by Max Monroe
“Let’s go,” I said, jumping from the car before Cal could try to talk me out of it and into focus.
I moved quickly but quietly, taking cover on the side of the building to survey the surroundings before making any moves to breach the inside. Damien and Hare came out of the darkness.
“No one outside,” they told me, evidently having gotten here and done surveillance first. I glared at Cal. He’d obviously held on to knowledge of the note for a little while.
He shrugged.
“It’s like they want you to come inside,” Hare observed. “Probably a setup.”
“I’m sure. But there’s no way I’m letting my dick swing out here while Alex is in there suffering or worse.”
Damien’s jaw went hard. “We’ll go in together. Hare and I will each take out Mickey and Jaybird. Cal can handle the three underlings if they’re there, and you can deal with Eric.”
“Fine,” I grunted. Anything to get the fuck inside.
After a brief argument, everyone but me decided I should go in last.
“I’m really hating this democracy bullshit,” I muttered, and Cal, the asshole, had the audacity to laugh.
“I just bet you are.”
“Let’s go.”
As a group, we moved to the door, listening briefly for activity on the other side before storming it at once.
My ears rang as a cacophony of gunfire roared out inside the oversized, empty space, and everything slowed down to hyperawareness. Mickey and Jaybird went down nearly immediately, the thud of their bodies barely breaking through the remaining gunfire, and Bobby, Diamond, and Spade didn’t even get their guns out before hitting the ground. Jesus Christ, Cal was one ridiculous son of a bitch.
All of their guns swung to Eric as they realized I hadn’t taken him out.
“Wait,” I commanded.
Eric’s smile was evil as he looked from me to a lifeless-looking Alex. Her blond hair hung in big curls and her face seemed peaceful, but the rest of her sagged and sank in the chair like she’d crumble at any minute. I found instant relief from the rise and fall of her chest. It was slow. But it was there. Time was still on my side.
“Why?” I asked, one word voicing the only thing I cared about from Eric fucking Queen. This was about more than simple power. I didn’t know what, but I knew it was something.
Eric’s smile turned bitter. “Because I should have been you.”
I rolled my eyes, and he shouted, “Fuck you! I should have been you, you piece of shit. Little Matty Hadder, perfect son to John. You don’t know what it was like to be the son he hid.”
Cal laughed. “You’re not John Hadder’s son.”
“Yes, I am,” Eric disagreed as I studied the familiar lines of his face in a new light. His stature was much smaller than mine or John’s, no doubt a trait of his mother, but something dangerously similar to my father lived in the line of his jaw. “My mother was upper-class, young. The complete opposite of your fucking whore of a mother,” he spat directly toward me. “They were together once, but according to her, John thought I was better off outside of Wonderland. He felt like my mother and her wealthy family could provide me with a better life than he could—normal.” He laughed harshly. “Whatever the fuck that means. But then he finds out Matt’s trashy mom killed herself, and all of sudden you’re the son he never had. Because he fucking pitied you, and the fact that your whore of a mother couldn’t even keep herself alive, you became the gold fortune, the one he’d groom to take over Wonderland. But it should have been me. It should have fucking been me!”
“I knew you were his son,” I lied, knowing nothing would hurt Eric more than to feel even more worthless than he already did. “But John hated you. Always did until the day he died.”
“Fuck you!”
“No, Eric. Fuck you. Why do you think he wanted to keep you out of the organization so badly?” His eyes glistened. “It wasn’t for your benefit. It was for his. I only took you on because I felt bad for you. Fucking pathetic Eric Queen.”
He made a sudden move toward Alex, and a single shot rang out. I’d finally made my move.
But it wasn’t the kill shot. He needed to suffer.
Blood oozed from his shooting hand as he lay on the floor and cradled it, and Cal was on him in a second. Landing a kick to his ribs about a millisecond after kicking his gun away.
And now, I had a choice. Stay there with Eric, torture him until I could see straight again, until all the blood left his fucking body. Or leave with Alex and get her help.
Good thing Cal was handy with a pipe wrench.
POUNDING, THROBBING, AN ACHE THAT started in my head and ended in my toes—those were the first sensations I felt. Constant pain pierced my nerve endings, and I grimaced from the intensity. My head felt like it had literally been through a wringer—and then run through it two more times for good measure.
I blinked through the fog, through the pain, and forced my eyelids up.
Though my eyes were open, I couldn’t think of why. I couldn’t understand where I was or how I’d gotten there. The room, my hands, the woman standing above me, everything blurred together like a kaleidoscope of confusion.
My heart pounded inside of my chest, and the emptiness in my mind only brought frustration. Panic. It was as if a shot of adrenaline had been emptied into my veins.
I shut my eyes tightly and focused on calming my breaths. In, out. In, out. Deep and slow. Eventually, my heart eased into a steady rhythm, and my lungs were content with simple, unhurried breaths.
“Alex,” a female voice filled my ears. “Can you hear me, Alex?”
My eyes opened again. Like two flashlight beams, the new temporal inserts provided enough light and focus to illuminate whatever I looked at. It was like being shown the forest one tree at a time in a confusing memory game.
