Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) (12 page)

They let me see Duke, only for a short time, and he wasn’t awake or anything. I almost collapsed the moment I stepped into the room. It was deathly silent, apart from the beeping of the various monitors strapped to Duke’s body. Those beeps were so loud in the quiet room, they made my teeth chatter. On autopilot, I stepped toward the edge of the bed, my shaking hand touching his hesitantly.

His strong body took up the entire hospital bed, and I wondered idly if they had to get a special bed for his hulky form. Many bulky body builders, stuntmen, and action stars had lain in beds such as these after hurting themselves.

I made sure he was in the best private room they had, and had Mark insist that I cover all of the bills.

Mark and Jenna had arrived not long after Zane and Mom. Mark had been all over this, making sure the press wasn’t tipped off yet and Jenna was already preparing a statement for the robbery that we were going to say this was.

A robbery gone wrong. But it wasn’t that. Duke wasn’t here because of a robbery. He was here because of me.

He wouldn’t be lying in this bed, a breathing tube down his throat, if it wasn’t for me.

A single tear trailed down my cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Duke,” I whispered, my voice drowned out by the machines.

I closed my eyes and found some semblance of strength, enough not to let any more tears fall, enough to stay upright. I squeezed his hand once more and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, promise.”

On wooden legs, I walked out of the room.

The boys and Mark were waiting in that little room for me so they could smuggle me out of the hospital. No one had leaked anything to the press just yet, and thanks to my scrubs, I had anonymity. It was only a matter of time though before some orderly, some nurse, heck even a doctor decided to get an extra paycheck and call the tabloids.

Before I knew what was going on, a huge body rounded the corner, advancing on me. I instinctively backed into a wall as Killian stepped into my space, fury pulsing off him.

“There was a fuckin’ photo?” he hissed, his eyes foreign, dangerous.

“Wh-what?” I stuttered, my breath leaving me. His anger wasn’t what did it, though that was unnerving because I’d never seen it directed at me. It was the fact he was there,
right there
. His face was inches away and his bulky body almost brushed against my smaller one. I’d banished the memory of his body against mine in the waiting room. It would drag me into hell if I thought too much on that.

“The photo!” he roared. I jumped at the increase in his voice; it seemed to shake the walls. “The one that fuckin’ psycho took while you were sleeping. The one we should have known about the moment you saw it.” His chest was moving up and down rapidly and his ice blue eyes were wild.

I found my breath and anger of my own. “That’s none of your business!” I hissed at him.

He went still. “None of my business?”

I nodded rapidly, ignoring the pain at this, both in my head and my heart. “I don’t even know why you’re here. This has nothing to do with you.”

There was a pause. A long one.

“It has
everything
to do with me!” he roared, his hand impacting on the wall beside me.

I jumped at the barely restrained violence. I didn’t recognize it. Didn’t recognize the person in front of me. That made my own anger increase tenfold. This wasn’t the Killian I knew and loved. He was gone and this stranger was trying to act like he had some right to be here.

Before we could yell at each other once more, Killian was ripped away from me.

“Get away from her.” Sam pushed him, hard, but he hardly moved. Both boys were like bulls, sizing each other up, ready to charge.

Noah stepped between them while Wyatt brought me into his arms.

“Not the place,” Noah bit out, his eyes going to the spectators who had already gathered.

Breathing heavily, Sam looked around. Some fury left his eyes. He pointed to Killian. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

Killian’s stare was glacial. “Not gonna happen.” With that promise of doom, he gave me one last look and turned on his heel and left.

I awoke in darkness. I didn’t remember going to sleep but I could remember the last thing that happened in total darkness, images of wait lurked in darkness hurtled into my groggy mind. I sat up abruptly and barely restrained my scream. My heart beat out of my chest.

“Lexie?” a deep voice asked from the corner, and all I could see was a shadow.

