Page 62 of His Cruel Exception

I know I failed him when he was kidnapped and I wasn't there to stop it. But I went after him. I went to Long Island, guns blazing, and tore through those bastards to get him back.

Only I didn't, did I?

I found him, held him in my arms for a few precious moments, and then got myself shot. I can't help wondering if seeing me at my weakest has changed the way he feels about me. Perhaps he's realized that I'm not as invincible as he thought. But how can he tell me he loves me and then leave when I'm in no position to stop him? Was he planning to leave all along, or did something happen while I was unconscious that made him change his mind?

“Okay,” Dad finally says, drawing my attention back to him. “You can go after Alexander, but Davide and Doctor Hill will come with you.” He takes his phone out of his pocket. “I'll call Gabriel and have him get the jet ready.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Dad gets to his feet, gives my good shoulder a gentle pat, and leaves the room. I lower my head into my hand, trying to figure out where the fuck I'm supposed to start looking for Alexander.

He might have gone home to Trenton. It's the only place I can think of right now. I'll start there and keep looking until I find him. The door opens again, and I lift my head, expecting to see one of my cousins, but it's Martha. She's carrying a wicker basket covered with a floral cloth, and the moment I see her, I sit up straighter.

“How're you feeling, dear?” she asks, setting the basket on the couch before coming over to me.

“Is he with you?”

She shakes her head. “He came by the house two days ago and told me he had to leave for a while, but he wouldn't tell me where he was going. When he called, the number was blocked.”

I look at her, trying to think of something to say. She looks exhausted, and although she's doing her best to remain composed, I can see the worry in her eyes. It can't be easy for her, not knowing where her only son is or whether he's truly safe.

I feel like a fucking failure for putting her through this. I promised to take care of her son, and instead, she's standing in front of me, worried sick about him.

“I'll bring him home, Martha. I promise you.”

Her eyes well up, but she blinks back the tears before they can fall. “You should be resting and not stressing yourself,” she says, looking at me with concern. “Alex will come back, I'm sure.”

I wish I could share her confidence, but I can't sit around hoping Alexander will eventually decide to come home. What if he's in trouble? What if he's somewhere he can't reach out to anyone?

“I can't sit here and do nothing.”

She studies me for a moment before nodding. “I can come with you.”

“No, you have to stay at home in case he comes back.”

Martha nods reluctantly before pointing toward the basket on the couch. “I brought soup and the cookies you like,” she says.

“Thank you, Martha.”

The door opens just then, and Davide walks in, looking like he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in days. His clothes are wrinkled, and there are dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Glad you're back among the living, sir,” he says.

I smile at that and give him a nod. “Good to be back.”

I slowly get to my feet, ignoring the pull in my neck and the ache spreading through my shoulder. “Grab the basket,” I tell Davide, nodding toward the couch.

He picks it up, and we leave the room with Martha.

My family is still gathered outside, now joined by Logan, Dylan, and Stacy. They all turn toward us as we step into the hallway.

“When are we leaving?” Logan asks.

“Leaving?” I ask, looking at him in confusion.

“You know, to go and find Alex,” Stacy says.

“We want to come with you and help,” Dylan adds.