by Geneva Lee
Norris helped me up and out, and I looked around to get an idea of where we were. The grounds were oddly familiar, but before I could figure out where I was, I spotted Hammond. He had the gun raised and leveled at us.
“I’ll be going now,” he called. “But I’m sure we’ll see each other again, Your Majesty.”
“You’ll die before that happens,” Norris promised.
“I wonder how she’ll feel—how they’ll all feel—when the truth comes out. I believe you’ll find aid closer to the main house.” He tipped his head, the closest to a sign of deference I was likely to get, and bolted toward a hamlet of trees.
“Are you okay?” I asked Norris, looking for a signs of a wound. That’s when I noticed a dark, wet spot on his shirt.
He shook his head. “He didn’t get me. My wound’s reopened.”
The one he’d gotten on the night they had taken us. But that had been a lifetime ago—or maybe only days. I no longer knew what had happened. My own time was now measured in labor pains.
“We need to move closer to the house,” Norris urged me, concern washing over his face. He was a smart man. He knew we didn’t have long before I’d be past the point of no return and having this baby in some field was not an option.
“What house?” I asked, gripping the arm he offered for support. Grass crinkled beneath my feet, soft and lush. It felt like heaven. I loved everything about this world, especially being back in it.
“Windsmoor,” he said, looking ahead.
That made sense. They’d kept Sarah nearby. Rachel could easily have been switched out as needed for curious doctors. I wondered how much someone like June had known. I wondered how much any of them.
Or cared.
I followed his gaze to where the once grand house sat ablaze on the edge of the grounds. I was glad to watch it burn, the fire taking the lies and deceit with it.
I didn’t want to go near it, however. Some darkness still lingered around it and it felt as though it might swallow me back up. I never wanted to return to that yawning abyss—to the darkness and despair that permeated its walls.
We’d made it a few paces closer when two soldiers came racing toward us. My heart stopped and I nearly crumbled to the ground. We were so close. Norris shoved me behind him. But we were unarmed and up against two men in tactical gear holding pistols.
“She needs medical attention,” he shouted. I knew Norris wouldn’t let them hurt me, but what if they hurt him? We couldn’t have come this far only to fail now.
The next two things happened so quickly that I wasn’t sure any of it was real. Maybe I was still asleep, that bit of apple keeping me in this insane dream.
I felt a gush of warm water stream down my leg and one of the guards dropped his gun. I’d just began to process that my waters had broken when the man whipped off his ventilation mask.
Smith.
And if that was Smith, then…
I collapsed against Norris with relief as the second man holstered his weapon and did the same.
Brex.
My heart plummeted. I was safe, but it wasn’t the man I’d hoped to find behind that mask.
“We’ve got a helicopter.” Brex hitched a thumb over his shoulder.
Norris moved to lift me into his arms, but Smith shook his head.
“We’ve got this. Here.” He bent down and picked up the gun he’d dropped. Handing it to Norris, he said, “We don’t know what’s out here yet. Cover me.”
Norris took the weapon as Smith lifted me into his arms and began jogging toward the helicopter.
I was leaving. I was safe.
“Alexander?” I asked, scared for the first time of what his answer might be.
Smith kept his eyes head. “He’s still inside. He had to be certain you were out.”
Still inside? I recalled the bombs and Hammond’s warnings.
“He needs to get out,” I shrieked, trying to pull away from him. “You have to warn him.”
“He’ll get out,” Smith said firmly, not allowing me to squirm away. “But he will never forgive me if I let you take another step toward that house.”
“But—”
“The baby’s coming, Clara.” That put an end to the debate. Even I couldn’t argue.
And the baby needed to be at a hospital. I didn’t put up a fight as he helped me into the back of the helicopter.
“Do you want to lay down?” he asked. I shook my head. Norris got in beside me and Brex must have reached us because the blades overhead began to turn.
“What about Alexander?” I yelled.
“He’d want you to come first. We’ll come back for them,” Smith promised.
Alexander would come. He would make it out of there. I tried not to think of the smoke or the flames.
He would be find and we would find each other. It was just that…
I’d expected him to be here. To walk in and carry me off like we were in a fairytale. That’s how love stories ended. But even as disappointment cracked through me, I knew that our story wasn’t ending. It never would. I would find him. He would find me. We always found each other.
Someone tried to place an oxygen mask over my face but I pushed it away. I could handle this with or without him. His strength was with me even if he wasn’t. That’s what love meant. Love filled in the parts of you that you never knew were missing. He was here with me now and then…
There he was.
Alexander.
Our eyes met across the space, and then there was no chaos, no yelling, no fear. My heart stopped and restarted in rhythm with his. Maybe it hadn’t been beating this whole time.
He looked worse for the wear as though he hadn’t been sleeping either. Dark stubble shadowed his jawline and his hair, which was usually combed into submission these days, was an unruly black mess. I wanted to tangle my fingers through it and pull him against me.
Yesterday, I’d thought I lost him forever.
This morning, I struggled to remember the taste of his kiss.
An hour ago I wasn’t certain if he would ever hold me again.
