THE MIND-SPLITTING HEADACHE comes as no surprise when I wake up in Nico’s guest bedroom. The same one where my relationship with Thalia began.
I sat downstairs with my brothers until the early morning hours, and I don’t remember how I got to bed. The good news is that I didn’t puke, despite having six whiskeys on an empty stomach. At least the sixth is the last one I remember drinking. I might’ve had more.
I can’t recall the last time I got so wasted, but the hangover is a blessing in disguise. I’m too unwell to even think about my girlfriend’s dead husband. I’m also too unwell to scream or throw shit around, which will work in Thalia’s favor once I get home to talk to her.
Nico and Logan are downstairs when I haul my ass over there. They’d both easily pass for extras in a zombie movie—bloodshot eyes and pale faces. And to think, this is what we used to look like every weekend back in college.
“Morning,” I say, my mouth drier than the Mojave Desert. I sit at the breakfast bar, my elbows on the counter as I hang my head low, willing the kitchen to stop fucking spinning. I’m twenty-seven, for God’s sake. I should know better than to drink like I’m sixteen. “What time is it?”
“Half-past eight.” Logan throws a bottle of painkillers at me. It bounces off my head, landing on the floor. “Take two, or maybe five. Have you made your mind up?”
“About what?” I need those pills, but if I bend over to snatch them off the floor, I may not come back up.
“Whether you’ll ask Thalia to marry you.”
“What? I said that?”
Nico starts the coffeemaker, the noise like needles to my eardrums, but the bitter aroma compensates for the misery. “You don’t remember much, huh? After the sixth whiskey, you were back and forth about going down on one knee.”
“Fuck it! She married him, so she’ll marry me too. She’s not going to have his fucking surname. She’ll have mine.” Logan quotes, overly theatrical.
“What if she says no? What if I’m not the right guy for her? What if she doesn’t love me?” Shawn joins our gathering, fresh as a daisy. “You’re such a drama queen. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the gay one.”
“So?” Nico urges, smirking behind his cup. “Are we going engagement ring shopping this fine morning?”
“I was drunk,” I huff, playing it down, but my heart is going faster than a train on the tracks at the thought of Thalia becoming Mrs. Hayes. “Get over yourselves.”
“Yeah, you were drunk,” Logan says, arms crossed over his chest. “Drunk people are honest. You won’t end it with Thalia. I’ll personally kick your ass if you do because, let’s face it, you’re a lucky bastard to have her. What makes you think you’ll find another woman gullible enough to love you?” He elbows my shoulder and successfully dodges the apple I hurl at his head. “I’m joking, but for real—stop moping, put your big-boy pants on and talk to her.”
They all nod in unison, the helpful little bunch.
Fucking assholes.
They annoy the crap out of me half the time, but honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without them. They call it as they see it, and right now, I’m grateful for the proverbial bucket of ice-cold water tipped over my head because Logan is right.
They all are.
I need to talk to Thalia and get to the bottom of the issue instead of throwing the relationship away at the first sign of problems. Thalia didn’t hold me accountable for living my life as a man-whore until I found her. I’ve got no right to hold her accountable for her mistakes, but I need to hear the whole story. I need to know why she married that guy and how he died.
Shawn’s phone pings in his pocket, and blood drains from his face when he checks the screen. “Shit…” He looks up at me. “It’s Thalia.”
My headache gives way in an instant when he shows me the screen with the text from my girl.
Thalia: 911
My legs, like two tubs of water, slow me down when I run to the living room to retrieve my phone. The same text waits on my screen, sent less than a minute ago.
“Don’t call her!” Shawn yells when I’m about to dial. “You don’t know what’s happening. If she’s hiding and you call, you’ll make things worse. The phone location shows her at your condo.”
“Let’s go!” Nico booms from the door, keys in hand.
Everyone’s suddenly sober and alert. We hop into his G-Wagon while Shawn’s on the phone sending a squad car over to my place. I open the security system app to check what’s happening, and my stomach sinks.
