Chapter 12 – Bells
BELLS
The elevator doors open and Phoenix is already there.
Not just waiting in the penthouse. He's in the fucking elevator lobby, pacing like a caged animal, his blond mane disheveled and his eyes red-rimmed. The moment he sees us, his whole body sags with relief, then tenses again as he processes what he's looking at.
Rex, soaked and silent, giving off the kind of emptiness that feels deeply wrong.
And me, drowning in Rex's hoodie and sweats, my wet clothes balled up in a plastic bag.
Phoenix doesn't hesitate. He crosses the lobby in three massive strides and crashes into Rex like a golden retriever who's been left alone too long. His arms wrap around Rex's rigid frame, squeezing hard enough that I hear Rex's breath catch.
"You fucking asshole." Phoenix's voice cracks on the word. "Your phone was off. We couldn't find you. I thought…"
He doesn't finish. Doesn't have to.
Rex stands there like a statue, his single visible eye staring at nothing over Phoenix's shoulder.
"I'm fine," Rex says, and the words are so flat they might as well be automated.
Phoenix pulls back just enough to look at him. His blue eyes are wet. Phoenix, who I've never seen cry, who holds everything together with golden retriever optimism… he's been crying.
Over Rex.
"You're not fine," Phoenix says quietly. "But you're here. That's enough for now."
An emotion flashes across Rex's face. Gone too fast to name. Then he's extracting himself from Phoenix's grip, stepping back, rebuilding his walls in real-time.
That's when Phoenix turns to me.
"Bells."
And then I'm the one being crushed. Over six and a half feet of alpha slamming into me hard enough to lift my feet off the ground, his arms banding around my ribs like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go.
"Holy fucking shit, Bells." His face is buried in my hair, his voice muffled and raw. "You just took off. Into the fucking woods. In the rain. We couldn't—Rafael tried to grab you and you just—do you have any idea how—"
"I'm okay," I manage against his shoulder. "Phoenix. I'm okay."
He doesn't let go. If anything, he squeezes tighter, and I feel something wet against my scalp. He's crying again. Or still. Over me this time.
"You found him." Not a question. A statement of wonder. "You actually found him."
"Yeah."
"How?"
I don't have an answer I can give him. Can't exactly explain that my omega hindbrain locked onto Rex's scent like a fucking GPS signal and dragged me through the woods until I found him sitting in the mud talking to his dead brother.
So I just shrug against his chest.
"Lucky guess."
Phoenix doesn't look like he believes me, but he lets it go. His hands linger on my shoulders when he finally pulls back, like he's not quite ready to stop touching me.
Rafael emerges from the penthouse door, phone still clutched in one hand. He takes in the scene with dark, unreadable eyes. Phoenix hovering over me, Rex standing apart like a ghost, both of us dripping onto the marble floor.
His gaze snags on Rex's hoodie hanging off my frame. The sweats I've rolled three times at the waist. His eyebrows climb toward his hairline.
"You're wearing his clothes," Rafael says flatly.
"Mine were wet. His were dry. It's not complicated."
"Riiiight." He draws the word out. "And you found each other. In the rain. At a cemetery."
"Is there a problem?"
"No problem." But his eyes are still fixed on the hoodie, something I can't read moving behind them. "Just making observations."
Phoenix steers us toward the penthouse door, one hand on my lower back. He reaches for Rex too, but Rex sidesteps the touch without acknowledging it. Phoenix's jaw tightens, but he doesn't push.
The penthouse is too bright after the dark cemetery. I squint against the lights, suddenly aware of how wrecked I must look.
Rafael falls into step beside me as we cross the threshold. Close. Closer than he usually walks.
"You scared the shit out of us," he says, low enough that only I can hear. "Running off like that."
"I had to find him."
"I know." His hand lands on my elbow, steadying me when I stumble over nothing. "But next time, you take backup. Yeah?"
"Understood."
His fingers squeeze once before dropping away.
Rex is already disappearing down the hallway, his wet footprints leaving a trail on the hardwood. He doesn't say anything. Doesn't look back. The door to Rafael's room closes behind him with a quiet click.
Not a slam. Not this time.
Somehow that's worse.
"Couch," Phoenix commands, steering me toward the sectional. "Now."
"Phoenix, I'm fine."
"You're hypothermic and stubborn, which is worse." He's already grabbing blankets from somewhere. "Raf, heat up that soup from yesterday."
"On it."
I sink onto the couch, too tired to argue. Phoenix descends on me with blankets, draping them over my shoulders, tucking them around my legs, producing a throw pillow from nowhere.
"Better?"
"I feel like a burrito."
