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My eyes lock on Bexley’s, hardly able to believe my ears. “Not helping? He killed them, Bexley. He planted an explosive in my house and blew them up without a second thought. So don’t sit there and tell me that I’m not helping.” My chest heaves with the weight of my words. “He’s not going to stop. Cade is out for blood, and he isn’t going to stop until—"
The door cracks open, and Sasha peeks her head inside. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Channing says, gently shoving his chair back. She comes inside and sits on his lap, giving me a timid smile.
“The two of you are—”
“With Cade gone, we’re the least of Q’s concern. Besides,” Channing says, “I told them I’m done.”
“Done?”
“Yeah, I didn’t sign on for this, Mia. And when I found you…” He swallowed roughly. “He almost killed you.”
I almost wish he had.
I don’t realize I say the words out loud until it’s too late.
Bexley is as white as a sheet, staring at me like he doesn’t recognize me. “You don’t mean that,” he whispers.
“Don’t I?”
“Maybe we should go,” Sasha says, but I shake my head.
“No, stay.”
I’m not sure I want to be alone with Bexley right now. From his grim expression, he knows it too.
“They knew,” I say with little emotion. “Quinctus knew all along what Cade was capable of—"
“Mia, we don’t know that.” I hate that Bexley is even suggesting it, as if he’s one of them now. Loyal to Quinctus and all they stand for.
“Yes, we do. We can’t trust them.” They’ve made that perfectly clear.
“Phillip said—"
“Phillip is the reason I’m laying here. What about that don’t you understand?” I glare at him. “My father killed Gregory Kingsley… he killed all those men… for Quinctus. And then when my dad tried to argue about me being Cade’s prosapia, Phillip forced him to be quiet about it, becauseeverything is a game to them, Bexley. It’s all one giant game.”
And I’ve been on the losing side since the start.
Pain splinters through my head, and I cry out.
“Mia?” Bexley jumps up just as a nurse rushes into the room.
“You feeling okay, sweetheart?” she asks, moving around Bexley to get to the machine. “Your blood pressure is elevated. You need to rest, Mia. Your body has been through a great deal of trauma. She can’t be getting worked up about anything.” The nurse levels my friends with a stern look.
“I’m okay,” I say.
“Well, your blood pressure says different.” She scribbles on my chart and heads for the door. “Let her rest, or I’ll have you all removed.”
Bexley growls at that, and I shoot him an irritated look.
My feelings for him are conflicted. I love him—I love him so much. That hasn’t changed. But everything is different now. The cracks in my heart have severed something between us.
“I’m sorry,” he concedes. “When do you think Mia will be able to go home?”
The word makes my breath hitch. I don’t have a home. Not anymore.
“The doctor wants to observe her for a couple more days, but then there’s no reason why she can’t go home. But she’ll need plenty of rest.”
