LOREN
Light broke through the curtains, and I sat up with a gasp. I didn’t remember how I’d gotten here, or how long it had been. Visions of tears and screams played in my mind, but I couldn’t quite piece them together, the images too fragmented. Looking down, I realized someone had changed me, and my hands were clean, no longer covered in Wells’ blood, and a sigh of relief left me. Picking up the shirt, I inhaled, the material smelled faintly of Nicco.
Glancing around, I had no idea where I was. It wasn’t familiar, and everything in the room was generic, like a hotel room. But why would I be in a hotel? My body was stiff, and my hair felt heavy, like I hadn’t washed it in a few days. A door opened on the far wall, and I tensed, preparing myself for intruders.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
At his voice, I was instantly off the bed as I ran to him, enclosing my arms around him, clinging to his frame. Monroe held me back just as tightly, his body shaking slightly. I felt tears pricking at my eyes, but I didn’t want to break down again. Pulling back, I took in his face. He looked tired, resigned, and I wondered if he’d gotten any sleep. But I couldn’t find anything else out from his expression and it scared me.
“Come, see if you can eat something. You’ve been out for a few days.”
“Have you?” I asked, not able to say anything else, but needing to know before I made a move.
Monroe squeezed my hand, not answering. Apprehension filled me as I followed him out of the room. We walked out into a common area that was more active than mine had been. I spotted Atticus and Sax talking to some guards in a corner, and Nicco looked to be reviewing some plans at a table with men I’d never seen before.
A TV played cartoons further back, and I spotted Levi, Jude, and Imogen gathered on the couch off to the side, the dogs at their feet. I relaxed more, realizing they were all safe. Just how much had I missed? Had I dreamed it all?
“What’s going on?” I asked, my words coming out scratchy. Monroe gave me a sad look, pulling me over to the kitchen area. Beau noticed me and filled a mug full of coffee, handing it to me when I neared.
“Thank you,” I whispered. He nodded, patting my head as he walked by. Monroe looked at the big man, a strange question on his face before he shook it off.
“Do you want any food?”
I shook my head, but my stomach betrayed me, growling loudly. Everyone around us stopped, turning to look at me. My face heated, not wanting to be the center of attention standing in only Nicco’s shirt.
“Take five,” Atticus barked, and the room cleared out instantly. He walked over, his face stoic, giving no indication of his emotions. No one was, and it made me fear the worst. His eyes took in every inch of me, cataloging my body to make sure I was still in one piece.
“Lore, are you feeling better?” he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin gently.
I shrugged. I wouldn’t feel better until I knew how Wells was. “Wells?”
Atticus sighed before turning and walking off. My stomach dropped. No one would say anything. It could only mean… he really was dead. It hadn’t just been a bad dream.
When I didn’t follow, he stopped, looking over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Are you coming?”
A gasp escaped me, and I sat the mug down before hurrying after him. Taking my hand, he led me to the other side from where I’d been. Knocking on a door, he didn’t wait for an answer before entering. Inside, Wells lay in a bed, machines beeped and whirled, but he was awake, a smirk lifting at the corner of his mouth when he saw me.
I flew to him, stopping halfway as I remembered he’d been shot. “You were shot,” I said like he didn’t know.
“Yes, Kitten. I remember.”
“But you’re here. How?” I tilted my head in confusion, looking over every inch of him. He nodded behind me, and I turned, remembering Atticus.
“You? Again, how?”
Atticus sighed, a smile crossing his lips as he came closer, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m the boss of Chicago’s largest crime family, Bellezza. I can make just about anything happen. I have medical staff on hand around the clock.”
“Right, mafia. Forgive me for not jumping to that answer first,” I sassed, relaxing into his arms, looking back at Wells.
“I’m just… I thought you were dead.”
“He was close,” Atticus grunted. His arms tensed around me, and I knew, though he pretended to not like my guys, they’d grown on him, and if anything, he cared about them out of respect for me. Some days, I almost didn’t recognize him as the same man who’d sat down across from me, giving me the third degree to see if I was qualified to treat his sister.
Wells rolled his eyes, but I didn’t miss how fatigued he was or how pale his skin was. “It was a gunshot wound. I’ve taken worse hits.”
Rolling my eyes this time, I walked forward, grabbing his hand. “If you weren’t lying in this very nice bed, hooked to machines, I might believe you. Actually, no, I’d slap you for saying something dumb. You don’t get to dismiss this. I… I was so scared.” Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly wiped them.
“I said the same thing,” Monroe uttered from the door. “When I got Sax’s message, I thought I’d lost you both. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. That’s… that’s not something I can pretend didn’t happen for the sake of your masculine pride. So, don’t ask me to. The last two days have been Hell.”