But Alexander always found me, even the times I hadn’t wanted him to. I’d clung to his memories while we were apart, building him until he felt almost real. But he’d been nothing but an illusion then. This man? He was flesh and blood and anger and love. He was real, and he was mine.
And seeing him was like coming home.
Chapter 24
ALEXANDER
Clara. She was here. She was real.
I tugged off my tactical gear and tossed it to Georgia as I ran towards the helicopter.
I needed to touch her. I needed to feel her skin against mine. My heart beat frantically against my chest, suddenly awake—suddenly alive. I’d been half a man for the last week and now the rest of me sat crying only a few meters away.
I closed the space between us in a few bounds and then she was there. I cupped her face, drawing her against me, and mashing my lips to her forehead. Her fingers fumbled for my collar, holding me against her. I barely processed the salt on my tongue. I didn’t know if it was her tears or mine I was tasting. Not that there was any difference. We were two halves of the same soul.
I didn’t pay attention as the others yelled instructions to one another. They could handle this and the inevitable fall-out. Clara was real and in my arms and nothing else mattered.
Pulling away slightly, I drank in her face—the freckles, that dusted her nose, her wide, gray eyes, lips I wanted to feel against mine. But before I could make that dream a reality, we lifted off and she gave a startled yelp that turned into a keening moan. Her hands slipped from my collar to clutch her stomach. My eyes swept over hers finally catching what I’d missed: the hospital gown, the sheen of sweat on her brow, and the slight trail of blood dried on her leg.
“Baby’s coming,” she grunted, her eyes full of panic.
I could only imagine the fear she’d experienced in the last few days. Now I could see her fraying at the edges. I had
to be her strength. I had to help her through this.
I nodded, pressing my lips to her neck and murmuring words I wasn’t certain she could hear until she relaxed again in my arms.
Waving for a headset, I took it and spoke directly to Brex, “I assume we’re heading into St. Mary’s.”
“That’s the plan, Poor Boy. I’m about to radio in to have the landing pad cleared.”
“Make sure her doctor is there and get all the exits sealed off. I don’t want any unexpected visitors today,” I ordered. No one was coming near my wife without going through me first. Not after what she’d been through. I kept my hands on her, rubbing her back soothingly as I discussed the plan.
“Better call Edward and Belle,” Smith’s voice broke over the comms.
Yes, Clara would want them there. I pushed aside the flood of guilt I felt at hearing my brother’s name. I would talk to him later. I would explain then. He would want to be there now.
“The Bishops?” Brex asked.
“Let’s focus on Clara first.” I had no doubt that our dramatic arrival at St. Mary’s would catch media attention. That meant there was no need to call up her mum. The last thing my wife’s blood pressure needed at the moment was Madeline Bishop.
Clara’s body went rigid in my arms and I looked down to discover her face twisted in pain. “And Brex? Fly fast.”
“Roger,” he said. I took off the headset and passed it across the seat, looking up for the first time to see the new addition to our party.
Norris’s blue eyes met mine, his face a mask of reassuring calm despite the smeared ash and drawn lines. He looked like he’d been through battle. I didn’t bother to question his odd clothing. He was here, and I knew he was the reason Clara was alive and in my arms.
Keeping one arm around her, I stretched the other across to him and he gripped it firmly. I had hundreds of questions for him. They could all wait. I was about to become a father again and judging from Clara’s near constant pain, that would be happening soon.
I rearranged her in my arms, helping her rest against me as I supported her weight. I knew she couldn’t hear a word I whispered to her over the blades cutting through the air but I kept talking anyway.
“You’re so brave. It’s nearly over. I’m here. I’m going to be right here with you.” I wrote promises on her skin with words unheard. She felt them. I hoped they gave her strength.
Clara had faced so much. She would overcome this, too.
When we finally touched down on the helicopter pad at St. Mary’s, a medical team was waiting. Clara shrank away from them as they tried to help her into a wheelchair.
“I’ve got it,” I called as the blades began to slow.
The nurses looked torn between fighting for their jobs and taking on the King. In the end, they stepped aside.
“Show me the way.” I wheeled Clara quickly after them. She reached up, covering my hand with hers, as desperate for the contact as I was. If it was up to me, I would have carried her inside and held her through the entire labor.
“They’re prepping the surgery suite,” a nurse told me as we made our way out of the lift and down the corridor. “Dr. Ball is on the way to deliver the baby.”
“No,” Clara moaned. “I want a room. I need to move.”
The nurse shot me a panicked look. “How long has she been in labor?”
I didn’t have an answer to that question, but I wasn’t about to go against my wife’s wishes now. I had no idea how she’d been violated during our time apart, but I would do everything I could to empower her from this moment forward. “Get us a room. I’ll speak to the doctor.”
When we were finally shown into a birthing suite, Clara looked to me. “You and Belle.”
This proclamation was followed by an unearthly moan. I turned on the nurses who’d begun to set up monitors. One had rushed in with an IV. “Clara, they need to prep you for…”
She shook her head. “Baby is coming now.”
“Your Majesty,” a nurse dared to interject, earning her sharp looks from both of us.
