Page 33

T he knock sounded harder than it needed to.

It reverberated through the suite, sharp and sudden, too loud for a room that had only begun to settle. The kind of knock that wasn’t a request—it was an announcement.

Morgan’s brow furrowed. They hadn’t ordered room service. They hadn’t rang down at all.

He didn’t check the peephole. Didn’t ask who it was.

He assumed.

That was the first mistake.

Because the man standing there wasn’t a man at all. He was a perversion.

Lex’s face—but on the wrong body. Thicker. Broader. More muscle than Morgan had seen on anyone.

Lex’s tan, except artificial. More orange than gold.

Lex’s hair—same tousled blond, but swept back. Too much gel.

Lex’s smile —all teeth, no soul behind it.

The only thing it didn’t have was Lex’s eyes.

It was off. Just enough to twist Morgan’s stomach. Like someone had held up a photograph and tried to sculpt it from memory. The angles were right. The colors matched. But the edges bled into something other.

“Hi,” the thing said, chipper. “I’ve got people to collect.”

Morgan didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

Shock seized him in place. His mouth hung half-open, tongue too thick to move, mind too slow to register whether he was breathing.

That was the second mistake. One he realized too late.

The thing’s gaze slid right past Morgan’s frozen frame—lit up when it found what it was looking for behind him.

And without invitation, it shouldered into the suite. The scent of something artificially citrus clung to him as he passed, wafting like cheap aftershave. He didn’t look at Morgan again. Not really. His eyes were fixed on Lex—locked in with a hunger that had no place on a someone else’s face .

“Are you better?” he asked, like this was some casual reunion. “You looked like shit at the club. Not in a hot way. Just really fucking shitty, you know?”

Now it made sense.

This… thing. This ghost wearing Lex’s skin —this was the fracture. The one that shattered Lex into unrecognizable pieces. The one Lex had no words for, just silence and panic.

Morgan hated it. Immediately . Hated how close the resemblance was. Every small detail. Studied. Memorized. Rehearsed until it passed.

Down to that smirk.

“You need to leave. Now, ” Morgan said, firm enough to leave no room for question.

But the blond just kept on going. Unbothered. Uninvited.

“I tried texting a couple months back,” it said, grinning like Lex and him were in on some private joke.

“You didn’t respond. I figured you went AWOL—but then I kept seeing stuff.

Articles, press releases, pictures from events.

I saw your name on the DVC site and I knew —I knew you were still in town. You were just laying low.”

Of course he was busy.

He was with Morgan .

Not some wide-eyed mutt with a sickness so deep even Morgan didn’t want to touch it. And Morgan had touched everything .

“Noah,” Lex started, too shaky. “I—”

“You remember camp?” Noah interrupted, stepping closer to Lex. “You got sick. You were shivering so bad, and I stayed with you. Held your hand all night. You said it helped. That’s what I’m here to do now. Help.”

Morgan’s fingers twitched at his side, jaw locked. He could feel the itch building behind his eyes, tight and dangerous. He glanced at the drawer where he’d stashed the kit with the knife .

He could put it through Noah’s throat. It wouldn’t take much. One nice, clean slice.

But that would mean escalation.

If he moved too fast, Lex might get caught in it.

Some piece of him was going to snap first. Either anger, or sanity.

And he couldn’t afford either. Not with someone like Noah. Not when they were all tangled up in the same thread.

You didn’t touch Sterling staff—especially a Collector—unless you were ready to be spoiled meat.

Lex’s voice was cracked glass. “That’s not how it happened. At all. I wasn’t sick, you had—”

“I know what happened,” Noah cut in. Sharp.

“And then like, five months later, you disappeared. Your mom married that old-ass man, and you were gone . I kept thinking—what if I’d told someone how she was treating you?

What if I’d followed you? What if I hadn’t let you go?

Maybe you wouldn’t be so screwed right now. ”

He said it like Lex had been kidnapped. Like Morgan had taken him.

No.

Lex had come home.

Their past was twisted. Bruised and bleeding. But it was theirs. No one else got to rewrite it.

“Get out,” Morgan said.

One last warning. This thing didn’t even deserve that grace.

Noah didn’t blink.

“Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you?” he asked Lex, taking another step forward. “After everything we shared? I know you, Lex. You gotta see that.”

“N—no, you don’t,” Lex whispered. He took one step to the side. Closer to Morgan.

Noah’s smile dipped a fraction. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped, the brightness in his voice fraying at the edges. “You know what, never mind. You’re just scared, right? But it’s okay now! I’m here. We can go home together.”

He looked so proud of himself. So sure.

Like he thought he was the only one in the room who had the answers.

But Morgan knew the truth.

Obsession didn’t love. It didn’t nurture.

It possessed.

Morgan had seen it first hand.

And Noah? Noah didn’t want Lex’s safety.

He wanted his heart in a jar on the shelf.

But Morgan already had it.

