CHAPTER 1
HARLOW
THE FOG CLOUDING my brain refuses to clear as the sounds of whispered arguing rouse me from slumber. I attempt to move, but my heavy body won’t cooperate. It’s as if I’m superglued to the warm, soft surface I’m lying on.
“She needs to wake up in her own time.”
The deep voice is familiar. Caz. My lovable, giant teddy bear of a man.
“She’d want to be there,” Saint retorts in his usual belligerent manner, but I hear the strain in his voice.
“Saint is right. She’ll never forgive us if we take this choice away from her,” Theo agrees, always the voice of calm logic.
“What choice?” I croak, blinking my eyes open and wincing as bright light stabs my retinas. My eyes shutter again, affronted by the blinding light.
“Princess.” Shoes squelch on the floor as Saint approaches. His warm hand lands on top of mine, and I force my eyelids to open again. “There’s my girl.” Troubled blue eyes lock on mine, and there’s so much emotion written on his handsome face as he pins me with an intense stare.
The cuts and grazes on his cheeks and forehead are new, as is the thicker layer of stubble on his jawline, confirming I must’ve been out of it for some time. I quickly take in my surroundings, not surprised to discover I’m in a hospital room. “How long have I been unconscious?” I ask, recalling the car bomb that put me here.
“It’s Sunday,” Theo supplies, coming up on the other side of my bed.
What the hell? “I’ve been out of it for three days?” I cringe at the hoarse tone of my voice.
“You’ve woken up briefly a few times,” Saint confirms, rubbing soothing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. “But you were in pain, so the staff has been feeding you a steady line of morphine.”
“Do you want some ice chips?” Theo inquires, and I twist my head around to face him. His sexy dirty-blond hair is pulled up into a tight bun on the top of his head, showcasing his stunning face. With his high cheekbones, expressive hazel eyes, and full lips, he could easily grace the catwalk for a living, but that would be a waste of his sharp brain and shrewd intellect.
My man is the full package, and I’m a lucky bitch.
Little scrapes and cuts line his face too, and he also looks like he hasn’t shaved in days.
I move to turn on my side, and a strangled groan slips from my mouth as pain batters my body from all angles. “Yes,” I rasp, ignoring how much I’m hurting when I notice how parched my throat is. My dry, chapped lips crave something cold and soothing, and I attempt to sit up, hissing as a throbbing ache spreads across my upper body.
“Careful, babe.” Caz appears from behind Saint, pressing the button on the bed to elevate it so I’m in more of an upright position. Caz gently eases me forward as Theo stuffs a couple more pillows behind me, propping me up more comfortably.
“How bad does it hurt?” Saint inquires, threading his fingers in mine.
“Like a bitch,” I truthfully admit, opening my lips as Theo pops some ice chips in my mouth.
Caz perches on the side of my bed, brushing hair back off my brow as Theo administers ice chips in short, measured stints and Saint holds my hand.
“Where’s Galen?” I ask, shaking my head when Theo brings the plastic cup to my mouth again.
Panic churns in my gut as the events that landed me in here swarm to the forefront of my mind in vivid Technicolor. Galen was with me when the bomb went off, and I know he tried to shield me from the worst of it, which does nothing to reassure me now. My gaze darts wildly around the private hospital room, my worried eyes flitting between the guys as I seek him out.
“Relax, Lo. Galen is fine,” Saint says. “He’s sleeping in the room next door.”
“Thank fuck.” My head drops back on the pillows as air whooshes out of my mouth in grateful relief. “I want to see him,” I bark, scowling at Saint. “And why are you all in here? Galen shouldn’t be left alone.”
A familiar smirk pulls up the corners of Saint’s mouth.
“There’s our ballbuster.” Caz grins, his tone laced with amusement. He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose in an unbelievably sweet gesture. “Missed you, babe.”
“Stop deflecting. Take me to Galen.”
“Alisha is with him,” Saint says. “And we’ve been taking it in turns, ensuring neither of you are alone.”
“Saintly got thrown out the first day when they refused to put you both in the same room,” Theo explains, gently cupping one side of my face.
“Still causing trouble,” I murmur, fighting a smile as I squeeze Saint’s hand.
The door opens unexpectedly, and a pretty woman in blue scrubs steps into the room. “It’s good to see you awake, Harlow,” she says, striding to my bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone has just gone to town on my body with a bat.”
She pins Saint and Caz with an ice-cold look, and they glare at her. “I need to get close to Ms. Westbrook to check her vitals, so scoot.”
A giggle bursts from my mouth as my two alpha-holes reluctantly step aside, still glaring at the nurse, and I wonder what happened that they’re so salty.
“Are they always this territorial?” She probes my head with gentle fingers.
“They’re usually much worse, so count your blessings,” I joke.
She shines a light in my eyes, takes my blood pressure, checks my chart, and tops up the saline drip hooked up to the back of my hand. “Everything looks good, Harlow.” Her warm smile is genuine. “We’re scaling back your pain meds, but if it hurts too much and you need more, just press the button.”
“I’m good,” I lie, because I need to get the fuck out of here. “The pain is manageable.”
“You’re lucky your injuries weren’t more extensive.”
“So, I can leave?”
“That’s up to the doctor. You’ve suffered a mild concussion and bruised a few ribs, so he may want to keep you under observation for another twenty-four hours.”
Hell to the no. I don’t give a fuck what the doctor says—I’m leaving today.
“Can’t you just give me pain meds and let me recuperate at home? I’d rather be in my own bed.” I hate hospitals with a burning passion. It reminds me of the time I spent in the hospital after my kidnapping.
“You can discuss it with the doctor. He’s with Mr. Lennox, so he’ll be right with you.”
“How is he?” I blurt, reaching out and grabbing her arm as she prepares to walk off.
She pats my hand before replacing it on the bed. “I can’t discuss another patient with you even if he is your boyfriend. While Galen’s injuries were a little more serious, he is on the road to recovery. You were both very lucky you got far enough away to avoid the full impact of the blast.” She pats my hand again. “I hope the police find the person responsible.”
Saint growls. Caz’s eyes narrow. Theo sighs, plopping down into the chair and pulling it up closer to the bed.
The nurse leaves, and my gaze bounces between the guys. “What have you found out? Was it Taylor?” I remember the flash of long blonde hair just before Galen shoved me away from the car, which makes Taylor Tamlin—Parker’s half-sister and a girl who has connections to The Bulls and The Arrows—the most likely suspect.