Page 56 of Claimed By the Rockstars: Part One
"Yes." He shifts again, grimacing, and has to pause mid-breath as something clearly sends pain shooting through him. When he speaks again, his voice is rougher, still not looking at me. "It's the most secure room in the penthouse. Reinforced door, separate locks, cameras. Not that Stephen would set foot in the building itself."
"What, do painkillers and antibiotics make you a white knight or something?"
His lips quirk—barely, just the corner of his mouth on the undamaged side—but it's there. A ghost of amusement that shouldn't exist on Rex Steele's face.
"Something like that," he mutters.
I pinch the bridge of my nose to stave off the building headache at the thought of using my mortal enemy's room. "And you won't be using it?" I ask carefully.
"Not for the next week, according to the sadistic fucks running this place." His visible eye flicks to the IV in his arm with disgust. "Might as well have someone using the room who actually needs the security."
He blinks slowly, like he's trying to focus but can't quite manage it through the haze of medication.
"I…" I trail off, not sure how to respond. "Thanks…?"
"We're even," Rex says, his words coming out slightly too honest. "I protected you from that scumbag. You didn't let them take my mask. Phoenix told me." He pauses, jaw working. "Besides... not like we have any secrets to hide from each other anyway. I know you're a girl. You know I'm a monster."
Nothing to hide except the fact that I’m an omega, anyway.
I wince at his word choice. “You're not a monster."
Rex goes completely still. His visible eye narrows to a dangerous slit, but the reaction is sluggish, delayed by the drugs.
Oh,shit.
"You didn't see," he says slowly, like he's just solving a puzzle through a fog of painkillers. "In the tunnel. You didn't actuallysee."
"I saw scarring?—"
His laugh is bitter, sharp enough to draw blood. He turns to look at me fully now, and there's something raw and wounded in his expression that the drugs won't let him hide. "If you'd seen my face, you wouldn't be able to deny it. You wouldn't even be able to look at me without..." He trails off, his gaze unfocusing, staring off into the distance. "Even Nash couldn't?—"
He cuts himself off, but not before I catch the raw pain bleeding through his voice.
Nash couldn't what?
Look at him?
The sentence hangs unfinished between us, too vulnerable to complete even though the painkillers are clearly deteriorating his filter. This proud alpha would never admit this otherwise.
And suddenly I see it.
The arrogance, the cruelty, the constant aggression. It's all armor. Layers and layers of it, built up over years to protect something that's been hurt so badly it can't risk being exposed again.
"My room's code is 6623. Don't touch my shit," he slurs. His eye is starting to flutter closed, the painkillers finally winning. "Now get out before..." He trails off, fighting to stay conscious. "Before Phoenix starts thinking I strangled you with my IV tubing."
Even that attempt at his usual dark humor comes out wrong, too soft, missing his typical venom. The drugs are pulling him under despite his best efforts to fight them.
"Rex—"
"Out, Bells."
I don't need to be told twice.
But he's wrong. We don't know each other's secrets. Not really.
Because Ididn'tsee Rex's entire face.
And he still doesn't know I'm an omega.