This time, I couldn’t restrain my scream. I let it out and then strangled it when reason and light illuminated the owner of the voice. I should have recognized it, considering I’d been living with him for four years, but I thought I deserved a pass given the state of my frayed nerves.

Noah rushed forward, his arms up, his face a mask of concern. “Whoa, babe. It’s just me. You’re safe. Promise.” He approached the side of the bed and sat down slowly, gaging my panic.

I blinked at him, trying to let my heart rate return to normal.

He reached out and squeezed my hand. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone. Are you okay?”

Before I could answer and lie and say I was okay, hoping to quell some of that concern on my best friend’s attractive face, the door crashed open.

Cue another girly and embarrassing scream from me and Noah launched across the bed, putting himself between me and the gun-wielding intruder.

The gun-wielding intruder being Killian.

He lowered the gun quickly once his gaze flickered around the room and saw no immediate threat. Ice blue eyes settled on me. Concern, similar to but a lot more intense than Noah’s, blazed in them. And something else. Something else my half-asleep and fully freaked-out body could not handle at this juncture.

“Lexie screamed,” he said by explanation to Noah’s string of curses.

I burst out of bed, feeling strangely vulnerable in that position.

“She got a fright. My bad,” Noah bit out, glowering at Killian.

Killian glowered right back. “Yeah, it is.”

I blinked away the stars that came with me lurching up so abruptly. My head throbbed and I couldn’t stop myself from swaying, the wooden floor beneath me rushing toward my face.

Tattooed arms caught me before I hit the ground.

“Jesus Christ, Lexie. Are you okay?” Noah bit out. He yanked me upright, his face a mask of concern.

Killian had surged forward at my stumble. His face was not a mask of concern; it was just a mask. A blank sheet settled over a vaguely family face that had sharpened with age and emptied with the harshness of four short years.

“You’re going back to the hospital. Now,” he declared, his voice vibrating though the room.

I stepped out of Noah’s arms, partly to assert my independence and not look like a swooning woman in a bad rom-com and partly to distance myself from Killian, who’d rounded the bed.

Noah frowned at this, but let me do it.

“I’m okay,” I said, deciding to ignore my throbbing head.

Killian’s stare darkened. “No you’re fuckin’ not.”

Noah glared at him, which was good because that meant I didn’t have to do it. The contortion of my facial muscles would be possible, but my head was pounding.

“She says she’s okay, she’s fuckin’ okay. Not up to you to argue that.”

Killian turned his glower to Noah. Any sane man would blanch at such a look. I actually flinched at the fury, foreign and unnerving, on his face. Worse, it looked like it belonged there.

I tore my gaze from the stare down and regarded my pajama-clad body. Not only did I not remember getting here, falling asleep, or leaving the hospital in general, I did not remember putting my luscious silk pajamas on, which I now hated thanks to the photo of the man who I guessed almost killed Duke. I’d planned on throwing them out, burning them, or use them as a sacrifice in a Wiccan ritual to ward off spirits, but I hadn’t gotten around to it.

I’d been busy.

Now they were on me. Someone, not me, put them on me.

“Who put these on me?” I whispered, my voice shaky.

Two dark-haired heads cut to me. Both softened from their glares. Though Killian’s gaze was hard, unfamiliar. The entire package of him was unfamiliar. I almost wouldn’t have recognized him if it wasn’t for the eyes. And the way my mangled and broken heart had started beating again the second I’d laid eyes on him, no matter the fact he was the reason for that broken and bleeding heart.

I couldn’t think of that.

Noah stepped forward again. “That was me, babe. Didn’t think hospital scrubs would be that comfortable to sleep in.”

I nodded, relieved. I remembered, with great pain, diving into Killian’s embrace after I’d gotten the news. The memory of his arms, the safety of having them around me after the years of yearning for them, nearly brought me to my knees. Nearly. But he was here. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t think of that right now. I only knew two things: I needed him gone as quickly as possible, and I would never let him know how deeply that cut went. That it never healed. That I always picked at the ugly, long, emotional scar the moment it scabbed over, letting it bleed anew. Like some kind of masochist.

