Page 35 of These Shattered Memories

N o, please,” I whisper. “Lexie. No. You have to wake up. Please. Please don’t leave me.”

He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t wake up.

The room around me spins. Tears I have not shed in a long time flood my eyes all at once. Sharp, crushing pain sears my body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this. I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified.

Alex lies on the floor, his face pale and his lips an awful blue. It reminds me of that girl in Summit and the thought makes me want to vomit.

“Lexie. Please, baby. You can’t go. You can’t leave now.”

He still doesn’t wake up. His body heavy and completely slack and all I can let myself think is that he can’t be dead. He can’t be gone. Not when I’ve just gotten him back.

“Rowan?” I think I hear Xander’s voice come up behind me.

I’m kneeling on the dirty carpet, Alex still in my arms and he’s not breathing. He’s not breathing. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“You have to wake up,” I hear myself say again, but it doesn’t feel like I’m in my own body anymore. It’s like I’m watching a different Rowan from above, shaking Alex violently.

Xander kneels next to me, reaching for Alex’s neck with two fingers. “There’s a pulse,” I hear him say. “He’s alive. Rowan, he’s alive. We need to go.”

But I don’t believe him. Xander would happily let Alex die and tell me he’s alive instead. I know he would.

Alex looks— dead . His lips have turned blue, his neck is bruised and there is bloodied rope burn on his wrists.

No. No .

“Rowan, he’s alive. You need to let him go so we can get him out of here and get someone to look at him,” Xander says.

“Sir,” another voice comes. “We need to go.” It’s one of Xander’s guys. A lithe man with muscles and a serpent tattoo on his face. Iskren, I think.

I’m forced back into my body and my senses heighten. The room smells stale, the odour of cigarettes and an old carpet. We’re in Greenwood, in an old derelict building that houses drug dealers and sex workers.

A few steps away, Rachel Anders’s body lies still, soaking the carpet with crimson blood that oozes out of her head.

My doing. Next to her is a large man, shot in the back of his head by Xander, a knife wound in his side from Alex.

I want to shoot him again for what he’s done, but I can’t focus on that now.

Alex .

Alex is all I care about.

I touch the base of his neck, feel the faint pulse Xander did, and force myself to get it together. He’s alive. He just needs medical attention.

“Call Doctor Crawley,” I hear Xander say. “Tell him to meet us in Queen’s Peak.”

“Yes, Sir,” Iskren murmurs.

My eyes fall on Rachel Anders again. I lay Alex down gently and stand up straight.

A few other men I didn’t realise were in the room either take a few steps away from me or avert their eyes.

I reach for my gun, still warm from the single shot.

Rachel Anders stares up at me, brown eyes wide, lips parted.

I point the gun right between her eyes and pull the trigger without hesitation.

The sound of the shot rips through the air.

Blood and brain matter splatters in all directions, some of it landing on my face, warm and coppery.

I want to bathe in it. I want to bring her back to life and take my time with her.

“Look through everything,” I tell the men, tasting the coppery liquid on my tongue. “I want to know who she was working with.”

A few ‘yes sirs’ ring through the air but I’m not listening. I’m back by Alex’s side, picking him up and holding him close in my arms.

He’s alive.

That’s enough for now.

***

I look down at Alex, my chest tightening at the sight of him. His split lip, the purple bruise darkening on his cheek and neck, and the rough cuts marring his wrists are stark reminders of everything he went through.

The nurse did her best to clean him up, but her efforts only make the injuries more glaring. He was gone for barely a day and a half, and they still managed to leave him like this. That anger and raw pain flares inside me again.

I want to string Rachel Anders up and play target practice with her body, but she’s long gone, so I’ll revel in the fantasy instead.

I brush a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, letting my fingers and eyes linger for a moment. Even in this state, he manages to look beautiful. He doesn’t stir. His shallow, uneven breaths and the warmth of his skin are the only signs that he’s alive.

He’s alive.

I tell myself those words again and again, some silent prayer as if God still listens to anything I say.

Outside, the air is still. It’s well past midnight, and it’s just us inside the house. The doctors say he’s fine—just exhausted, dehydrated, and coming down from whatever cocktail of drugs Kane and Anders pumped into him.

He’ll be okay.

But I’m not.

