Page 5 of Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy 3)
“Stop. You’re hurt. Don’t—”
“Not until you’re safe. Not taking any fucking chances with you. Where the hell are they?” His head swivels from side to side as my vision threatens to go dark again.
What’s wrong with my head?
I force the fuzziness down because there’s no way I’m passing out again. I’m stronger than that.
I squeeze his hand in an effort to get his attention. “I’m not losing you either. Do you understand me? Stop being such a stubborn bastard.”
His gaze drops to me, and any evidence of the pain he felt a moment ago seems to vanish as one corner of his mouth quirks up. “Deal.”
Tires screech and I turn my head, wincing as agony shoots through my temples. Only I can’t see anything because Lachlan angles us away from the street, gripping me tighter and turning his back to the oncoming car. Using himself as a human shield.
“Don’t you dare—”
“Shut up, Keira. When it comes to you, I’ll do whatever I have to.” His big hand cups the back of my head and presses it against his chest.
Another car screeches to a halt, and the sound of doors opening penetrates my pounding head. Footsteps thump against the pavement as Lachlan turns his head.
“Thank fuck,” he whispers, his body relaxing as he swivels around and I catch sight of Scar.
Another face that used to inspire fear now only brings relief. Scar bolts toward us, as silent as always, but fierce rage is stamped on his every feature.
Lachlan clasps me tighter against his chest. “Take her. Lock her down. Your life for hers. Understand me?”
The silent man nods, and Lachlan loosens his grip on me. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Keira. I swear I’ll rip down those pearly gates and come for you myself.”
Scar’s arms form a cradle around me, a hold I know all too well, but my fingers won’t release their grip on Lachlan’s collar. The fabric stretches as Scar steps away, tearing my grip free.
“I’m not leaving you!” I struggle in Scar’s arms, even though every moment makes my stomach roil and my body cry out for me to stop. “Put me down. I’m staying with him.”
Scar grunts in my ear, and my gaze fixes on the shirt Lachlan’s wearing. The left side is completely soaked through with red. At first, I think it’s mine, but the torn fabric and the steadily pumping flow tell me I’m wrong.
“Leave me! Save him! He needs you more.” Tears flow down my face as Scar holds me tighter, not letting my pathetic struggles deter him from taking me farther and farther away from Lachlan.
Two other men rush toward us, but I don’t know them.
“Kill them!” I scream, not recognizing my own voice. “Don’t you fucking touch him, you basta
rds!”
Lachlan staggers and the men catch him, one on either side.
“Get her safe—” His voice cuts off as his body goes slack in the arms of the two strangers.
“No!” I scream, but Scar continues toward the car, not acknowledging what just happened. “Stop! You have to go back for him!”
I fight his grip on me, clawing at his shoulders, uncaring about the anguish tearing through my body. Horror drowns out the pain as they drag Lachlan’s limp body toward a car I don’t recognize, and Scar heads for the familiar one.
“Let me go!” I shout, but my voice breaks as he lowers me into the backseat and slams the door in the face of my protests.
I grope at the handle, desperate to stop the men from hauling Lachlan away, but Scar is already in the front seat. The doors lock before he slams the car in drive and speeds down a street in the French Quarter.
Weeks ago, I would have rejoiced at being driven in a speeding car in the opposite direction of Lachlan Mount, but that was before. What he said in the hangar was right. Everything has changed.
Tears pour down my face in rivers as I turn to look out the tinted back window. In the rapidly increasing distance, two men load Lachlan’s lifeless body into the backseat of the other sedan.
My voice goes hoarse as I scream at Scar to take me back, but we turn a corner and I lose sight of him.