No picture.
If the feed was interrupted, there’d be an error message, but there’s just a black screen which means the camera near the front door is covered.
I rewind the recording to when Thalia approached the door less than five minutes ago, eyes red and puffy as if she had cried all night. She opened the door, probably expecting to find me on the other side. Her beautiful face paled, and she slammed the door closed with all her might. She remembered to snatch Ares off the floor in the mayhem of fear that must’ve been running through her head, then bolted into our bedroom.
Shit. There’s no lock on that door.
She can’t hide there.
She should’ve aimed for the fucking bathroom!
Two seconds later, something covers the camera. My heart slams like a hammer, bruising my ribs. The sour taste of fear on my tongue makes me sick. I’ll tear that asshole apart when I get my hands on him, whoever he is.
“She’ll be okay. She can handle herself,” Shawn assures, trying to soothe me. “Try to calm down. We’re almost there.”
“Calm down?” I snap, my hands shaking. “Would you calm down if Jack was locked in your house with some nutcase? He’s inside, alone with my girl!”
“The squad car is just a minute away. She’ll be okay, Theo. She’s got more fire in her bones than many guys I know.”
Nico speeds across Newport like we’re in a high-budget action movie. The engine roars, and tires squeal on every corner. Seven minutes. Seven long minutes pass before he slams the brakes outside the building, leaving the car in the middle of the road.
Blue and red lights flash on the roofs of three cop cars. The door to the building stands wide open, and one officer is outside, probably securing the perimeter and keeping a crowd of bystanders from getting too close.
I sprint inside first, bouncing off the wall in the hallway, my heart in my throat as I burst through the door. “Thalia?!”
“We’re here,” a male voice shouts from the bedroom.
I’m there in a heartbeat, every muscle in my back pulled tautly. Thalia sits on the bed with Ares curled beside her, no tears staining her face. I charge straight at her and pull her to me, the touch of my hands urgent. She’s okay. She’s not hurt.
The warmth of her body soothes my unnerved mind. “I’m here,” I say, cupping her face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
A quiet whimper slips past her lips, and she goes perfectly rigid in my arms. “Don’t hold me. It hurts like hell.”
I let go, checking her over, only now noticing that her right shoulder is twisted back in an unnatural position. “What the hell happened?”
“No one was here when the first squad car arrived,” the cop explains just as Shawn joins us.
“He ran when he heard the police sirens,” Thalia says.
“But they’ve got him,” Shawn adds quickly as if he knows I need that piece of information or I’m going to flip. “They caught him running down the back alley.”
“Who? Who the fuck was here?”
“Kai.” Thalia rests her forehead on my shoulder, and I risk wrapping my arm around her middle, careful not to touch her dislocated shoulder.
Kai.
Why didn’t I think of that dipshit sooner?!
The note he left last time flashes before my eyes. I should’ve dug deeper when Shawn confirmed it wasn’t Dean or Asher. I should’ve known Kai wasn’t going to quit so easily.
You had a chance, and you blew it. Time to play.
Play.
Game on.
Fucking sick son of a bitch.
“You’re one tough cookie,” Shawn says, a small smile curling his lips. “The guys tell me you threw half of the pans in the kitchen at the guy.”
“Kitchen?” I echo, confused. I didn’t even look that way when I ran inside. “I saw you hide in here with Ares.”
“I locked Ares here, sent you two a text, and came out.” She pats the dog on the head. “I don’t know what Kai thought was going to happen. He came unarmed. He had a cloth, which I assume was soaked in chloroform, and he tried to grab me when I got out of the bedroom, but I kicked his nuts and ran for the kitchen.”
God… he was going to take her. Use her to blackmail me and force me to hand over the game.
I press my lips to her temple, unsure which one of us needs it more. “How did you dislocate your shoulder?”
The officer next to Shawn chuckles at that. “She tried to stop him from running away and slipped in the living room, landing on the coffee table.”
