Chapter 16
ALICE - THEN
I woke up with an ache in my shoulders that wouldn’t fade, no matter how I squirmed. My ankle hurt, too—the blankets were too heavy on my feet, twisting me.
My sleep had sucked. Brayden, who usually kept me awake with his snoring, had remained quiet. I shouldn’t be so tired. Why didn’t I sleep well? Everything hurt.
I stretched, wondering if I could stay in bed today. Feign a headache.
But as I moved, scratchy fabric slid over my skin. The scent of mothballs and pine filled my nose.
I froze. This wasn’t my bed, or my house. This wasn’t my nightgown.
I opened my eyes, and a large, man-sized lump lay on a cot next to mine. It wasn’t Brayden, though.
A flash of the trail at Blackberry Park. A man stepping out of the shadows, a mask covering most of his face.
That glint of determination in his icy blue eyes.
The ache at my ankle wasn’t blankets—it was a shackle.
Horror moved through me. I was sinking, sinking into the quicksand of this new nightmare. My lungs strained as I tried to claw my way out of it, but there was no escape.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. He was here, next to me. The man who took me from the park.
LANDON - NOW
I’m not sure what wakes me up. I slept great, with my arms around Alice.
She’s still here, in front of me. I breathed in her sweet, coconut scent all night.
Could I have roused her, and myself, and gotten us to our own beds?
Technically, yeah. But I didn’t have the willpower. Holding her felt too good.
But now something’s wrong. This must be what woke me.
She’s shaking, her body tense, her fists clenched like she’s ready to throw a punch.
“Alice, I think you’re having a nightmare,” I whisper. “Wake up, angel.”
Her breathing is shallow.
I run my hand over her shoulder, trying to wake her as gently as possible. Whatever she’s in the middle of, whatever horrors her mind is concocting, it’s bad.
Her fear-filled whimper is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.
Cody starts past the living room, on his way to the kitchen. He pauses mid-step. “What’s going on?”
“Nightmare,” I say. “Or panic attack.”
He changes course and hurries over. “Alice? Wake up, Wonderland.” He touches her forehead, leans in and listens to her breathing. “Panic attack, I think. Nothing for her but to get through it.”
I hold her, feeling helpless. She doesn’t seem aware of us at all.
“Angel, come on.” As carefully as I can, I ease her up to a sitting position. Her body remains curled in on itself, like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible.
“Alice, it’s Cody,” he says. “Can I get you anything?”
She shakes her head, the movement so subtle I almost miss it. But this is a start. She’s conscious, at least.
“See if you can match Landon’s breathing,” he says, giving me a look.
“Breathe with me,” I tell her. I start at her breathing speed, then slowly extend my inhales and exhales.
At first, it doesn’t seem like it’s working.
Then her breathing slows. It’s still too fast, but we’re getting there.
I keep steady, working with her, knowing that she can feel the rising and falling of my chest behind her.
“Relax your eyes and face.” Cody touches her cheek. “Start with your eyes, baby.”
Her eyes unscrunch slightly. Cody massages her forehead, his touch soft and full of care.
He can act pissed all he wants—he still has feelings for Alice.
A few more minutes pass. I keep my breaths slow and even. Soon, her pace matches mine. Her eyes open and she blinks up at Cody.
He drops his hand from her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted. I’m sorry—I woke up here, and I thought I was there, and it threw me, I guess?” She pulls forward, out of my grasp.
I don’t want to let her go, but she’s been held back by men for too long. When she stands, Cody hovers nearby, as if ready to catch her.
“I’m okay.” She gives him a quick smile. “Truly. Thanks for helping me. I swear I’m not trying to be the least convenient houseguest ever—”
“Stop it, please.” I touch her shoulder, drawing her into a hug. “You aren’t a guest—you’re our friend, Wonderland. You belong here, and if you have a panic attack, we’re here to help you with it. That’s what friends do.”
