water still ran. It happened again. The disturbing hallucinations. They always came to him when he got scared. As he'd gotten older and stayed high, they rarely came to him. The young child was him; what he'd become. A murderous little monster.

Kazimir wasn't crazy. Raking his hands through his messy dark brown hair, he tried to convince himself that he hadn't snapped into madness. He needed some cocaine. Pulling his phone out, he regretted the text he typed out for Everly. As if she had time to worry about his cocaine problems. But she understood how addicts were, especially during times of panic and fear.

Sneaking a glance at the mirror again, Kazimir realized he looked awful. Downright pitiful. No wonder the people in the waiting room gawked at him. He resembled a corpse.

After cleaning up the best he could, he returned to the waiting room. Officer Lansing still chatted with the nurse. Kazimir found a seat away from everyone by the window, where he watched the traffic drive by. They all had their own bustling lives to tend to.

He preoccupied his time with some boring magazines and checking social media. Milada Van and her crew went live outside the art gallery. Her short brown hair buffeted in the wind as she accused Kazimir of murdering someone else. She didn't obtain all the evidence yet, as she didn't release Samantha's name. Kazimir assumed someone leaked information about there being a dead body found there. That could've been anyone.

"Kazimir." Officer Lansing approached the artist, giving him a pitiful smile. "Nurse Graham here wants to give you a check-up, okay?"

Kazimir met the petite nurse's gaze. Her curly black hair fell over her shoulders. She adjusted her pink-framed glasses as she checked something on her little clipboard.

"Do I have to?" Kazimir asked, looking down at his dress shoes.

"Nobody's forcing you to do anything here," nurse Graham told him. "It's just a routine checkup, okay?"

The artist understood why Emmett didn't want to go to the hospital. It already had him on edge. They even wanted to prod him, despite ensuring the paramedics at the scene that he was perfectly fine. In the end, Kazimir succumbed to the persistent nurse. It burned time he had to spare.

After his little examination by a doctor, he returned to the waiting room. Officer Lansing offered to buy him supper down in the cafeteria, but he declined her offer. He had no appetite. Too much worry and stress weighed on his mind.

Everly soon arrived too. She was distraught over Emmett being stabbed too, but he was glad to have her there by his side. Biting his lip, Kazimir resisted the urge to ask her for the coke. Not while the officer was present. He had to wait until he was alone in Emmett's room.

Soon enough, a pretty petite nurse called out Kazimir's name, gesturing for him to follow her back to Emmett's room. He sprung from the seat to greet her. Everly followed close behind him.

"Is he okay?" Kazimir asked the nurse.

"Your husband's in good hands with us," she told him. "His surgery went well."

Kazimir relaxed a bit. "That's a relief to hear. I've been worried sick about him."

Everly gave him a half-grin as they walked down the hallway, nudging Kazimir's shoulder. He gave her an innocent grin back. It was all thanks to Emmett's clever lie that he could see him so soon.

The nurse led them down the pristine, narrow hall that reeked of cleaning solution. They hung some landscape paintings on the walls in a futile attempt to bring a speck of life to the place. Emmett's room happened to be the second to last on the floor. Kazimir couldn't be more relieved when the nurse allowed them entrance inside, where the gangster laid on the mattress.

Emmett looked like he wanted to kill someone. His dark glare sent shivers down Kazimir's spine as Everly hurried to his bedside, hugging him and chastising him for being so careless with his life. Kazimir followed close beside her and hugged the gangster after her. He leaned close and whispered something soft enough that only Kazimir could hear.

"Get me the hell out of here."

It didn't surprise Kazimir how he wanted out of there. Emmett hated that hospital. That was why he relied on his underground doctor, Sal, who prescribed him whatever he wanted. Sal didn't care about the gang leader's health and well-being. Only his own fat pocketbook. Kazimir wanted Emmett to stay under New Syracuse Memorial Hospital's care a little longer. Just to ensure he'd be okay.

The doctor dropped by later to discuss treatment with them. He knew about Emmett's addiction, despite how the gang leader kept mumbling about the few marks on his arms being bed bug bites. Neither Kazimir nor Everly tried to deny Emmett's problem either. They even agreed to try getting him in the rehab program the doctor recommended.

When the doctor left the room, Emmett said, "I'll burn that fucking place to the ground if you try to send me there."

They didn't try pushing rehabilitation on him again. Kazimir was just happy that Emmett survived. Guilt still gnawed at his heart like a bunch of maggots for killing Samantha. Had he not killed her, she would've killed Emmett. So his prime focus now was helping the gang leader get better.

When the nurse left, Everly passed him a small baggie of cocaine. He dumped it out on Emmett's bed tray, using his credit card and a plastic straw to snort the drug. Despite how Emmett wanted to share some too, Everly wouldn't let him. Not while he was still under the hospital's care. Emmett was pissed off while Kazimir got high in front of him, but the artist had to. If not, he'd be consumed by his agony. The hallucinations would drive him insane.

Not long after they'd arrived, Emmett soon drifted off to sleep. His surgery had worn him out. Kazimir thought he looked so peaceful, so innocent. He couldn't resist combing his fingers through the gangster's soft blond hair. Emmett didn't stir against Kazimir's touch. He slept like a lazy cat, outstretched on the uncomfortable-looking hospital bed.