I don’t know if I’m more pissed off or proud. The last time Kai was here, she locked herself in the bathroom, but today she faced the nutcase head-on. She shouldn’t have taken the risk. She got hurt, and despite the brave face, she’s barely holding tears at bay. I know how much a dislocated shoulder hurts, and I can’t believe how well she’s holding up.
Where the hell is the ambulance?
I kiss the side of her head. “You’re too brave for your own good, you know that?”
“I was scared until I saw who it was. Men like Kai act tough, but they’re weak. He was unprepared and stalling, saying how you destroyed his reputation and no one in the business wants to work with him. He kept going on and on that he’s broke and wanted to be your partner, but you shot him down and left him no choice but to act.”
“The ambulance is here.” Logan stops in the doorway with Nico close behind. “You good, Thalia?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be better when I get some painkillers.”
One of Shawn’s buddies directs the ambulance crew to the bedroom, and a moment later, a young woman enters. She tends to Thalia, forcing me to move out of the way. My jaw clenches painfully when the paramedics check her over. They’re helping, but as they do, they’re causing her pain, and I can’t fucking handle seeing her beautiful eyes tear up.
“We’ll need her statement.” Shawn steers me, Logan, and Nico out of the bedroom to show us the kitchen where his buddies are taking pictures, securing whatever evidence they find. “Kai’s being detained for questioning. I’ll make sure he goes down for this, Theo, but don’t hope for much. Two years is max, considering he didn’t steal anything. All we have is breaking in with the intent to cause harm, which isn’t much.”
“He’ll walk out next year for good behavior, right?” I hiss, taking in the mayhem in the kitchen, where the contents of the cabinets lay scattered all over the floor.
“Probably, but don’t worry about it ahead of time.” He pats my shoulder, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “One hell of a woman you’ve got there.”
Nico and Logan agree, smirking under their noses when Thalia argues, rather loudly, with the paramedics that she doesn’t need to be carried out on a stretcher. She wins the battle, and moments later, I hop into the back of the ambulance, holding her hand all the way to the hospital. She’s not so rigid now that she’s on painkillers, the pain bearable if not numbed completely.
“We need to talk,” she says, her voice small.
“Not now, baby. We’ll talk once you’re better.” I graze my thumb over her knuckles. “It’ll all be over soon, I promise.”
Not as soon as I hoped.
It takes almost three hours before Thalia’s finally wheeled into a recovery room. My left-hand bears half-moon, bloody marks of her nails. She broke the skin, squeezing my palm while the doctors realigned her shoulder. I’m sure some of my teeth cracked when I fought the urge to knock out the people who were helping. Pain meds dulled her a little, but when two doctors were setting her shoulder back in place, she cried and screamed, making my stomach flip.
Now, she’s in the hospital bed, dressed in a blue gown, covered in white sheets, and asleep thanks to the IVs surrounding her bed—pain meds and a mild sedative. She didn’t need it, but the attending worried she was in shock and refused to risk a meltdown once the adrenaline wore off.
He wants to keep her overnight as a precaution. I doubt he’d do so with any other patient, but she is my girlfriend, and I’m a Hayes and the mayor’s son, so… special treatment.
I don’t fucking want her to stay overnight. I want her out of here and back home where she can wear her own clothes and watch Netflix with me all night on the couch. Back home, where I can have her wrapped in my arms, kissing her head over and over again. Where Ares can curl into a ball at her feet, keeping her warm.
I take my phone out of my pocket when it vibrates for the ninth time. Missed calls from most of the family wait on the screen, along with a few text messages.
Dad: Shawn told us what happened. How’s Thalia?
Mom: I’m on my way to the hospital. I stopped by your house to grab some clothes and toiletries for Thalia. Call me when you get this.
Cody: Pick up your phone, asshole. We’re in the waiting room. No one’s telling us shit. How is she doing?