She nods, her lips turned down thoughtfully. “Okay. Well, thanks, anyway. I appreciate you both.”
I let her walk out of the living room and down the hall. A second later, her bedroom door closes.
Cody and I stare at each other. He raises his eyebrows and looks at the couch where Alice and I slept together.
I shrug, because what the fuck does he want me to say?
Yeah. I slept with her in my arms. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do it every fucking day if she let me.
ALICE - NOW
Yesterday, Landon said we’re friends. That he and Cody will help me through things, because that’s what friends do.
Do friends sleep together on a couch? Do friends hold each other like that?
Do friends stare at each other’s lips for long, lingering moments?
They must, because all of that has happened with Landon. Even Cody looked at me a little longer than necessary yesterday, after my strange…spell. Panic attack. Whatever the heck it was.
It’s Sunday. A nightmare about Abe woke me up just before dawn, so I sneak into the kitchen and start opening the fridge and cupboards, looking for things to work with.
Bread. Eggs. Bacon. Cantaloupe.
I get started, moving around the kitchen.
It’s the first time I’ve cooked since I got away from Abe.
The few days I was with Brayden in our house, I refused to cook.
If I was hungry, I’d heat something up or make a sandwich.
I don’t know what Brayden did for his meals—I didn’t pay attention.
Likely, he went to Jericha’s house or got take-out.
When I think of him at Jericha’s, I feel nothing.
Shouldn’t I feel something? Jealousy? I felt more jealous of Landon and the woman at the Greek restaurant than I do of my husband and Jericha.
The bacon is finished frying, and I’m halfway through cooking the french toast when Cody walks into the kitchen. He’s silent, so I turn to look at him. He’s in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, looking sleep-rumpled—soft and sexy at the same time. I nearly stutter as I say, “Good morning.”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head as if trying to clear it. “Good morning.”
I try to ignore the way his sweatpants hug his trim waist. Helpless against the visual treat before me, I turn and gesture toward the serving dishes with cantaloupe, bacon, and a pile of finished french toast. “You can help yourself.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He passes so close behind me, I can feel the heat from his body. No, I must be imagining it—the heat has to be because I’m standing too close to the griddle.
His arm brushes mine when he grabs several slices of toast and piles them on a plate. He picks up a piece of bacon and takes a bite. He moans. “This is perfectly done, Wonderland. Holy shit.”
“Yeah?” I smile, pleased.
“Yeah. Try it.” He holds the bacon toward my lips, a challenge in his eyes like he thinks I won’t accept it.
I take a bite, my tongue rejoicing at the smoky flavor and crisp meat. “Damn, I’m good at this, aren’t I?” I joke.
“You are.” His light brown eyes meet mine, but he isn’t joking—the way he’s staring at me hooks me at the bottom of my belly and loops everything around, tugging and twisting, tethering me to him.
I lean forward. Cody’s gaze flicks to my lips.
“You want this, Wonderland?” His voice sounds rough and lazy.
Yes, I want it. The thought of kissing him, of enjoying his hands on my skin…
He gives me a slow grin. He grabs my shoulders and turns me so my back is to the counter and he’s standing in front of me. “I want it too. Ask me how I know.”
I don’t have to ask. I look down to escape his hypnotic gaze, and I see his hardness pressing against his sweatpants.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, but his fingers linger there, stroking my neck. I risk a look at his face again and see him staring at me, his eyes half-lidded.
Am I really doing this again? I learned my lesson with Landon.
I shake my head and turn away from him, pretending that the french toast needs flipping even though it’s too early.
The spell is broken. My body doesn’t seem to get the message—every nerve is crying out for Cody’s touch.
“Too bad.” Cody grabs a couple more pieces of bacon and some fruit. He sits at one of the barstools in front of the kitchen island. I can feel his gaze on me as I work. It’s unnerving in the best kind of way. Like I’m worthy of his attention, his focus.
It’s incredible how fast he went from seduction to easy acceptance. Maybe I’m a game to him. That thought is unnerving in the worst kind of way. Like he didn’t want me at all; he just wanted to see if he could get me.
