Page 150 of Wedlock
I’d expected to stab him in the throat, temporarily disabling him long enough to run out the door, but somehow the syringe enters his left eye.
Shouting out, he swipes at me and, instinctively, I punch him, hitting the syringe and pushing it deeper into his orb, the liquid injecting into him. Staggering forwards, he shoves me in thechest and I topple backwards, trip over a chair, and land on my ass on the floor as he careers towards the window. Quite unexpectedly he smashes headfirst into the tray of needles before sliding to the carpet, unmoving.
Rising, I lock the door in case the noise had alerted the guard to something being wrong, before advancing on the doctor to ensure he wasn’t going to rise anytime soon.
Nudging him with my foot I nod with satisfaction. He’s not dead, I think I just knocked him out with whatever he was planning to sedatemewith. I don’t know how long I have until he comes around, and I don’t want to stay here to find out, but I also don’t know if the guard is still stationed outside the room.
As I straighten up and consider my options, I spin, squeaking in terror, as the door is smashed in with such force that it flies off its hinges, and a blood-splattered vision bursts in, taking three long strides and wrapping me in his arms.
“Are you hurt?” He murmurs into my hair. “Did they harm you?”
“No,” I sob, as shock, awe, and relief all hit me at once, and I grip my husband’s shoulders like a shipwrecked cat clinging to a piece of flotsam.
“I’m so sorry,” he groans as he pulls me back slightly to study my face, wiping away my tears with his thumb.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I whisper, touching his swollen eyes gently and gasping at his split lip.
“Oh, God, Falcon.”
“You should see the other guys,” he laughs gently.
I shake my head.
“I love you.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” he murmurs.
I look up into his eyes, so full of adoration.
“What happened? How are you here? The boys…”
“I’ll fill you in on everything when we get home,” he sighs. “Attracta has the boys. They’re in the car waiting for us.”
“We’re free to go?”
“Yes. Is he dead?” Falcon motions with his head to the doctor on the floor.
“I wish,” I mutter.
Releasing me, he leans down and picks up the doctor’s feet, dragging him towards the smashed-in doorway. Picking up the heavy timber door, he slams it down across the doctor’s neck once, twice, three times. As his head comes off completely, Falcon kicks it out the doorway and down the long, marble hall, leaving a smear of blood dozens of metres long.
Turning back to me, he smirks at my expression and gives a quick bow.
“Your wish is my command.”
“Jesus, fuck!” I whisper.
“Anyone else you want me to kill?” He asks casually as he walks back and swings me up into his arms like I weigh nothing.
“Yes,” I murmur into his neck as he strides down the long corridor, cradling me in his strong arms, “the Queen.”
“That will come,” he growls.
116
I walk towards my bedroom and smile into the phone as Wolf updates me on the gossip in royal circles following our visit to the Court.
It’s only been twenty-four hours, but apparently, I’m on everyone’s lips, and whispers were being heard about my implication that something was up with The Games.