I squinted my gaze to get the full picture.
I was in a small room. The walls were cream. The door to the room was brown, dull and lackluster in its appearance. A TV hung from the ceiling, and just below it, was a window giving the view of the world below. In the corner were two chairs, frayed with wear and tear.
I moved my gaze down my body, taking in the white sheets, the blue gown, the IV taped to my wrist, and the probes connected to my chest and finger that led to the monitors beside me.
They beeped their introduction, and my mind finally connected the dots.
I was in the hospital. So this was either yet another real fucking bummer of a dream, or I was alive.
A woman came into view again. Sarah, RN, her name tag read, and a stethoscope hung loose around her neck. She stood beside my bed, looking down at me softly.
“How are you feeling?” she asked and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my right arm.
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” My voice strained against the dryness in my throat. I swallowed against it and tried to clear a smooth path with a quick ahem from my vocal cords.
“That’s understandable.”
“I’m in the hospital,” I announced dumbly, but her answering smile was gentle.
“Yes. You’re at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Just a little over twenty-four hours.”
“Holy hell,” I muttered. “I’ve been unconscious for an entire day?”
“You suffered a pretty bad concussion,” Sarah explained and tapped the monitor screen. The blood pressure cuff on my arm filled with air until it tightened firmly around my skin. She watched the screen for the final result.
“So, that’s why my head feels like someone tried to remove my brain with an ice pick?”
She smirked. “It’s probably a combination of the concussion and sutures you needed.”
“Sutures?” My eyes grew wide, but instantly, I grimaced. Even that little movement hurt like a motherfucker.
“You have about ten sutures on the back of your head,” she said, and immediately, I lifted my hand to feel the dry bandage secur
ed over the base of my skull.
Tears pricked my eyes when I felt the matted, mess of locks that used to be my hair. Hesitantly, I danced my fingers across the edge of the bandage, feeling the outline of where full strands turned into barely there prickly hairs.
“Did they shave my head?” I whispered.
Sarah’s eyes softened at the corners, and she gripped my hand gently. “Don’t worry,” she reassured. “They only had to shave some of your hair off to make it easier for Dr. Winters to suture the wound. And, if you wear your hair down, no one will even be able to tell.”
A shaved head was nothing in comparison to my life. The outcome could have been a hell of a lot worse. And the more memories that started to come back to me, the more I couldn’t believe that I was actually here, alive. I’d thought the instant I’d shut my eyes tightly, with Queen’s gun pressed to my head, that it would be my last. Somehow, I’d beaten the odds.
Now, I just needed to find Matt.
Does he even know I’m in the hospital?
Fuck. Is he even okay? Is he alive?
I shuddered at the thought and started looking around the room for my purse or cell phone.
“Your boyfriend is really worried about you,” Sarah said, and I moved my gaze back to hers. “He’s been at your bedside ever since you arrived. Only leaving for bathroom or food breaks. I’m sure he’ll be coming back any minute.”
Before I could open my mouth to ask her if his name was Matt, a gloriously familiar voice caught my attention. “You’re awake.”
I looked up to find Matt standing in the doorway of my room. Dark circles framed his eyes, and his normally, crisp, sophisticated clothes were rumpled with wrinkles. He looked like he’d been through the wringer. God, he was fucking beautiful.
“You’re okay,” I whispered back, and tears pricked my eyes again. But this time, they didn’t stay constrained behind my lids. They flowed freely down my cheeks and onto my hospital gown.
“Fuck, Alex,” he muttered and rushed toward me. He didn’t stop until he was kneeling beside my bed with my hands interlocked with his. He leaned forward and brushed his nose against mine before pressing his lips to the corner of my mouth. “God, I was so worried,” he whispered against my skin. “So fucking worried.”
“I’m just glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, sweetheart.” He kissed me softly on the lips before looking at my nurse. “How is she doing?”
“She’s doing well,” Sarah answered with a soft smile. “Her vitals are stable. Her assessment shows no abnormalities. I’ll have Dr. Winters come and do her evaluation. We might be able to discharge her today,” she updated and removed the blood pressure cuff from my arm. “Push the call button if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll give you two a minute,” she added and left the room, shutting the door with a quiet click.
Matt placed both of his hands on my cheeks and gazed into my eyes. “For a minute there, when I saw you unconscious, tied to that fucking chair, I thought I’d lost you.”
“You were there?”
“Yes,” he answered, and his mouth turned down into a grim line. He shut his eyes. “But I was almost too late.” He shut his eyes, and I reached up to caress his cheek.
“But you weren’t,” I whispered and reached up to caress his cheek.
He opened his gaze, and his eyes locked with mine again. We stared at one another for a long, poignant moment, and the only thing I could feel in that moment was grateful. For the way things had gone. For being alive. For Matt.
“I love you,” I whispered, and a smile kissed his mouth.
“I love you too.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine again, gently, softly, and with nothing but love and tenderness. No matter what he did with Wonderland, no matter the bad things I knew he was capable of—to me, he would always be my safe place.
I looked at him, and he looked at me. Relief. Gratitude. Love.
