"Limo it is. I'll call you after our decontamination, dearest." I turn to the other three. "Now off you go, we have ointments and unguents to apply."
As the elevator doors slide shut behind her, I lean against the wall, only a fraction of the tension leaving my shoulders. Even though I’m happy Wes and Dono are back, I’m desperately in need of some peace.
What I wouldn’t give to be alone with a bottle of 1986 Château Lynch-Bages, an antipasto platter, and a re-watch of Bridgerton season one.
I should have been born in Regency England. Without a shadow of a doubt, that’s where my life would have evolved in a manner far more tolerable than this world.
No one says a word until the elevator dings as it reaches the fifth floor, then an uncontrollable burst of laughter bubbles upin me until it escapes in a loud gasp. “Scabies?”
The others join me in cracking up.
Gods, I’m wildly fucking glad I don’t have scabies.
“You can take your old rooms, they’re empty,” I tell the twins as I unlock the penthouse. “Max, I guess you’re on the couch tonight, but I’ll get something figured out for tomorrow.”
“It’s all chill, bro. I can curl up at the end of your bed like a good boy, if you like.”
“Hard pass.” I give an involuntary shudder. There is something about Maximus that is just so…uncivilized.
“Woof,” he grins, throwing himself onto the sectional. I turn my back; it feels like months since I’ve been here. The cool air iscedar-scented from various diffusers my cleaner sets around the place. I breathe in deeply, and my shoulders begin to relax.
Donovan goes straight to the liquor cabinet. “I take it everyone wants one?” He pours without needing an answer. “What are you going to do about Jordan?” he asks, handing me a full glass of amber liquid. “That shit can’t stand.”
“Currently, nothing,” I sigh. “There may be ninety-nine problems, and even though Jordan is one of them, she’s nowhere near the top of the list.”
Wes is looking at me quizzically. “I don’t understand. What are these problems you speak of? Why is everyone being so weird?”
I notice his hands are clutched around the crystal tumbler, but he hasn’t taken a sip yet. “Are you hungry, Wes?” I ask him, trying to feel my way.
“Hungry? No, just confused.”
Why isn’t he hungry? Did he eat down there? “I’ll order some food anyway,” I say lightly. “Do you need anything else?”
He shakes his head, frowning. “I think I’m going to lie down, my head feels kinda fucked.”
Donovan puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Good idea, bro. Want me to find some pain meds?”
Wes waves him away. “Nah, I’m good.” He gets to his feet, stumbling slightly, then heads into the room that used to be his.
“What the fuck is going on with him?” Maximus asks from his flopped position. “He’s got a very weird vibe right now.”
Donovan’s face tightens. “Yeah, that might be true, but we don’t know what he’s been through, alright? Maybe he’s been alone for twenty years—who the fuck knows?”
“Who the fuck knows indeed,” I reply. “But Max is correct, he’s not alright…and I don’t trust him.”
Donovan’s head snaps up.
Yeah, I knew that was a mistake even as I said it.
“What the fuck?” he demands, his voice, usually so laid back, is a low growl. “This is Wes we’re talking about, Cosmo. Remember him? Your only friend apart from me?”
I don’t allow myself to respond to Dono’s emotion. “I don’t recognize Wes right now. Think about the way he was with the dud. Did that seem like Wes Hart to you? I don’t know what’s happened, but I think we’d be fools to blindly assume he’s one hundred percent our Wes.”
“He’s still our Wes,” Donovan growls, his fists clenched. “I spent years down there on my own, and I’m barely holding on. If Wes can’t even remember his experience, that probably means it was worse than mine. Give him a fucking break.”
Rage is in his eyes, but he has to face reality. A desire for Wes to be OK does notmakeit so. “Don’t be naive. When we traveled around Avalon, our party stumbled upon Amirene, who’s all goodness and light,” I say, “but Wes? How do we know moving through that storm didn’t corrupt him? I can promise you that it nearly sent me over the edge.”
“But you were already bitter and warped.” Donovan takes a step towards me, his fists clenched. I think the fucker is actually going to hit me. “Wes is nothing but good.”
