“What?”
“It’s just… wow, I’m happy for you. I think this is great. It’s love—the real kind you make sacrifices for. The kind where you scream ‘screw it’ to everyone else. That’s envy-worthy.”
I arched a brow. “Not quite sure any part of my life is envy-worthy right now, considering that Alex thinks I’m her
“Hey, you know, that could be—”
“Don’t even go there.”
“Okay. Okay. But it will get better.” His familiar gaze flicked up, meeting mine. “You’re doing okay, Aiden. Better than most would do in this… situation.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, shifting my bundle. “So are you.”
“I know.” Deacon grinned. “I’m just awesome.”
“And modest.” I stopped in front of him, lowering my chin. “Seriously, how are you holding up?”
He shrugged. “Been through worse, so don’t worry about me. You have enough on your plate.”
Not worrying about Deacon was going against nature. I’d spent the last decade of my life worrying about him—maybe a little too much. Smothering him instead of supporting him.
Deacon tipped his head back, suddenly looking much older than seventeen. “Go get some rest—shower first, though.” A quick flash of a grin appeared. “We’ve got the watch for now.”
I nodded, handing over the proverbial reins. Stopping at the bathroom door, I turned back to him. “Deacon?”
He brushed a curl out of his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I know about you and Luke, and I don’t care as long as you’re happy. Just do right by him, and you know what I mean.”
His mouth dropped open, and for once, it was me surprising my brother and not the other way around.
I didn’t even go into my bedroom, opting to place Alex’s clothes on a shelf and clean up first. After a long and hard look at myself in the mirror, I acknowledged I did look…
And I came to a complete standstill.
Alex was curled on her side on top of the bedspread, her hands folded under her chin as if she was praying. Her lips were parted and rosy. Two curvy legs peeked out from under the robe, immediately drawing my attention. I’d always loved Alex’s legs.
She was fast asleep.
Setting her clothing on a nearby chair, I went to her side and called her name. She murmured something, and I felt a damn flutter—an actual
Backing away from the bed, I left the room and stalked through the quiet house. Downstairs, off of the basement, was a small room that was nothing but four cinderblock walls. Someone had strung a punching bag from the ceiling.
Pent-up frustration and helpless anger reared its head, and a second later, my bare knuckles crashed into the worn, tough leather. I went crazy, and while each punch brought a spike of pain across my hand, I welcomed it.
Hours passed as I jabbed and kicked. Sweat poured off me, stinging my eyes and the torn skin along my knuckles. Physical pain did nothing to dampen the torment building inside me.
In a flash, I was taken back to the past summer, when I’d seen Alex doing the very same thing, after she’d discovered the truth about her mother. She had been a fierce, beautiful creature as she’d whirled around the practice dummy. A cyclone of raw emotions had reached out across the training room, tapping into my own mixed-up feelings. When she had sensed my presence and our gazes locked, as crazy as it sounded, I’d felt what she had.
Dragging in a ragged breath, I stopped and looked over my shoulder toward the door. Why I’d been expecting to find her standing there I’ll never know. Of course, the doorway was empty.
Alex was empty.
I went back upstairs, grabbed a towel from the dark bathroom and cleaned myself up. Back in the bedroom, I glanced at the oversized couch pushed up against the wall, and then grabbed a thin quilt off the end of the bed. Every cell in my body demanded to be close to her, but it seemed wrong. If she woke with me beside her, I was afraid it would upset and confuse her. That was the last thing I wanted. Easing down on my side, I spread the quilt out and watched her sleep until exhaustion pulled me under.
CHAPTER 7
ALEX SLEPT FOR NEARLY TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, WAKing up minutes before I caved to my growing concern. Late in the night, we went downstairs and, between the two of us, we just about cleaned out the fridge. She was still fidgety and would only do something if I told her to, but by the time morning came around, she’d loosened up enough that it was almost like being around a very calm and sedated Alex.
We moved from the kitchen to the sunroom and stayed there. She didn’t talk to me unless I asked her a question. After investigating every flower and plant in the room, she sat on one of the window seats and remained there, gazing at the thick woods that surrounded the safe house.
I sat beside her, on the other end of the window seat, surprisingly content to just be there with her. I wanted to know what she was thinking and each time I asked, the answer was the same.
“Nothing,” she said, not taking her gaze off the glass walls.
That was like a cut to the chest, but not as bad as when there’d be footsteps in the hallway or voices nearing and Alex would lock up. She’d look away from the woods then, staring at the closed door. Panic would fill the brown and amber eyes. Solos came into the sunroom at one point, checking to see if we needed anything from the nearby town.
The only person she didn’t freak over was her uncle. Was it some kind of leftover familial bond? But even then, she treated him the same way she treated me. Marcus had the same amount of luck that I did drawing her into a conversation. After that, I decided it would be best to keep her away from the rest of the household.
Finally, after hours of being together, her eyes focused on me. I pretended not to notice, but I was aware of her gaze traveling down.
Alex moved suddenly, slower than she normally would, and grasped my hands in hers. “Your hands…”
Stunned that she was even touching me, I couldn’t respond. Like an idiot, I sat there as her thumbs smoothed over the bones in my hand, stopping short of the raw knuckles.
“You’re hurt,” she said. “Why are you hurt?”
As gently as I could, I pulled my hands free. “I’m not hurt. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Her lashes swept up as she searched my face. Then she nodded and settled back, staring down at her own hands with a frown.
She tired quickly after that, becoming lethargic before it was nine. I managed to get her to eat before I took her back upstairs. She was out the minute her head hit the pillow, and I retreated to the couch. We repeated the same action the next day, and it was like there was a giant clock over our heads, counting down the minutes until I’d need to give her another dose.
We spent the morning in the sunroom, but I coaxed her out of that room, mainly because I was going to lose my ever-loving mind if I had to look at another plant again. The den was always occupied by my brother, Lea, and Luke, but there was another sitting room upstairs that was full of books. I took her up there after grabbing a bag of chips and a grape soda for her to snack on.
I watched her move around the room, looking for signs that she was growing antsy. She stopped in front of a desk, picked up a pen and then placed it down. Her fingers roamed over the top of a notepad, and then she