The beeping of the monitors was the only sound in the room as we savored the sweet silence. When you loved someone, sometimes words didn’t need to be said. Sometimes, the act of simply looking at one another spoke more than anything else.
And I savored that moment.
Well, I savored it for as long as my mind would allow. Until the questions of the why and the how started to filter into my brain. So much had happened. Some of it I understood, but some of it had left me reeling. I searched his eyes for a brief moment, and before I could say anything, ask anything, his mouth slowly morphed into a grin.
“How badly do you want to know?” he asked, and I sighed. The bastard. I swear to God, he had some kind of secret device that read my mind.
“How much am I allowed to know?” I responded, and he smiled.
“Queen wasn’t just in it for the power. He had a real fucking grudge against me.”
I quirked a brow.
“Apparently, he’s my brother,” he answered.
My eyes went wide. “He’s your brother?”
“Was my brother,” he corrected, and I fought the urge to grimace. What an awful way to find out someone was your blood relative. I could hardly wrap my brain around the fucked-up scenario, much less imagine what it would feel like to be in Matt’s shoes.
“Don’t waste time thinking about it, little one.” Matt cupped my face gently with his hand. “All that is important right now is you and me.”
His words were gentle, but I knew he was done with the conversation. Maybe one day he’d want to talk about it, but right now wasn’t the time.
“You’re right.” I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You and me. Together. That’s top priority number one.”
He smirked. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, because next time I have to travel somewhere, you’re coming with me,” he said, and I quirked a brow. But he gave zero fucks about my reaction, adding, “No arguments.”
“I can’t just go following you around everywhere you go, Matt. That would be ridiculous.”
He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit. From here on out, you’re with me. All the time.”
“So, like, everywhere you go, I go? And vice versa?”
He nodded.
“That’s going to make gyno visits a little weird,” I teased, and he smirked.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Matt said through a soft chuckle. “I’m not taking any risks. You’re too important to me.” His eyes turned serious, and he held my hand between both of his. “I’m not perfect, sweetheart, but I’d follow you into hell if that’s what it took to keep you safe. Not a single soul comes before you.”
I felt my gaze soften, felt my heart blossom like a tulip and spread its roots inside my veins.
Matt didn’t give me any time to respond to his beautiful words; he pressed another gentle kiss to my lips and then got to his feet. “Now, let’s get your cute little banged-up ass home.”
Home. I smiled.
With Matt by my side, I was already there.
“ALEX!” I CALLED, SORTING THROUGH the boxes littering my entryway with a scowl on my face.
“Just a sec!” she called back from our bedroom.
Cal was on the couch, drinking a beer, entirely too comfortable in his new role as Alex’s best friend and maid of honor. Honestly, it was some kind of twilight zone shit having Cal, a man I’d once watched remove someone’s eyelids while they were still alive, as my Alex’s favorite gal pal and confidant.
It had been six months of bliss.
One hundred and eighty days since Queen and his cronies’ diabolical plan had failed. Sure, it was a little jarring to find out the man who’d tried to destroy me, and kill the one person I loved the most in this world, was my brother, but I refused to let that revelation have an impact on me as a man.
I’d looked into it. I’d confirmed it. But I didn’t let the truth settle into my soul. I didn’t let it change me or the memories I had of my father.
I didn’t have the answers as to why he hadn’t bestowed the s
ame life on his other son. All I knew was that John Hadder had taken me under his wing. He’d raised me. Loved me. Given me a generous start in life. I owed him nothing but my gratitude.
I had no control over my father’s past decisions. Just like I’d had no control over Queen’s. I could only make my own. Sometimes, life handed you gold or it handed you shit, but no matter what, it always moved on.
Over the past six months, Wonderland had experienced big changes in organizational structure, and every day, my little Alex and I grew stronger, closer.
I loved that woman with an intensity that often stole my own breath.
Wonderland had once been my life, but now, it played second fiddle to my one and only true love. She was and always would be my top priority.
I’d proposed to her three days after I’d brought her home from the hospital. It also just so happened to be the same day I’d had all of her stuff moved in to my penthouse. Being the demanding bastard I was, I hadn’t even given her an option, merely hiring the movers and settling her into my place before she even realized it was happening.
Of course, she’d had a few sarcastic comments in response to that, but the instant I got down on one knee and asked her to spend the rest of her life with me, she’d changed her tune.
My Alex might have been feisty as hell, but to her core she was also a little romantic softy. I loved that about her. Hell, I loved everything about her. In my eyes, she’d always be the most beautiful woman to me.
Obviously, I was biased, but I guessed that was when you knew it was love, when your bias stemmed from absolute adoration.
Fuck, if it were up to me, I would’ve married her the day I asked her, but my little softy wanted to plan our wedding. She wanted to pick out the flowers and the cake and her dream dress. She wanted it all, and I wanted to give her the world.
As I glanced around the spacious living room of our new home in Beverly Hills, I sighed at the mess of boxes scattered across the floor. We’d hired movers to ease the process, but I had a feeling my woman’s stubbornness was the reason behind the current mess.
“Where are the movers?” I yelled toward her again, and she huffed.