Mom: Theo, please call me. I’m worried sick!
Nico: Call me if you need anything. I’m helping Shawn.
I shoot Dad a text and reluctantly leave Thalia alone, knowing damn well the waiting room is packed with family by now. I don’t mind. I’m actually grateful they’re here. That they give a damn. It’s reassuring to know they’re ready to help whichever way they can.
Me: She’s asleep now. Shoulder set back in place.
As expected, it’s not just Mom and Cody waiting for news. All three of my youngest brothers sit in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, along with Jack and Logan. Even Cassidy, Mary-Jane, and Amy are here, tucked in the corner, out of everyone’s way, as if afraid they’ll bite.
“How is Thalia doing?” My mother is the first one up on her feet, a small travel bag tucked under her chair. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a hug while everyone gathers around us, eager to hear the details. “I was so worried when Shawn called. Are you okay? Do you need me to do anything? I can take Ares home or—”
“It’s okay, Mom. They set Thalia’s shoulder back in place. She’s got a mild concussion, but she’ll be okay. She’s asleep now. Her doctor wants to keep her overnight as a precaution, but I don’t think that’s necessary. She’ll be much more comfortable in her own bed than here.”
I don’t want her to spend the night at the hospital. There’s no way I’ll fit in the small bed with her, and there’s no way I won’t fucking try if her attending doesn’t let her go home.
“There’s no need for you to sit here. If something changes, I’ll call you. Thalia needs the rest, so none of you will see her tonight.” I peck Mom’s head. “Don’t worry, okay? She’s tougher than she looks. You can come by tomorrow when she’s home.”
◆◆◆
I was eventually allowed to take Thalia home for the night. After the doctor huffed and puffed, adamant about changing our mind and keeping Thalia under observation. She’s not badly injured, so other than impressing my father, the mayor, he had no reason to keep her here.
After reassuring the doc that I’ll bring her back tomorrow for a check-up, he signed the release papers. Thalia’s arm is in a sling, and I’ve got a bag of painkillers and the supplies my mother brought over.
“Straight to bed,” I say as we walk inside the condo.
Ares is right there, but he’s not jumping high as per usual, as if he can sense that he shouldn’t. Instead, he stands on his back legs, sniffing Thalia’s sling.
She pats his head, still slightly confused thanks to the meds, but she nods at me, aiming for the bathroom. “I need a shower, and I think I’ll need help.” She points to the sling.
I follow her into the bathroom, pull her sweatpants and panties down, and then help her out of the t-shirt. I undress once she’s safely in the shower, standing under the stream, tilting her head to let warm water splash her face. A large bruise is already forming under her skin, a mixture of red and purple marking the shoulder, collarbone, and shoulder blade.
“How are you feeling?” I press her back to my chest.
“Tired, but I want us to talk.”
I take her healthy arm and spin her around, my mouth catching hers. She tries to block the kiss, lips in a thin line, one hand pushing me away, but I’m not having it. I grip her jaw and fight my way into her mouth until she gives up and lets me in. My tongue skims over hers, the kiss demanding but affectionate.
“I love you,” I say, resting my forehead on hers. “I love you, and nothing will change that.” I inch away but not before I peck her lips. “We’ll talk tomorrow. You need to sleep.”
She bites her lip, blinking a few times, and I think some of the droplets trailing down her cheeks are salty. “I love you too.”
“I know, omorfiá. I’m sorry I stormed out last night. I had to think and find a way to deal with what you told me.”
She bobs her head once, pressing herself to my chest. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
The unease reappears. She sounds defeated. As if she’s waiting for us to end once she says whatever is left to be said.
I push the thoughts aside, spin her around and wash her hair, probably doing a lousy job. I’ve never done this before, and Thalia’s got more hair than any woman I ever met, so it takes fucking ages. She’s silent throughout and doesn’t utter a word while I help her get dressed. I think she’s afraid that she won’t stop talking if she says one more word tonight.
