Page 7 of Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy 3)
Wait.
Love?
The word crashes through my brain like the bullet that apparently shattered the windshield of the car.
Is that even . . . possible?
I slump back on the bed, my strength sapped, and she comes closer.
“Are you okay, Ms. Kilgore?”
Am I okay?
I don’t know how to answer. Right now, I’m grappling with the most shocking—but obvious—realization of my life.
I’m falling in love with Lachlan Mount.
Scratch that. Not falling. I’ve fallen.
“Ms. Kilgore? Is something wrong? Are you in pain?”
I shake my head. “It’s not that. I’m . . . it’s just . . .”
Her eyes turn sympathetic. “Delayed shock?”
“Maybe.” The pillow cradles my head as I stare up at the ceiling and come to terms with the truth.
I’ve heard traumatic experiences can have a very crystalizing effect on your thoughts, but how could I have missed that this was building beneath the surface?
“Dance with me, Lachlan. Dance with me in Dublin.”
His smile from that night flashes through my brain. Is that when it happened? Does it matter?
“Let me reattach these leads so we can keep an eye on you. I’m pretty sure he’d literally kill me if I let anything happen to you now.”
She tapes my IV back down and then moves toward the machine, straightening out the tangled leads I ripped off before reattaching them to me, but I’m not paying attention to her at all.
Which is probably why I miss whatever else she adds to the mix pumping through my IV until she speaks.
“You need to rest,” she says as she removes the bag that was hanging there.
“What did you do?”
“Just gave you a little something to help keep you comfortable.”
My eyes grow heavy and I open my mouth to protest, but I’m no match for whatever drugs she sent pumping through me.
“He’ll be here when you wake up.”
Mount
Keira’s screams echo in my brain on repeat as I thrash against the sheets and drag myself from an uneasy sleep. What the fuck did they give me? I told them I didn’t need shit. I needed to stay aware. On guard.
The same thoughts have been on repeat in my brain since that fucking bullet slammed through the windshield. I can’t lose her. Don’t you fucking take her from me.
“Where is she?” My voice sounds hoarse to my own ears when it finally cooperates, but there’s no way to miss the desperation underlying my demand. “Is Keira okay?”
“I’m right here.”
