“If there is anything left of them after this,” Howie adds. “It will be a drastically altered organization.”
“Is Lincoln all right?” I ask, because I’ve been worrying about him too.
Diesel’s face pales. “He’s in surgery in a Greek hospital. Randall’s men left him for dead when they grabbed Giana and brought her back to the US.”
“I’m so sorry.” I grab his hands. “I’ll organize a private jet to take you there. I know the company Dad always used.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Theo says, his fingers already flying across the keyboard.
Diesel gulps. “That would be appreciated. Thanks, Lo.”
A nurse pokes her head through the door, smiling at me. “Mr. Westbrook is in his room now, and he’s asking for you.”
My lips curve in amusement at her faux pas, but I don’t correct her. “Thank you.” I stand. “We’ll be right there.” I lean down, kissing Diesel on the cheek. “Keep me updated on Lincoln, and please send him my regards. I hate that he got caught up in this. If there is anything else I can do, just ask.”
Diesel stands, kissing my cheek. “Stay safe.”
“We’re going to head out.” Bry rises with his brother. “I doubt his lordship wants to see us.”
If it was just Bry, I’d insist he stays, but I’m guessing Bry is leaving because Howie is here. Bry knows, as well as I do, that Saint would not want to see his older uncle. “I’ll text you updates,” I promise, waving them off.
We leave the waiting room together, the four of us going in one direction and the three of them in another.
I open the door to Saint’s private room with my heart thumping loudly in my chest. I know he’s okay, that he’ll make a full recovery, but I’m still anxious as I slip into his room. Lighting is dim, and the blinds are closed. The steady beep, beep of a machine and Saint’s heavy breathing are the only sounds in the room. We tiptoe across the tile floor, careful not to wake our Sleeping Beauty. Saintly may have been asking for us, but he’s sound asleep now, so we take seats around his bed, waiting for him to come around.
Fingers curl around my hand, and I jolt awake, springing up, my gaze darting around the strange room until I get my bearings. Caz is snoring in the chair beside me. Theo is asleep, draped over his tablet at the end of the bed, and Galen’s chair is empty. I’m guessing he’s with Alisha. My gaze drifts to the man in the bed, the guy threading his fingers in mine, and my pulse races when I lock eyes on Saint’s tired, bright blue ones. “You’re awake,” I blurt, stating the obvious.
“It would appear so.” His voice is hoarse, and I grab the cup of ice chips by his bed, tipping a few into his mouth.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I’m ready to get out of here.”
I roll my eyes. “I already know you’re going to be the grumpiest patient ever,” I tease.
“Bite me.” He grins, waggling his brows.
I lean in close, lining my mouth up with his. “I’ll make you a deal,” I whisper over his lips. “Stay here until the doctor discharges you, and I’ll blow you the second we get home.”
His fingers wind through my hair, and he pulls my mouth down to his, kissing me possessively. “How about I’ll discharge myself now, and you can blow me the second we get home?”
I roll my eyes again. “You’re incorrigible.”
“But you love me.” His eyes shine with the truth.
“I do.” My smile fades. “You scared me. There was so much blood.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, my queen.” He brushes hair off my face. “We’re going to grow old and gray together.”
“I love the sound of that.” Happy tears well in my eyes.
“Hey, man,” Caz leans forward, squinting to clear his sleepy gaze. “Glad you’re awake.” A frown mars his brow. “Why does it say Mr. Westbrook on the chart by your bed?”
“’Cause that’s my name,” Saint coolly replies.
My eyes pop wide, and my jaw slackens as I stare at the chart. I hadn’t noticed it before now. “You’re going to do it? You’re seriously taking my name?”
His eyes probe mine. “Is that okay?”
“Yes! Of course,” I splutter, as tears stab my eyes again. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I’m done being a Lennox.”
I’m not in the least bit surprised. “You don’t want to take your mom’s surname?” I inquire, because that might seem more logical. Plus, I’ve no issue taking that name. It was Lennox I had the issue with because I want no ties to that bastard rotting in hell. But Mrs. Harlow Young has a nice ring to it.
“No.” Saint goes quiet. “I don’t want to share a name with another man who has let me down.”
I know he’s not referring to Bry. I nod, cupping his face, my eyes wet with tears of the emotional kind. “Then Mr. Westbrook it is.”
EPILOGUE
10 Months Later
THEO UNLOCKS THE front door to our two-story beachfront property, stepping aside to let me walk in first. I drop my keys on the hall table, kicking off my sneakers, as Theo and Galen follow me into our new house. “What time did Caz and Saint say they’d be home?” I ask, strolling into the large open-plan kitchen and dining room, heading toward the French doors at the rear.
“They’re planning to leave the garage early. Caz said he’ll grill steaks.” Galen snakes his arms around me from behind. “Where do you think you’re going?” Brushing my hair to one side, he nips at my neck with his teeth.
“It’s still warm outside. I thought I’d study by the pool until my other two husbands get home from work.”
It’s only been one month since Theo and I started at Brown, but I’m already drowning in assignments, and I intend to stay on top of my studies.
“Boring,” Galen singsongs in my ear, his hands trailing lower on my body, igniting a furnace inside me.
“Don’t tell me you’re caught up on your assignments already, because I’ll never believe that,” I murmur, fighting a moan.
Galen applied to Brown too, but he wasn’t accepted, so he’s studying business at Providence College. Most days, he drives the forty-minute journey with Theo and me although we brought all our cars with us to Rhode Island, even my dad’s Gran Turismo.
“Nope, but I’ve one word for you.” His fingers slide beneath the waistband of my jean shorts. “Priorities.”
I twist around in his embrace, circling my arms around his neck. “I think I like where this is going.”
“Me too,” Theo adds, dumping his book bag on the island along with his tablet. He saunters toward us with a lopsided grin, sliding his body behind me, grinding his hips into my ass.
“Fuck, you two don’t play fair,” I groan, as Galen pops the button on my jeans, dragging my zipper down.
“Don’t pretend you’re complaining,” Galen teases, sliding his hand into my panties and cupping my bare pussy.