The air in my room went wired, and Killian’s eyes went murderous. “You what?”

The fury in his tone was unbelievable on many levels, but mainly because Noah had seen me in various states of undress on a few occasions. I didn’t make a habit of walking around naked, but I was comfortable with him. We slept in the same bed semi regularly when we both couldn’t stand the echoes of our own loneliness. Noah made me feel safe. I loved him with all my heart. And he was also gay, so no chance of romantic feelings fucking that beautiful love up and turning it into some ugly twisted thing.

Plus, this was none of Killian’s business. He hadn’t laid eyes on me in years, how was it any of his business who put my PJs on me. I opened my mouth to repeat this sentiment out loud when someone else, someone bigger than Kill but also wielding a gun burst through the door.

He immediately lowered it.

“I heard you scream,” Zane said, rushing over to me. Killian stepped back, holding his body tight in order to let Zane through. “You okay, Lex? I would have gotten here sooner, but I had to take measures to make sure your pregnant mother didn’t follow me.”

His gaze settled on my forehead and his brows knitted together, fury covering his face like a blanket. “Fuck. Is it your head? You in pain?” he bit out.

“No,” I lied.

Zane’s eyes flared in disbelief. “You sure?”

I nodded, but again, before I could open my mouth, someone else rushed into the room. Granted, my room at our beach house wasn’t small, but it was getting crowded considering it was full of three muscly males and one pregnant woman.

“How dare you try and lock me inside the room after my daughter screams in the middle of the night,” Mom spat at Zane, only after she ran her gaze over me to make sure I was in one piece.

Zane’s gaze flickered from me to Mom, his jaw hardening. “It obviously didn’t fuckin’ work,” he growled. “Mia, for fuck’s sake, what if this was a dangerous situation? You waltz in here puttin’ our baby and you in danger, not okay.”

Mom glared at him, not balking under his considerable anger. She skirted past him to bring me into her arms, albeit awkwardly with the baby bump and all. “I didn’t waltz,” she hissed over my head. “I gracefully crept in and knew the coast was clear considering I didn’t hear any gunshots and saw Killian loitering in the doorway. If Lexie was in any kind of danger, the kid wouldn’t loiter anywhere.” She managed to say that while directing a glare at Killian, contradicting the sentiment that she might harbor any positive feelings for him.

I succeeded in hiding my flinch at her words, but Killian’s eyes blazed as they seemed to gage my reaction anyway.

Mom was blissfully oblivious to this exchange. “Plus, Lexie is also my baby. You think I’ll just let you lock me in a bathroom while I go through the various reasons for her emitting such a scream.” She shook her head rapidly. “Not happening.” She glanced down at me. “You okay, dollface?”

I nodded, my gaze going around the room. “Noah just gave me a fright. No need for two firearms and one domestic,” I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Mom squeezed me. “Oh, this isn’t a domestic. I’m saving that for later, when the baby’s asleep.” She rubbed her belly while glaring at Zane. “I don’t want pea’s memories from the womb being me stabbing his or her dad with my nail scissors.” Low and behold, she actually waved nail scissors.

I raised my brows. “Which part of that body are those nail scissors going to pierce?” I asked lightly, nodding to Zane who was wearing only jeans and no shirt, his entire inked and muscled body on display. “I’d wager that they’d bounce off him, or they might just snap on contact.”

Mom narrowed her eyes. “I’m willing to get creative finding a… soft spot.”

She actually sounded serious. “Mom, please don’t stab your husband and the father of my brother.”

She waved the scissors at him. “You don’t try and lock me away from my screaming kid ever again.”

He crossed his arms, face blank. “Not promisin’ that, Mia,” he growled. “You’re carryin’ our kid. You think I’m lettin’ you risk that? ‘Specially now? In your condition? No. You just gotta trust that I’ll keep Lexie safe. Won’t let anything happen to her.”