Morgan’s hand moved slowly to the dresser, wood creaking beneath his fingers as he slid the top drawer open. It was much too quiet now. Even the low hum of the air conditioner felt heavy. Loaded.

That small sound—drawer hinges too old—seemed to catch Noah’s attention.

“I’m here to get my people,” Noah said. “That’s it. But if I see a gun or some other shit, whatever happens after is on you .”

Morgan didn’t flinch. Didn’t pause.

Noah thought he could control the room with a warning. But Morgan had already done the math. A little blood was survivable.

Losing Lex wasn’t.

He pulled the knife from the kit and held out his other hand to Lex, palm open, steady.

“Lex, we’re leaving,” he said softly. “Right now.”

Lex took one step closer.

“ Fuck you. ” Noah’s voice rose, the chipper bleeding away into something more animal than human. “ I’m saving him. He’s not going anywhere with you.”

While Morgan was alive? That was the only place Lex was going to be.

With him .

But he didn’t get a chance to move before Noah lunged.

Fists collided with Morgan’s ribs—sharp impacts that knocked the breath from his lungs in a single rush. Another strike clipped his jaw. His head snapped sideways, the world blurring for half a second.

Morgan slammed into the wall, barely registered the dust drifting from the impact, curling in the stale air. But he didn’t drop.

The knife swung out—sloppy, too fast.

He wasn’t thinking. Wasn’t focusing.

He shouldn’t have let this thing in Lex’s skin get to him. Get inside the cracks of his restraint and pry him open for the world to see.

But he must’ve landed it.

Blood bloomed bright and thick, soaking through the white tank top Noah wore.

Noah powered through it.

“ Every second, ” Noah snarled through gritted teeth, slamming Morgan back again. “Every second I imagined what I’d do when I finally got my fucking hands on you.”

Morgan’s arm snapped out—another wild strike. The blade sliced into Noah’s left shoulder.

It didn’t stop him .

Noah hit him again and again—constant, relentless.

Morgan didn’t feel Noah’s fists.

But he knew something was going to give.

Soon.

He knew by the sudden lag in his vision, the way the floor tilted sideways, how his knees folded without warning.

His body was burning itself out. Again.

Fracturing under pressure he should’ve been able to manage.

Not like this. Not now.

Then Noah grabbed him by the front of the shirt, yanked him forward, and threw him.

Morgan hit something—the coffee table? The end table? Didn’t matter which.

The wood groaned and shattered underneath him, and the air was gone again.

The crackling noise in his chest hadn’t been there before.

Lex’s scream tore through that soft, black haze.

“ Noah—stop! ”

Morgan heard it. Faint and hollow, like a distant echo. And it hurt —not physically, but somewhere deep. Somewhere close to the edge.

It was the first real dose of fear he’d tasted in a long time.

Morgan pushed up, scrambling, body slow to respond. Muscles sluggish. He ducked another blow by inches.

He tried to swing again—knife-hand twitching—but those nerves had stopped responding. His arm hung there, trembling.

He stumbled.

The floor slanted swimming with late-afternoon shadows and broken wood .

Noah surged forward again—

—and Lex moved. Just a blur. Too fast, too reckless.

Noah’s arm caught him on the upswing and flung him like a rag doll. Lex slammed into the dresser. Wood cracked. The whole wall seemed to tremble with the sound.

Lex crumpled.

That sound— that sound —Morgan would remember. Forever.

Lex. On the floor.

Lex. Coughing. Too strained.

Gasping for air.

Lex. Bleeding.

Something inside Morgan stopped functioning, and he couldn’t tell if it was his heart or his brain.

Across from him, Noah’s face warped in horror. He spun around, tripping over his feet as he kneeled beside Lex.

“Shit. Lex—Lex, I didn’t mean to— fuck, I’m so sorry —I didn’t see you —are you okay?”

Noah must not have been paying attention.

Must not have seen Lex shift.

Didn’t see the tremor in Lex’s hand as it closed around the knife Morgan had dropped.

Didn’t see the glint of steel, dull with blood.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—Lex, I would never—on my life, I wouldn ’ t dream— ”

The blade went in.

Clean. Deep. Right side. Morgan saw it hit beneath the ribs .

Lex didn’t drop the knife. He gripped it like it was part of him—something he’d never put down again—something that belonged there.

His hand shook.

Lex’s voice came soft. So soft.

“You’re sick, Noah.”

It wasn’t cruel or angry.

It was tired. Cracked. Meant to put something down and never pick it up again.

Noah froze.

“I used to think you were just annoying,” Lex went on, breathless, “but you’re not. You’re… you’re fucked up . Something’s not normal in your head.”

“You’re my family . We were—”

“ No . We are not family.”

Lex stood. Wavering.

His knees wobbled, but his spine stayed straight. Bruises blossomed on his arms, dark under the skin. There was a cut near his elbow. A split lip.

Still, he moved. One step. Then another.

And he stopped in front of Morgan.

Not hiding. Not cowering.

Shielding.

“You touch him again,” Lex whispered, barely audible. “And I’ll kill you.”