The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,17

with different responses. Yes, he hurt me, but I’m okay. I have no idea how what Wallace and I experienced will affect me tomorrow or the next day, but in this moment, in Maxim’s arms, I know how I feel right now. “I’m okay.”

His sharp look narrows on my face. “Nix—”

“I’m fine. Doc, I’m fine. I promise.”

He nods, pushing my tangle of unwashed messy hair back. I’m sure I look bad, my cheek swollen from the blow of Abe’s gun, my face smeared with God knows what. I haven’t been able to brush my teeth in days. I should feel self-conscious with him watching me so closely. His stare consumes every part of me and I feel eaten alive in the best way. I don’t care about my appearance when he looks at me like that, like he sees me.

“I love you, Nix.” He says it so softly, Wallace and the few members of the rescue team standing nearby couldn’t have heard him, but to me, it sounds like he’s shouted it to the stars. I’m overcome with every possibility for happiness I never thought I’d find, or even care about, right here in front of me. He’s gloriously masculine and perfectly mine.

I say the only thing I can with so much emotion burning and clogging my throat.

“Same, Doc,” I whisper, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes that have nothing to do with what I just went through, and everything to do with what’s ahead of me. Of us. “Same.”

9

Lennix

“More tea, Lenn?”

My stepmother Bethany’s solicitousness is so sweet, but I’m tired of being fussed over. It’s surreal to be safely ensconced in the downy luxury of my bed, the lights and sounds of D.C. just beyond my window. After a few days in a cave, half of it spent with a bag over my head, even the dim light of my bedroom lamp seems like too much. It feels like the walls are squeezing me, like that inordinately affectionate distant relative who gives you socks each Christmas and hugs so long and too tight. It should feel so good, but . . . it’s too much.

Kimba, my father, Wallace, Bethany, and the doctor Maxim brought in stand around my bed, all eyes on me. I touch my throat self-consciously. I caught a glimpse of myself earlier in my bathroom mirror and saw for the first time how bad the bruises look. How bad I look. What a difference a few days in captivity makes.

“Does your throat hurt?” Wallace asks, his frown anxious.

“Just a little.” I force a weak smile to reassure him, to reassure them all. “I’m fine, but what about you? You were there, too, Wall.”

“He didn’t hang me over the side of a mountain by my throat,” Wallace says.

“No, he didn’t,” Maxim says from his chair in the corner. He’s barely spoken since we got back. He’s been watching me the whole time, and my father keeps flicking curious glances his way.

“You need rest more than anything,” the doctor says. “That sedative should be kicking in soon.”

Maybe sleep will make them go away, leave me alone for a while. I droop my eyes deliberately, and yawn on cue.

“We should let her get some rest,” Kimba says. “We’re all up in your space.”

“It’s okay.” I smile at her, concerned by her concern. She never looks worried and I’ve never seen her like this. “I’m okay, Kimba.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but nods. “Viv’s coming from New York. Says she needs to see you both for herself.”

Wallace and I smile at each other, yet another bond formed through the ordeal we just survived.

“We have a hotel,” Bethany says, “but maybe we should stay here. We can’t leave you alone.”

“She won’t be,” Maxim says from the corner.

Everyone turns to look at him. Bethany clears her throat, shooting a questioning look at my dad, like he may be able to offer some insight into the big man periodically growling from the corner.

“You need rest, young lady,” the doctor says. “We’ll clear out.” He glances at Maxim. “Since it sounds like you’ll be here, Mr. Cade—”

“I will be.” Maxim stands and approaches the bed, giving the doctor his full attention.

“Good. You have my number. Call if she needs anything.” The doctor walks out, and Maxim follows him, stopping at the door as if waiting for everyone else to come.

“Oh,” Bethany says, gathering the lozenges and lotion and other items I’m not sure how she planned to use. There’s even a ball of