But she couldn’t focus on her worries just then. She had to get them both out of there.
Using every last piece of herself she could pull together, she stepped clumsily over him and grabbed his feet. She got him clear of the door, and then the world went wavy around her. Wavy and fuzzy. And then there was nothing at all.
CHAPTER 30
Maverick came awake on a gasp that hurt like hell. His throat felt like it’d been scoured with coarse sandpaper, and his body felt like someone had dropped a house on it. He’d been in and out of it a hundred times, but never been able to keep his hold on reality.
The fire. Something . . . hit me. Alexa!
On a moan, he sat up, his hands clumsily pulling at tubes and wires.
“Hey, hey, none of that,” a nurse in pink scrubs said, gently stilling his hands. “Just calm down, hon.”
“Alexa,” he rasped, his voice like gravel. “Alexa Harmon.”
“She’s right next to you, Mr. Rylan.” She pushed the curtain back and revealed an unconscious Alexa propped up in a bed identical to his. Only she had a tube in her mouth and her hands were fully bandaged. “You two have got a lot of, uh, friends out in the waiting room and they pushed hard to get you in the same room. Miss Harmon is gonna be fine but her situation is a bit more serious right at the moment, so I need you to let her rest or I have to move her.” She arched a brow at him.
More serious? The pain in the center of his chest had nothing to do with the smoke he’d inhaled. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked, his heart fucking breaking. The nurse looked at him like she was debating, so Maverick pushed. He glanced to her name tag. “Erica, I’m going to marry that woman. Please, tell me.”
“She had a severe asthma attack exacerbated by the smoke inhalation. Her lungs didn’t sufficiently respond to anti-inflammatories, so we had to intubate her to stem the possibility of respiratory failure. Once her lungs are recovered and able to work on their own again, we’ll be able to remove the tube. Probably in the morning. She also has burns on her hands and forearms.
Christ, from pulling the burning pieces of ceiling off of him, he bet. Sonofabitch. “But . . . but she’s going to be okay?” he asked, needing to hear her say it again.
“She will. You both will. Your burns are minor and your CT scan was clear. You just have a pretty killer bump on your head.”
He put his hand to his hair and flinched. Bump? That thing was a fucking mountain. “I don’t know how that happened.”
She frowned. “When you think you’re ready, there’s a police officer here who’d like to talk to you. He might be able to tell you more. Want me to send him in?”
Maverick nodded, and she turned to go. “Wait. Alexa’s mom. Cynthia Harmon?”
Erica returned to his bedside. “I’m afraid her mother was in severe respiratory distress from prolonged smoke inhalation, and she also had a bump to the head. The doctors are hopeful for a recovery, but we’ll know more in the next twelve to twenty-four hours.”
“Fuck. Okay.” Maverick shook his head, his thoughts a wreck. “Sorry for the language.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry about it, hon. You’ve had a rough night.” She disappeared out the door. Martin came in shortly after.
“Christ, Maverick. You look like hell,” Martin said.
“Fuck you, too,” he said.
“We found you and Alexa lying together on the front porch of her mom’s house. It looked like Alexa pulled you out before passing out herself.”
His gaze cut to her. She’d pulled him out?
He shook his head. “I don’t remember. Something hit me, and then—” He shook his head again. Flashes of disconnected images came together, but he couldn’t piece them together to make any sense.
Martin sighed. “Grant Slater hit you. With a liquor bottle, as best we can tell. The house is a total loss, so it’s going to take us a while to sift through all the evidence. But if I had to guess, I’d say he set the fire.”
Rage was a living beast inside Maverick, stalking around and demanding release. “Goddamn Slater,” he bit out. “I—”
A moan.
His gaze whipped back to Alexa. Her eyes fluttered, her wrapped hands struggling to move.
“I’m here, Al. I’m right here.” He tore the oxygen mask off of his head and slid out of bed. His back and shoulders hurt like a motherfucker, so he grasped the IV pole and used it for support.