“Out!” I ordered them.
“We can’t allow—” the nurse argued.
“Out!” I roared. They didn’t dare to disagree.
“Poppet,” I said gently. “We’re probably going to need the nurses.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she finally nodded. “Just give me a minute.”
I’d been trying to help her into bed the entire time, but she wasn’t having it. Instead, she shucked off the hospital gown, tossing it to the ground with a disgusted whimper. I watched as her abdomen tightened and Clara lunged for the bed railing, bending into the pain.
I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed close, rubbing her back, and supporting her. My wife knew what she needed and I wasn’t about to question that—not after what she’d been through.
We’d endured another five contractions in various positions when there was a knock on the door. A second later, Belle poked her head inside.
“I was called…oh!” She took in Clara, who was currently leaning against me in a sort of half squat. “Should I get the nurses?”
Clara shook her head, her teeth gritted as she breathed through another round. Belle came inside and closed the door quickly behind her.
“No one’s sure what to do out there,” she told me. “Brex and Smith are keeping them away from the door. Are we sure she should…”
She trailed away as Clara let out a blood piercing cry and reached for her. Belle took her best friends hands, the momentary shock wearing off with the contact. Tears began to stream down her face.
She sniffed hard, shaking her head and channeling the stalwart British calm our people called upon in moments of crisis. “Well, let’s get this going, shall we?”
Clara shot her a wan smile. “It’s going. Oh my god, I think I want to push.”
At her words, the hospital door opened and in strolled Dr. Ball, who did a double take at the scene unfolding before him.
“Clara, we need to get you into surgery,” he began. “I’ve been trying to reach Dr. Rolland. We’ll want to control…”
I stopped listening to him as I felt Clara shrink in my arms. When I looked to her, her face was wild and desperate. Her hand reached for my collar, clutching it tightly. “Don’t let them touch me. Not them. Don’t…let…the baby…”
She was trying to tell me something while a contraction complicated things. But the message was clear. She was terrified of him—and there was only one reason why.
My eyes flew to Ball, as fury blazed within me. I wanted to pin him to the wall and beat him to a bloody pulp.
I released Clara into Belle’s keeping and rounded on the doctor, who backed up, his hands flying into the air in surrender. Either he was a very good actor or completely flummoxed as to the cause of Clara’s fear. Grabbing him by the lab coat, I dragged him into the hall.
“Watch him,” I ordered Brex. “I want him questioned.” The nurses who had been waiting in the corridor tried to blend into the wall. “Get another doctor up here and find me someone who can operate on the baby.”
I didn’t have time for clearer instructions. I shoved Ball in their direction. He’d begun to protest the treatment but otherwise didn’t resist. I didn’t care what he had to say. I’d seen the pure terror on Clara’s face. That made him guilty in my eyes.
When I returned to the room, Clara reached out for me. Hurrying to her, I knelt and allowed her to hold onto my shoulders.
“Dr. Rol—” A contraction halted her and she fought to keep speaking. “Land was….there…”
My eyes flashed to Belle’s. I didn’t know this doctor, but Clara did.
“It’s the neonatal surgeon,” Belle said quickly, conveying what Clara could not at the moment. “The one who confirmed the baby’s heart condition.”
“I doubt he’s on his way here,” I muttered, doing my best to stay calm as fury ripped through me. A doctor—one she’d known and trusted—had betrayed her. “What about Bal
l?”
Clara shook her head. “But I…I…”
“I know, poppet.” She didn’t have to explain. There was no way to be certain Ball hadn’t known more about what happened to her, which meant he wasn’t about to get near her.
“I think I want to push,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Clara, I’m going to get a doctor,” Belle said gently. “Not Ball, I promise.”
She nodded to her best friend, her teeth beginning to chatter.
“Are you cold, poppet?”
She shook her head. I wanted to take away her pain—to bear it for her. It was driving me crazy to see her like this, and yet, I was proud. She’d fought them. She’d survived. She could do anything.
“X.” My name on her lips was a soothing balm but also a plea.
“Tell me what you need.” I would do anything for her. I just had to know what to do.
She pulled away, bending over the bed and beginning to sway as Belle reappeared with an older female doctor.
“Doctor Thompson.” She came over and shook my head purposefully looking me directly in the eye. “It seems your wife has had a change of heart.”
That was a mild way of putting it. “Is it safe for her to have the baby?”
“She seems to be doing just fine.” Thompson looks her up and down. “I’d like to check her though.”
“Ask her.” I wasn’t about to give anyone permission to touch her.
“Clara,” Dr. Thompson said calmly. “You look like you’re ready to have a baby. I’d like to check the baby’s heart rate if that’s all right. That will make certain that we’re safe in proceeding.”
Clara nodded, her teeth still clicking together. Thompson meanwhile bent down with her stethoscope. After a few moments, she straightened with a smile. “Sounds beautiful. Would you like me to check you?”
Clara looked at me apprehensively. I wondered how long it would be before she trusted someone to touch her. All I could do was reassure her that I was here. “It’s okay.”
She nodded, starting to push up onto the bed.