"Good. Burritos are warm." He settles onto the cushion beside me, close enough that his thigh presses against mine through the blanket layers. "You need to eat. When's the last time you ate?"
"I don't know—"
"That means too long." He twists toward the kitchen. "Raf, make it two bowls!"
"Already on it, mamá."
Phoenix flips him off without looking.
Rafael returns with two steaming mugs, handing one to me before dropping onto my other side. Right next to me, so close I can feel the heat of him through the blankets. And Phoenix, too.
"Tea," Rafael says. "With honey. Soup's heating."
"Thanks."
"Drink it."
I drink it.
Phoenix keeps adjusting the blankets. Rafael just sits there, solid and warm, his shoulder against mine.
"What happened out there?" Phoenix asks eventually. "After you found him."
I stare into my tea. "We talked. He told me about Stephen's ultimatum. Why the photos dropped."
Phoenix goes taut beside me. "Stephen did this."
"He gave Rex a choice. Send me back, or the photos go public." I take another sip. "Rex didn't send me back."
"Son of a bitch." Rafael's voice is low and vicious. "I'm going to kill him."
"Get in line."
Phoenix exhales slowly. His hand finds my knee through the blankets. "And Rex? How was he when you found him?"
I think about the cemetery. The rain. Rex sitting in the mud talking to his brother's grave.
"Not good," I say quietly. "But he got up. He walked back to the car. That's something."
"That's everything." Phoenix's voice is rough. "A few hours ago, I wasn't sure if—" He stops. Swallows. "I'm glad you found him."
His hand is still on my knee. Rafael shifts, and suddenly his arm is draped along the back of the couch behind my shoulders.
"You look good in that," Rafael says, nodding toward Rex's hoodie. His voice is strange. Lower than usual. "Suits you."
I blink. "It's three sizes too big."
"Still suits you."
Phoenix makes a sound of agreement. "It does."
I don't know what to do with that. With any of this. The way they're both looking at me, the way they've arranged themselves protectively around me.
"You're being weird," I say.
"We're being concerned," Phoenix corrects. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes." He tugs the blanket higher on my shoulder. "Concerned means we give a shit. Weird would be if we didn't."
Rafael hums in agreement. His fingers brush the back of my neck, casually, but it sends a shiver down my spine.
The soup comes. I eat it because Phoenix watches every spoonful and Rafael keeps refilling my tea. By the time I've finished, my eyelids are getting heavy.
"You should sleep," Phoenix says softly.
"I should check on Rex."
Both alphas go still.
"Bells..." Phoenix starts.
"He hasn't come out." I push off the blankets, forcing myself to stand. "Someone should make sure he eats something."
Rafael catches my wrist gently. "He's not going to want company right now."
"I know." I pull free carefully. "That's exactly why he needs it."
They exchange a look. Then Phoenix sighs.
"There's leftover pasta in the fridge. He can usually manage that."
Usually manage.
Another piece of the Rex puzzle.
"Thanks."
I plate the pasta without really thinking about it. My brain is busy with other things. The cemetery, the things Rex said about Nash, the way he looked at that window during the drive back.
The hollow look I'm trying very hard not to name.
Rafael's door is closed when I reach it. No light from underneath. I balance the plate on one hand and knock.
No answer.
I knock harder. "Rex. I brought food."
Still nothing.
I try the handle. It turns.
The room is dark, just city light through rain-streaked windows. Rex is sitting on the edge of the bed in dry clothes, his back to the door, utterly still.
"Did Phoenix send you?" His voice is flat.
"Phoenix is having a quiet breakdown in the living room while Rafael pretends not to notice." I step inside, closing the door behind me. The plate lands on the nightstand with a clunk. "I'm here because someone needs to make sure you don't starve yourself out of spite."
"I'm not hungry."
"Didn't ask." I settle onto the edge of the bed. "You haven't eaten since this morning. Probably longer. Your body is still recovering from infection, you spent hours in the rain, and you're clearly in some kind of shock. Eat."
He doesn't move. Just stares at the window.
That hollow look is back. The one that makes something cold settle in my stomach.
"Rex."
Nothing.
"Rex."
"Why are you here?" The question comes out raw. "Why do you keep—after everything I've done to you—why won't you just leave?"
"Because I'm stubborn and you're stuck with me. We've established this."
He makes a sound that might be a laugh if it had any warmth in it. "You should leave. Everyone should." His voice goes vicious, turned inward. "Everyone—"
He cuts off with a snarl, raking both hands through his damp hair. Then down over his face, pressing his palms against the leather of his mask like he's trying to hold himself together. He folds forward over his knees with a groan.