I can’t stop the restless energy roiling inside me, the anger clawing at my chest. Xander’s men cleaned up afterward, turning it into a staged gang dispute.

The man she was with, Lesley Cartwright, had a record as long as my arm, including manslaughter.

They’ll chalk it up to him dragging her into something dangerous.

But whoever Anders was working for—the one pulling her and Kane’s strings—is still out there.

They’re still looking for Professor Hawthorne’s research, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

Right now, only Alex matters.

As if he hears me, he stirs. A quiet sound escapes him, his eyelids fluttering before they open fully. Brown eyes lock onto mine, clouded with confusion. “Rowan?” he says softly, his voice rasping like it hasn’t been used in days.

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips, relief flooding through me all at once. “Hi.”

God, how did I ever think I could live without him?

He tries to sit up, his face scrunching in pain. “What happened?”

“Relax,” I say gently, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him back down. “You’re safe. I promise.”

His breaths come in pained gulps as his gaze pins me. “I didn’t break our deal,” he says hurriedly. “I was going to come, but Kane—he drugged me. He was behind the emails. And Anders—”

“I know,” I say, my voice steady. “It’s okay.”

He freezes, staring at me like he didn’t hear me right. “You do?”

I nod. “Rachel Anders is dead. So is the man she was working with. They were taking orders from someone in The Judiciary—someone who wants Hawthorne’s research as well.”

“Kane,” he whispers. “Where is he?”

“Sying,” I answer carefully.

Alex frowns, his brows knitting together. “Is he…?”

“He’s alive,” I admit, although I really wish he wasn’t. I’d rather his brain was splattered on a dirty floor right now.

“How did you get him to tell you where I was?”

I chew the inside of my mouth. I know he’ll be horrified but I confess anyway. “I sent him a video of his family. It was the only way to get him to talk.”

His face falls, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re sharp and cold in a way I’m not used to. “Rowan, tell me you didn’t touch Tanya and the girls.”

“They’re fine,” I assure him quickly. “I didn’t touch them. I just needed leverage, and it worked.”

He exhales shakily, leaning back against the headboard. “What did he say?”

“Anders had something on him,” I explain.

His lips press into a thin line. “What was it?”

I swallow. I hate that I’ll have to burst whatever idea of Isaac Kane Alex has— if he still has any shred of respect for the man.

“He was having an affair,” I say bluntly. “Anders knew. She was going to tell his wife if he didn’t help her, although I think it was more about the promotion he’d get once Anders got a position in The Judiciary.”

His mouth falls open, and he stares at me like he’s searching for the lie in my words. “Oh,” he whispers.

“There’s more,” I say cautiously. His eyes snap back to mine, and I see the heartbreak he’s trying so hard to hide. My hands clench into fists, the urge to kill Kane surging again. “He wanted to make a deal. I kill Anders, and he tells me where you are.”

Alex stills, the pain evident on his face. I hate Isaac ten times more if that’s even possible.

“He’s a piece of shit,” I say, trying to pull him back to me.

His hand hovers over his bruised wrist, his thumb brushing the raw skin absently and when he looks up at me, there’s something haunted in his eyes. “What will you do with him?”

“That’s up to you,” I say honestly. “I’d rather let Xander have his way with him, but it’s your choice.”

Alex’s eyes glisten, and he blinks quickly, forcing back tears. “He has a family. Tanya and the girls—they depend on him. She doesn’t work, and the kids are still in school…”

“I can make sure they’re taken care of,” I say softly, “If that’s what you want.”

He shakes his head, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what I want.”

“He deserves to die for what he did to you, Alex.”

He winces. “If he does, then so do I. I’ve hurt the people I love, too.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s done. “That’s not the same, and you know it,” I say firmly. “You did what you had to. Kane did what he did because he’s a coward. He used Halle’s case against you when he knew how much she means to you and what you’d do to keep her safe. You’re nothing like him.”

A single tear slips down his cheek, and he swipes it away angrily.

“This is so fucked up,” he whispers before meeting my eyes.

They glisten with tears in the golden light.

“When that guy was choking me, I was so scared. Not just of dying, but that you’d think I bailed.

That all of this had been for nothing.” He swallows again, wincing.

“Thank you for finding me…for saving me.”

I pull him into my arms, wishing I could chase away the memory of everything that happened to him.