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 secured 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.