Martin reached out a hand. “You sure you should—”
“Try to keep me away from her.” He limped to her bed and gently sat on the edge. “I’m here, Alexa. You’re safe. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” If he’d taken Slater out at the house after he’d attacked her, this never would’ve happened. So much for playing it by the books. And trying to be the good guy.
Her eyes swam, then finally fixed on him. He could tell the moment her mind snapped to some semblance of awareness. She moaned again as panic cut lines into her face.
“Stay calm, Al. You’re pretty banged up. You burned your hands helping me and your lungs need some time to recover from the severe asthma attack and smoke inhalation. The nurse said the tube can probably come out in the morning.” His thoughts raced to what else she needed to know. “Your mom’s here, too. She also had pretty bad smoke inhalation. That’s all I know so far.”
She pointed to his head, her expression full of questions.
“My head?” he asked. She nodded. “I’m good.”
She frowned.
“Alexa,” Martin said, “do you know how Maverick got hit on the head?”
Her face went white and she moaned, frustration clear in her helpless gestures.
Martin held up a hand. “How about this? I say something, and you just shake your head yes or no?” She nodded.
“Did you see Grant at the house?” She nodded. Surprise flooded through Maverick. Grant had been there the whole time? He looked to Alexa, confusion swamping him.
“Did you talk to him?” Another yes.
“Did he admit anything to you?” Another yes.
“Did he admit or did you see him hit Maverick?” She shrugged, but her expression said she had more to say on the topic. But Maverick knew—the fucker had totally jacked him up. Not only had Maverick not seen him, but he had no memory after the hit.
“Was he inside the house when you came out?” Martin asked.
She nodded. Did that mean . . .
“Did you find a body?” Maverick asked.
Martin nodded. “No positive ID yet. But one deceased in the house.”
Slater was dead? Mav’s mind reeled, shock and relief warring through him.
Erica pushed back into the room. “Mr. Rylan, what the heck do you think you’re doing? Get back in bed and leave Miss Harmon alone.”
“Ma’am—”
“That’s an order. The rest of this can wait until the woman can fully breathe on her own.” She nailed both of the men with a no-nonsense stare.
Maverick pressed a kiss to Alexa’s forehead. “I’ll be right over there, baby.”
Al watched him move away, sadness clear on her face.
“What about this?” Erica said, gesturing at his bed. “Get in, Mr. Rylan.”
“Maverick,” he said, climbing back in but restless as hell over the ten feet separating them.
“Okay, Maverick. I see how it is, so I have an idea you might like.” In that moment, he couldn’t do anything but obey her; he was still too shell-shocked by the news that Slater was actually dead. He laid his ass down on a groan. Erica did some rearranging and pushed their beds closer together, leaving just enough narrow space for someone to walk between. “Better?”
“Yeah,” he said. “As good as can be in the midst of all this.”
“Sometimes that’s all you have,” Erica said, turning on Martin. “Officer, you’re going to have to come back.”
He nodded. “I’ll let everyone know you’re both awake. They’re all here.”
“Thanks,” Maverick said, the co
mfort of having his brothers, his family, around easing some of the turmoil from the night.
“Now both of you get some rest,” the nurse said, dimming the light.
He turned to Alexa, whose big, wide eyes were on him. “Christ, I love you, Alexa.” She laid her bundled hands on her heart and looked at him, so much love shining from her eyes. Just then, that was all he needed. Because he had more to say. So much more. But he’d wait til she could speak, too.
Sleep came to him fitfully. His body ached, his worries focused on Alexa, and his mind kept wandering to any one of a million questions. Had Grant been at the house when Cynthia arrived? Or had he surprised her by arriving while she was packing her things? And why had Grant gone to the house in the first place? What had been the point? Maverick just didn’t know. And maybe now they’d never find out.
When he finally did fall, he had dreams over and over again about getting hit in the head just as he’d been on the cusp of running back into the fire to bring Alexa out. He went down hard and stupid just inside the doorway every time, then the dream ended abruptly, making Mav want to scream his frustration.
Was that all that had happened? Was there more? Maybe he’d never know.
