From Bullets To Billions-Chapter 217: The Light Fades

Joe sat only a couple of meters away from Max and Aron as the two spoke in low, urgent tones. Even though there was chaos all around them, nurses shouting for supplies, doctors moving swiftly down the hallways, and whispers passing between onlookers, Joe could feel the desperation in the air like a heavy blanket pressing down on them all.

Most eyes were locked on the unusual team of doctors that had rushed in earlier, clearly not part of the regular hospital staff. Their presence alone had caused a commotion, the kind of attention that didn’t go unnoticed. But Joe... Joe was focused on something else entirely.

He had caught part of the conversation, just enough to hear a name. A name that didn’t just pass through his ears, but seemed to echo in his brain.

Stern? Stern? Joe pressed his fingers to his temples, furrowing his brow. Where have I heard that before? It rings a bell... but I can’t quite put my finger on it. ƒreewebɳovel.com

He paused, frustrated that the answer danced just out of reach in his memory.

Whatever. Who cares about a family name right now? I just want to know if Jay’s okay...

Eventually, the adrenaline and stress began to catch up with Max. More than any fight. More than any moment he had spent running for his life. This was different. This was a fear he couldn’t punch or outthink.

Aron had gently guided Max into a seat, placing a hand on his shoulder to ground him. The three of them sat in silence after that. Watching. Waiting. Hoping.

They saw people come and go. Some left with joyful relief in their eyes. Others collapsed into sobs as they received the worst kind of news. And then there were those, injured, bandaged, alone, quietly wheeled in and out of rooms, surrounded by nothing but the beep of machines and sterile white walls.

"They’re doing everything they can," Aron said, breaking the silence. "This is the same team that helped you once. The best of the best. They know what they’re doing."

Max gave a slight nod but said nothing at first.

He knew Aron was right. He didn’t doubt their skill or dedication.

But he also knew, sometimes, no matter how skilled, no matter how fast the response or how advanced the medicine, some wounds just couldn’t be undone. Some lives... couldn’t be saved.

And in this new life of his... he had already lost one.

Now, was he going to lose another?

"Aron..." Max finally spoke, his voice low, gravelly, as if every word cost him energy to form. "Jay saved my life."

"I know," Aron replied. "You told me, "

"I’m not just talking about now," Max cut in. "I mean before. Back when everything started."

Aron turned to face him, listening closely.

"There was this time... Dipter and his group, they jumped me. All of them. Weapons out. I’d been stabbed, here." Max pointed to his shoulder. "They were chasing me down. I thought it was over."

Aron’s eyes widened slightly. He remembered now, he had seen that wound once, blood soaked through Max’s clothes. Max had brushed it off at the time, saying it was just a graze.

"I only survived... because Jay stepped in," Max continued. "He went against them. Didn’t even hesitate. Pulled me away, gave me a chance to escape. That was how we met. He barely knew me, and still, he decided to save me."

Max clenched his fists, jaw trembling.

"And now... now he’s like this. Again. Because of me."

His voice cracked.

"He didn’t think about himself. Not even for a second. He just... he picked me up with that ridiculous strength of his, and threw me across the street. Saved me again. And now he’s in there, fighting for his life."

"If he didn’t do that," Max said, his voice tight with emotion, "we both would’ve been hit. And maybe... maybe we both would be lying in that hospital right now."

A heavy silence settled between the three of them. No one spoke. The weight of those words hit hard, especially because Joe and Aron had never truly known how Max and Jay’s friendship had started. It had been short, but in that time, they had built something real. Something deep.

A bond forged through selfless actions, not just shared experiences.

"People like Jay..." Max continued, his eyes fixed on the floor, his jaw trembling. "They don’t deserve to leave this world. He never even wanted to be part of this kind of life. He never enjoyed fighting. Not once."

Max looked up, his voice shaking but firm.

"But he fought anyway. Because he had to. Because he was born big, naturally strong, and all he ever wanted was to protect his little sister. That’s the kind of person he is. He’s all she has. The two of them... they only have each other."

He turned away, biting down on his lip. "What is she supposed to do if Jay can’t look after her anymore? How’s she meant to deal with life... without her brother?"

"Max, don’t say that," Joe said quickly, his voice cracking as well. "You’re talking like he’s already gone. But he’s not. He’s in there. He’s fighting. Don’t think about what’s ahead until we know what’s happened."

But Max couldn’t help it.

As a leader, he was trained to always think ahead. To calculate risk. To prepare for the worst-case scenario. His mind was wired that way, it had saved his life more than once. But right now, that same instinct was tearing him apart.

He wanted to believe Jay would pull through, but every minute that passed, every hour without news, pushed his hope further and further away.

"I really like Jay too," Aron said softly. "He’s one of those people... you just know. From the first moment. He’s a kind soul. Honest. Loyal. Someone who doesn’t belong in a world like this. You’re right, Max. People like him shouldn’t be the ones to go."

The three of them sat in silence after that. Not the awkward kind, but the heavy, shared grief kind. The kind that stretched minutes into hours.

And then, finally, the light above the operating room clicked off.

Six hours had passed. The sun had long dipped below the horizon. The waiting room was quiet now, mostly empty. But Max, Joe, and Aron stood immediately. Their hearts were in their throats.

A man in white emerged. One of the specialists, brought in personally by Aron through the Stern family’s resources. His eyes looked tired, his face unreadable.

Max hadn’t even thought to ask what this had all cost. What kind of money was being spent on the emergency response, the doctors, the equipment. He, the same person who scrutinized every cent, who obsessed over his vow and profits, didn’t care. Not this time.

Not when it was for someone who mattered.

The three of them approached, standing in front of the doctor as he stopped, hands clasped in front of him.

He looked at each of them in turn, Max, Joe, Aron, before speaking.

"We tried our best," the doctor said softly. "And he fought... for a really long time."

The pause that followed was like a knife.

"But unfortunately... he has passed away."

Updat𝓮d fr𝙤m fre𝒆webnov(e)l.com