Page 60 of His Cruel Exception

I listen to my cousins continue talking, expecting to hear Alexander's voice among them, but I don't. Knowing him, he's probably sitting in a corner, trying to make himself as small as possible so he doesn't disturb anyone.

I need to see him.

I force my eyes open again, blinking several times until I can make out the ceiling above me. Everything is blurry at first, but as my vision clears, I turn my head and look around the room.

Marco is the first to notice that I'm awake. He jumps out of his seat, calling the others' attention to me, and within seconds, my cousins are cheering and crowding around the bed, all of them talking at once. I barely hear a word they're saying as I look past them and search the rest of the room.

Alexander isn't here.

“How're you feeling?” Marco asks, leaning closer to the bed.

“Where's Alexander?”

My cousins exchange glances, and the expressions on their faces immediately put me on edge. No one answers, and a terrible thought occurs to me.

“Did something happen to him?”

“No,” Enzo says quickly. “He's fine.”

“Then where is he?”

Marco lets out a breath and sits on the edge of my hospital bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. I don't like the way he's hesitating, and my patience is wearing thin.

“I shouldn't be telling you this when you just woke up after being unconscious for two weeks,” he says. “But some of the Falcos' men weren't on Long Island when we took them down. They tried to grab Alexander two days ago, but Davide killed them.”

Those fucking bastards went after Alexander again?

I can already feel my anger building, but I force myself to concentrate on the one thing that matters right now. “If they didn't grab him, then why the fuck isn't he here?”

“He left, Antonio,” Raffaele says. “He texted and said not to worry, but he just had to leave New York for the meantime.”

I wait for the rest of the explanation, but he says nothing.

“That makes no sense,” I mutter, more to myself than anyone else. “He can't just leave.”

“I think the actual kidnapping and the attempted one scared him,” Enzo says. “I've asked Logan, and he has no idea where he went, only that he's okay.”

Several emotions hit me at once, the first being anger. I'm fucking furious with these idiots I call cousins. I leave them in charge for two weeks, and they can't even keep the one person who means the world to me safe. I know Davide stopped the attack, but it should never have gotten that far in the first place. We should have anticipated that some of the Falcos would still be out there, looking for a way to retaliate.

The second is anger, which is far worse than anger.

Alexander is out there somewhere, probably still recovering from what those bastards did to him, and I have no idea where he is or who's watching over him. He must have been terrified to leave New York, and the thought of him being hurt again while I'm lying in this fucking hospital bed makes me want to tear something apart.

“I need to get out of here,” I say, pushing the covers aside.

Marco shakes his head. “The doctors won't discharge you yet. They said the bullet only narrowly missed your carotid arteries.”

“I don't fucking care.”

“You can't do a lot with your arm in a sling either,” Enzo adds.

Truly, there's a dull ache running from my shoulder down to my elbow, but I don't remember getting shot there. My cousins must see the confusion on my face because Raffaele speaks before I can ask.

“Francesco shot you in the arm when you were down. He was about to shoot Alex when Carmine entered the room and killed him.”

“And we've been looking for Alex,” Marco says. “That's why Davide and the others aren't here. They're searching every nook and cranny of New York.”

Maybe they aren't totally useless after all, but I still need to find Alexander myself. They can search the entire fucking city and still come up empty if he's already left New York. For all I know, he could be halfway across the country by now. I push myself upright, biting back a groan as pain shoots through my neck and shoulder. My entire body feels stiff, and I have to pause before I can swing my legs over the side of the bed.