And with that, his brain finally shut down. Because his woman was alive and safe. And the man who wanted to take her away from him was gone for good. Just then, that was all Maverick could possibly ask for.
ALEXA DIDN’T THINK anything could surpass the relief of learning from Officer Martin that Grant had died, but then morning had come and they’d removed her breathing tube. And the sheer relief of being able to breathe gave that news a good run for its money.
Her lack of grief or even remorse over Grant almost made her wonder if there was something wrong with her, but how could you grieve the loss of someone who only wanted to hurt you, to own you?
She couldn’t. That was for sure. Not when her mother still lay unconscious, her prognosis unclear. Alexa felt like she stood at the edge of a tall cliff, her heart and soul set to shatter when it hit bottom, and she wouldn’t know whether she’d get to stand or fall until her mother’s situation was clearer. After everything she’d tried to do, she hadn’t been able to take care of her mother in the end.
How would she ever forgive herself for that?
After getting some scans done, Alexa got wheeled in her bed back to their room, but voices from inside had her asking the orderly to wait a moment.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Mom.” Maverick, the sound of his strained, smoked-scoured voice breaking Alexa’s heart.
“Oh, son. You have nothing to apologize to me for,” Bunny said, her voice strained, too.
“I do. I didn’t protect you from my father. And now I’ve let Alexa get hurt. It’s like I can’t stop fucking failing the people I care about.”
Alexa wanted nothing more than to go inside and set Maverick straight, but she didn’t want to intrude on their conversation.
“You listen to me, Maverick Rylan,” Bunny said, her words strong and full of certainty. “I hid your father’s abuse from you. On purpose. So you wouldn’t know. But the only one of the three of us to blame was your father. You couldn’t have changed a thing until I was ready to get out. Tell me you hear me. Tell me you believe it.”
A long pause.
“Tell me, hon.”
“Fuck,” Maverick said. “Okay.” The conversation seemed to cut off, or the words they spoke were too quiet to share.
Alexa finally nodded to the orderly, who nodded in return and wheeled her into the room.
She found Dare in a chair beside Maverick’s bed and Bunny standing on the other side holding Mav’s hand. And, oh, seeing Maverick’s incredible dark blue eyes, awake and aware and alive, brought a whole new wave of relief. When she’d dragged his dead weight out the door last night, she’d been afraid he might never look at her again.
“There she is,” Bunny said, a big smile on her face.
“Hi,” Alexa said, unable to take her gaze off Mav. But having his mother and cousin there was special, too. She never had a big family she could rely on before—and the Ravens were certainly that. Loyal, dependable, protective. Way more than just a club.
Now if her mother would wake up, everything would be as close to perfect as she could ever hope for.
“How are you?” she asked Maverick. She could see him sitting in front of her, of course—living and breathing. But she’d never forget the terror of learning that Grant had hurt Maverick, that he’d wanted to see him die. She’d never be able to unsee the picture of the blood streaking Mav’s hair.
“Just some achiness. How about you?” Maverick asked, his eyes locked on her.
Her chest felt like an elephant had sat on it, and maybe was still there. “Same,” she said, her voice sounding sultry and low, the result of all the smoke and the tube.
“You’re both goddamned liars but I’m so fucking happy you’re okay that I don’t even care,” Dare said. “What the hell happened?”
She and Mav exchanged a look, and then he launched into it.
When he stopped, she jumped in with the things he didn’t know. “After you took my mom out, Grant came in and just started ranting. He admitted to intending to hurt my mom and us, too, once we showed up,” she said, looking at Maverick, the memory of the terror and despair she’d felt upon realizing he must’ve been hurt boomeranging through her.
Pain flared in her chest. If he hadn’t survived, she wasn’t sure she could’ve, either. Not when she’d just found her way back to him after so long, and not when she loved him so damn much.
“I was so beside myself that he’d hurt you. I grabbed a metal lamp and hit him in the knee so hard it crunched and he fell.” She shuddered, a confession welling up inside her, then spilling free. “I . . . I probably could’ve helped him, but I didn’t. I left him.”
