Page 19

Cora

Pain.

That was the first thing I registered as consciousness crept back in.

Not the dull, manageable kind either. What I felt was the sharp, throbbing variety that made me wish you could slide right back into oblivion.

My entire body felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Twice.

I sucked in a slow breath, being extra careful as I tried to wiggle my fingers and toes.

Everything seemed to be working, so at least there was that.

Keeping my eyes closed for a moment longer, I took stock of my situation.

I knew I wasn’t in a hospital considering the butter soft sheets I was lying on. However, the smell of antiseptic was strong in the room and there was the unmistakable feeling of an IV in my hand.

Slowly, peeling my eyes open, I immediately regretted it when the bright light above me stabbed through my retinas.

I blinked several times, forcing my vision to adjust while I tried to make sense of where the heck I was. It wasn’t a hospital room; the wood-paneled walls told me that much.

Rolling my head to the side, I saw a woman sitting in a chair beside my bed. She was beautiful in that effortless way that made me kind of hate her. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, her skin was flawless, and she had gorgeous, piercing blue eyes.

Sensing eyes on her, she lifted her head and practically leapt out of her chair.

“You’re awake!” she blurted, hurrying over to the bed. “Hi. I’m Mac. Rage’s wife. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I tried to respond, but all that came out was a scratchy croak. My tongue felt three sizes too big for my mouth.

“Oh! You need water. Hang on.” Mac grabbed a plastic cup with a straw from the bedside table and carefully helped me take a sip.

The cool liquid hitting my parched throat was so good I nearly moaned. After a few sips, I managed to find my voice.

“What happened?”

Mac’s eyebrows shot up, concern flashing across her pretty face. “You don’t remember? Maybe I should get Doc...” She started to move toward the door.

Panic skittered through me as I racked my brain, trying to remember the last thing I did and what I’d done to end up in here. Before I could work myself into a full-blown freak-out, the door swung open, and standing in the doorway was my big brother.

“Braxton?”

My brother’s massive frame went rigid as his eyes landed on my face. I watched a storm of emotions cross his features—surprise, relief, and then pure, white-hot rage as he took in my battered appearance. His jaw clenched so hard I could practically hear his teeth grinding. Behind him, I spotted Rage, his tattooed arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Rage,” Mac breathed, and the tattooed giant’s expression immediately softened as he looked at her.

I watched as Rage pulled Mac to his side, his large hand coming to rest protectively on her belly. Yeah, definitely pregnant. The tender gesture made my chest ache with something I couldn’t quite name.

Braxton moved to my bedside, lowering his big frame into the chair Mac had vacated. He took my hand in his, careful of the IV line I just noticed was taped to my arm.

“How you feeling, Squirt?” he asked, his voice gentler than I’d heard it in years.

I wanted to tell him the truth, that I felt like death wrapped in a burning trash bag, but I could see the muscle ticking in his jaw and the barely contained fury in his eyes. My big brother was hanging on by a thread.

“I’ll live,” I said instead, forcing a weak smile.

He nodded, his thumb rubbing absently across my knuckles. “As soon as Doc says you’re good to travel, I’m taking you back to Miami. You’ll be safe there.”

Wait, what? Miami?

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly how likely that scenario was, which was somewhere between a snowball’s chance in hell and absolutely fucking never, when the door opened again.

Mason stood in the doorway, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His dark eyes immediately found mine across the room, and the naked emotion in them stole what little breath I had left. Love. Guilt. Anguish. Rage. All directed like a laser beam straight at me.

“Hey, baby,” he rasped.

“Hey, honey,” I replied, reaching for him with my free hand. Even that small movement sent pain radiating up my arm, but I didn’t care. I needed to touch him.

“Baby? Honey?” Braxton’s voice was deadly as he rose to his feet, eyes ping-ponging between me and Mason. His hand released mine as if it had suddenly caught fire. “What the fuck, brOTHER?” He spat out the last word. “That’s my fucking sister.”

Mason didn’t even spare my brother a glance as he moved to take my outstretched hand, his palm warm and calloused against mine.

“Told you years ago. She ain’t mine,” Mason replied, his eyes never leaving my face.

The memory of Mason telling Braxton almost those exact words five years ago flashed through my mind. We’d been at Aunt Connie’s place, and my brother was trying to warn him off.

Finally, Mason’s gaze broke from mine to meet Braxton’s glare. “What she is, is my woman.” Then his eyes returned to me, softening again. “My ol’ lady. The woman I love and one day,” —he turned back to my brother— “she’ll be my wife and the mother of my children.”

Holy. Shit.

I’d never seen my brother look so betrayed. His face went through a rapid series of emotions—shock, anger, hurt.

“Brax—”

Without letting me finish, he stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

“We’re gonna...” Rage pointed awkwardly over his shoulder, then grabbed Mac’s hand and practically dragged her from the room, leaving Mason and me alone.

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them. My brother had always been protective, but I had hoped... God, I don’t know what I had hoped.

“Hey, none of that,” Mason said gently, smoothing away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. “He just needs a minute to process, baby.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. My brother was stubborn.

“How are you feeling? For real this time,” Mason asked, perching carefully on the edge of the bed.

“Like I got hit by a truck, then the truck backed up and hit me again,” I admitted, wincing as I tried to shift positions. My entire body protested the movement.

His jaw clenched. “Doc said the pain meds would wear off about now. I’ll get him to bring you something stronger.”

“What happened exactly?” I asked, struggling to fill in the gaps in my memory.

Mason’s expression darkened. “You were at the mall with Beckett. Spike and his men grabbed you both and took you to a warehouse near the docks.”

As Mason spoke, it all came flooding back. The mall, the van, thinking we were going to die in that warehouse. The memories were so vivid, so terrifying.

“Beckett!” I cried out, struggling to sit up. “Where’s Beckett? Is he okay?” Pain shot through my ribs and up my spine, but I didn’t care. I needed to know he was safe.

“Whoa, easy,” Mason said, gently pushing me back against the pillows. “Beckett is fine. He’s been hanging out in the Matrix with Zero for the past couple hours.”

My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Matrix?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “It’s what the guys call the tech room downstairs where Zero keeps all his computer shit. The kid’s fascinated with all that stuff, apparently.”

I closed my eyes in relief. Beckett was okay. He was safe. Mason was here. We’d made it out.

“You love me?” I asked suddenly, my brain circling back to what he’d said to my brother. The words had spilled out before I could stop them.

Mason leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “Yeah, I do,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Don’t have a lot of practice saying it, but it’s true.”

I searched his face, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. There was none. Just raw, unfiltered honesty in those dark eyes.

“I love you too,” I breathed, suddenly exhausted despite having just woken up. My eyelids felt like they had weights attached to them.

“You need to rest.”

“Stay with me?” I asked, fighting to keep my eyes open.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” he promised, his hand finding mine again.

As I drifted off, I found myself hoping that my brother would come around, that he’d see how happy Mason made me. But even if he didn’t, I knew where I belonged now.

Right here, with the man who had moved heaven and earth to find me.