Page 22 of Brutal Queen

It’s early but I would’ve expected them all to be up already. I make my way through the rooms and notice that inside nothing much has changed. The outside may scream, ‘Bianchi headquarters’ but it still feels like home. I push open the door to my study and it’s like a shrine to my memory. I’m not sure I like it. It’s a representation of everything I was before, but so much has changed.

I retreat quickly, closing the door, and heading towards the stairs. As I pass what was the dining room, I see a big change. This must be Aurora’s office. It’s filled with familiar furniture from her dad’s office, and I can’t help but smile. Not only does the room feel entirely like her, but she made her own space here, meaning that she feels like she belongs.

I continue towards the stairs, my limbs complaining as I climb each step. Bearing in mind how close they’ve all become in my absence, I have no damn clue which room I’ll find anyone in, so I decide to head to mine. I like the idea of lying in my own bed for the first time in weeks.

The scene that greets me when I open my door pulls a contented sigh and a broad smile from me. There’s a tangle ofpeople in my bed. Benedict and Aurora lie in the centre, their arms and legs entwined like ancient vines. Nico is plastered to Benny’s back with a possessive arm thrown across both of them, and Sinclair mirrors his position behind Aurora.

I’m in awe of the closeness they have, and I’m a little jealous that I’m not a part of it. I should feel honoured that they’re all in my room, but I feel like an intruder.

I ease back out of the room and head downstairs, straight to the basement. I’m out of breath by the time I reach the med-room and as I step through the doorway I notice it doesn’t feel like it did before. It doesn’t carry Aurora’s scent or have Benny’s TV in it.

“You’re home,” comes a familiar voice behind me. I hear the gentle pad of her feet on the tile floor, the snick of the door as she closes it behind her, and then her hands fall softly against my back. Shivers snake up my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Tracing her fingers along my shoulder blade and then gripping my bicep she turns me to face her.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers, her voice choked with emotions that I can’t help but mirror.Ican’t believe I’m here. I never thought I’d see her again.

I’m scared to meet her gaze. Worried that if I do, it will break some spell and I’ll wake up alone in that basement again. Despite how many times she’s proven that this is real, sometimes I still doubt it.

When her lips touch mine, I feel like new life is being breathed back into me. I forget every doubt. Every niggling worry that there’s no place for me here anymore. Every caress of her lips is a declaration that I’m hers, and it stirs up a myriad of emotions that clear out my thoughts and leave me breathless.

She pulls away slowly, her hands stroke my face and herlong nails tease the hair at my temples, making me lean into her touch. “Why didn’t you wait for us? We were coming to bring you home.”

“I couldn’t wait,mia guerrierotta,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Then why are you down here,mio re? Why are you hiding from me? From us?” she says, dropping one hand and interlacing her fingers through mine. I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes. It’s easier to say this when I’m not lost in those emerald irises.

“I saw you all upstairs, and honestly, I felt like I didn’t belong. Like maybe there wasn’t a place for me.” My words pull a soft gasp from her lips.

“You don’t think that maybe all of us sleeping in a shrine to you every night you’ve been gone means the exact opposite? That we were incapable of functioning without you being present in some way?”

I can’t help but smile. “Well… when you put it like that.”

“I’m sorry you felt like that when you saw us. To be honest, we maybe should have warned you, and we definitely should have moved out so you could have your space back.”

I cup her face and angle her chin up. “When you thought I was dead, it’s what you needed?” She nods. “You don’t need to apologise for doing what you needed to do to keep going.” I press my lips to hers and lose myself in her again. Her tongue sweeps across mine, eager and urgent, like she’s trying to prove that I’m really here. That I’m not going anywhere.

It’s hard to pull away, but I have to. There’s nothing I want more than to never come up for air again. But I’m already fading fast. The short trip home has exhausted me and the dull throbbing of the most recent surgical scars in my arm are as regular as clockwork, reminding me that it’s time to take my painkillers.

“Let’s get you upstairs and evict the guys. You need to rest.” She’s already guiding me out of the room. She looks back over her shoulder with a sly smile and says, “Besides, it’s my time to play nurse.”

I wakeup a few hours later and everything feels right. I’m surrounded by the familiar. I’m not alone in the dark, or being bombarded by loud machines announcing my medical status to strangers.

I’m truly safe for the first time in weeks.

As odd as it was earlier, finding them all bundled in my bed, it’s strangely reassuring to know that they’ve been keeping me close to them. That it hasn’t been left stale and lifeless, like a tomb to my memory, like my office had. Waking up here surrounded by their scents—it makes my whole room feel like home and draws a contented smile from me.

I hear Aurora’s soft sighs before I crack my eyes open and spy her curled up in a chair that wasn’t there when I fell asleep. I must have been out for the count if they were able to bring that in without waking me. It’s an oversized round, slouch-cushioned armchair that looks like several muppets were skinned to cover it with its obnoxiously loud green shaggy fabric. Aurora is fast asleep, cocooned in a blanket, with an e-reader clutched in her arm.

I can’t help but stare. Aurora’s a strange and wondrous creature who’s somehow entwined herself through every part of our lives, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s a force of nature. I’m awed that a woman so petite can embody such strength and power. Over the last few weeks in the hospital, she never once let her guard down. She was every ounce the leader her capos needed. But I’ve beenso eager to get home. To see the side of her that she only shows us.

I was worried that things would have changed. That Max might have taken the last little pieces of her fragility. But seeing her curled up now in her ridiculous chair, I know there’s still a part of her that’s just ours.

One that wears sweats and slipper socks and still looks sexy as fuck. One who refuses to get her own e-reader so that she can fill Sin’s with all manner of smut. I can see from the cover displayed right now that she’s currently reading something that features an axe-wielding lumberjack.

That’s when my gaze flicks to the hand she’s cradling her e-reader with and I smile at my signet ring on her index finger. I noticed it when we were in the hospital, but it never felt like the right time to bring it up. I hated thinking that she’d felt the need to memorialise me, but also loved that something of mine was always with her. It made me wish I could always carry something of her with me. I might need to talk with Nico about a tattoo. Something I could have etched on me that no one can take away. Something permanent.

“I can feel you watching me, Zo,” she says with a little smirk before stirring into a cat-like stretch. “You fancy curling up with me and catching up on some shows?”

I use my good arm to hoist myself up to a seated position against the headboard after jamming the pillows behind me.

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