“Good,” Bunny said, that one word so filled with anger that it vibrated through the room.
“I agree,” Dare said.
Alexa released a shaky breath and looked at Maverick, and the emotion shining from his eyes reached inside her chest and soothed so much of her pain.
“Shit, I don’t remember anything after taking your mom out. But you were so strong, Alexa. You saved us,” Maverick said.
Dare braced his elbows on his knees, his gaze going serious. “I hope you don’t feel a second of guilt, Alexa. He wasn’t behaving rationally. He would’ve kept coming at you, and he made it into a situation where it was you or him. And the P.I. learned something that I think maybe confirms that.” His dark gaze moved to Maverick, then back to her again. “Did you know that Slater spent time in a psychiatric hospital when he was nineteen?”
Alexa gasped. “What? No.” She shook her head, barely able to process the information.
Dare nodded. “All the P.I. discovered so far was that it was an involuntary admission. Lasted ten weeks. When Slater got out, he moved away from his hometown and, as best as can be told, never returned.”
Shell-shocked, she glanced at Maverick. “That must be why he had no relationship with his parents. Wouldn’t talk about it, either.” A barrage of questions flooded through her that all boiled down to one—what had Grant been hiding from her? Because Dare was right, Grant had changed these past few weeks from a man always in tight, strict control to one completely out of it. Either way, it really was like she’d been with a stranger all those years. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“If the P.I. finds out more, I’m sure he’ll tell us,” Maverick said. “But the most important thing is that it’s finally over.” He shifted in his bed. “And damnit I want out of this bed.”
Dare let loose a small laugh. “Welcome to my world.”
Maverick scowled at his cousin, making Dare laugh harder.
“Why don’t we let you all rest?” Bunny said, coming to Maverick’s bedside. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, and it was the sweetest thing. “You’re my favorite son. I don’t know what I would’ve done . . .
Well, I’m not even going to entertain that now.”
Mav swallowed hard, Bunny’s words clearly getting to him. “I’m your only son, Bunny.”
She managed a small smile and winked. “That’s why you’re my fave.” Next, she came around to Alexa’s bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I wish I would’ve had half your strength at your age. You hang in there and take care of each other.”
“I will, Bunny.” Now she was the one Bunny was getting choked up. “Thank you.”
Dare said his good-byes next. Clasping Mav’s hand, he said, “This was some fucking extreme lengths to go to in order to get out of your turn in the dunking booth.”
Maverick barked out a laugh, and the sound was so amazing to her. Proof of life. Proof of truly living. “Silver linings, man. You gotta embrace ’em where you find ’em.”
“Truer words,” Dare said, then he came around to Alexa, and leaned down over her so he could look her in the eyes. “You did good, kid.”
She blinked back tears and gave a quick nod. And then they were gone, and she and Maverick were finally alone.
“I’VE HAD ENOUGH of being apart from you,” Maverick said, climbing out of bed and shuffling over to her, holding on to his IV stand. A pale blue hospital gown was all he wore, but he didn’t care about any of it. About anything other than touching Alexa again.
“Are you naked under there?” Her expression was almost playful, and it made him want to distract her, to help her find a moment of light in all this dark.
He chuffed out a laugh. “You really feeling up to sex?”
Alexa grinned. “No, damnit. But I thought your ass might look cute sticking out.”
He shook his head, and then he turned around for her and gave her his bare ass. “Happy?”
“Wow. That is . . . yeah. I’m super happy.”
He chuckled and turned back to her.
“I feel so much better now,” she said. “I might need to see that every once in a while. You know, for purely medicinal purposes.”
“You’re so full of shit,” he said, but he enjoyed her teasing, enjoyed seeing her come back to life, a little at a time. He put down the side railing to her bed. “Let me in.” It was a little awkward with her bandaged hands, but she managed to scoot aside enough to make space for him. His back was one giant bruise from where the ceiling had collapsed on him, so he settled on his side facing her. Fuck, that felt good. Satisfying. Exactly where he belonged. “That’s better.”