Something in his voice had me wanting to do his bidding. I didn’t know why. I didn’t care, either. I cared about finding Rory.
I forced my one eye open and to my surprise, I was able to open the other as well, though not nearly as far.
“Rory, hang on, Uncle Micah is just waking up. You know how foggy your mind feels when you just wake up?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” my niece said. “He’s got dream webs.”
I found myself smiling at the familiar words. My little princess-wannabe hadn’t liked the idea of cobwebs in her mind when I’d tried to explain why she always felt so fuzzy in the morning when she was waking up, so she’d come up with her own term. The mere fact that she was talking about dream webs had me pulling in a breath of relief.
“Dream webs, that’s right,” the man said. I tried to focus on him. I managed to take in the dark hair that seemed to be pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, firm lips, and a hard jawline as my eyes swept his face.
Oh God, I knew that face.
That beautiful, expressive face that could also be as cold as ice.
Like when he’d put my brother down fifteen years earlier.
And like when he’d done the same to Ricky minutes or hours or days earlier—however long it had been.
“Your highness, can you hold on just a minute while I get your uncle more comfortable?” the man asked.
“Yes, Sir Con. Christopher, Uncle Micah’s awake!” I heard Rory yell and then there was silence. I finally realized Rory wasn’t anywhere in the room… she was on the phone.
The phone in the man’s hand.
I looked around the room that had suddenly gone very quiet. There were several people dressed in medical garb watching me with concern. My eyes connected with a woman in a long white coat. She studied me for a moment and then said, “Okay, everybody, let’s give Mr. Fox a few minutes.”
With that, everyone but her and the guy holding the phone quietly left the room. My eyes flitted back to the man.
“Zeus,” I whispered as the pieces clicked into place.
The man bent so he was eye level with me. “It’s Con,” he said. “Rory and Christopher are safe, Micah. They’re with my brother, King, at my place. After you were attacked, Christopher and Rory ran to a playground a few blocks from your house.”
I nodded because I knew which one he was talking about. I hardly noticed as the woman began reattaching wires to my body and fixing the covers I’d cast aside in my hurry to escape.
“You were hurt pretty bad, do you remember?”
I didn’t but one glance at my splinted arm and the bruises covering what little skin I could see and I knew Ricky hadn’t pulled his punches this time.
“You stopped it,” I muttered. I knew I needed to be grateful, but my brain was too hung up on the fact that I hated this man. Zeus or Con or whatever the fuck he wanted to call himself… I hated him.
“My brother went after Christopher and Rory. He found them and used your code word to convince them that they were safe with him. They are, Micah. Just like you’re safe with me.”
I wanted to laugh at that. There were so many reasons I wasn’t safe, and he was one of them. But I held my tongue. “Can I talk to Rory again?” I asked.
Con—and yeah, I couldn’t help but think of him that way because it fit him so much better than his stage name did—took his phone off mute and handed it to me.
“Rory?”
“I’m here, Uncle Micah,” she said excitedly. “Guess what?”
“What?” I asked with a smile.
“Uncle King has a dragon!”
I froze at her reference to Con’s brother as her uncle. Jesus, how long had I been out?
Con reached out to mute the phone. His thick finger did something weird to my insides. “He has a bearded dragon,” he said to me before unmuting the phone.
“Wow, that’s really cool,” I responded as my eyes shifted to Con. He seemed nervous. It was a far cry from all the times I’d seen him pre- and post-fight. He’d always seemed so untouchable, so completely unflappable. The man standing next to me looked… hell, he just looked like a normal guy.
A gorgeous, well-dressed guy, but just a guy.
It wasn’t until his brown eyes met mine that I felt that weird sensation go through me again. Then I made the mistake of looking down and seeing the knuckles of his right hand. They were black and blue and covered in cuts.
Much like they’d been after he’d beaten Brady.
I felt my throat close up. “Rory, honey,” I interrupted as she continued to babble on about how her new “uncle” had promised to introduce her to his dragon someday. “Can I talk to Christopher?”