Landon wanders in next, thankfully oblivious to what just happened. “It smells like heaven in here, goddamn. Wonderland, never leave us.”
“It’s only breakfast,” I say with a little laugh.
He loads up a plate. I finish cooking the last of the french toast and fill a plate of my own, joining the guys at the island. I’ve just taken my first bite when my phone buzzes on the counter in front of me.
Brayden’s calling.
I sigh and flip the phone over, but it continues buzzing.
“Is that Brayden?” Cody’s eyes narrow.
“Yeah. He’ll call back.” But I give the phone a nervous look.
“If you want to take the call, you can,” Landon says softly.
I just want to eat in peace. “Ugh. I’ll find out what he wants.”
I slide off my stool and take my phone into the living room. The buzzing stops, which means he must have been sent to voicemail, but it doesn’t matter because he’s already calling again.
“Hi,” I answer.
“Alice, I’ve been trying to call you—why aren’t you picking up?”
“I just did.” I keep my voice even. I don’t want to fight. I want to find out what he wants so I can return to my breakfast with the guys. “What’s up?”
“I’m texting you a photo. Hang on.”
I wait until an image pops up on my screen. “It’s an empty box?”
“It’s your dresser. I gave Jericha all her clothes back. I’m making the changes you asked for, so you can come home.”
“I’m—I’m not ready yet.”
“Alice. You gave me that list.”
I think fast, trying to come up with an excuse. “I haven’t had a chance to look at the Church laws. Have you?”
“I’ve done everything.” His voice is hard.
“How about you go over them today, and we can meet this evening to discuss everything over dinner. You don’t have to come home tonight, but you might want to.
I’m behaving for you, Alice. You’re the only one who can make me better. I love you. You’re my wife.”
I’m married. It’s something I want to forget as I stay with Landon and Cody, playing house, pretending that this is my new life.
“So, dinner?” Brayden asks. “We can eat at the deli.”
My favorite sandwich place. He never wanted to go there once he found out I used to frequent it with Landon and Cody.
“Fine. Woodstock’s Deli. What time?”
“I can pick you up at eight.”
“No, I’ll meet you there at eight.” It’s close enough to walk to. I can only imagine how he’d flip out if he picked me up here and saw I’m staying with Landon and Cody. I don’t want that kind of drama today—talking to Brayden about our marriage will be hard enough.
His voice is tight. “See you then.”
I return to the kitchen to find the guys both sitting completely still. There’s food on their plates, but they aren’t eating.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I say.
“Did I fucking hear you say you’re meeting him tonight?” Cody asks.
Landon smacks him, but Cody ignores the hit.
“What are you thinking?” Cody presses.
“I’m thinking I’m married, and he’s my husband, and we have some things to work out.”
“It isn’t even a legal marriage,” Cody mutters.
The words hurt me more than they should. But he’s calling the validity of my marriage into question, and I can’t stand that. “We are married,” I insist. “I said the vows, the Church recognizes it, and it is real to us.”
Cody folds his arms across his chest, his jaw tight.
“We know.” Landon turns in his seat to face me more fully. “We’re just concerned about Brayden and his treatment of you.”
This is similar to what they said Before.
“So you’re meeting him at Woodstock’s?” Landon continues, and I’m grateful I don’t have to respond to what he said about Brayden’s treatment. “How about we come along?”
“No, no way.” I shake my head, freaked out at the idea of them sitting off to the side, gazes hard and watchful. “It’s dinner. I don’t need bodyguards. I promise. I’ll walk there, talk to Brayden, and walk back.”
“He’ll try to get you to go home with him,” Cody says.
“He won’t. I already told him I’m not ready.” I sit down and gather a forkful of french toast, determined to be casual. “It’s dinner, because he and I need to talk. Please relax, guys.”
They exchange a look, but I let it go. It’s only seven a.m. and this day is already too long.