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My stomach drops. Is Landon dead? My bottom lip trembles, and I can’t stop it. I pull it between my teeth and bite it, but all it does is cause my jaw to shake.
We follow her into a private office, where she gestures for us to sit in the chairs in front of a plain white desk. She then takes the seat behind it. I’m already preparing myself for the worst.
“I’m Doctor Remi Taylor. I operated on Mr. Sinclaire,” she says, opening a manila folder in front of her. “The bullet had lodged itself near his heart.”
My hand flies to my mouth, and I suck in a breath. Tears fill my eyes. Hunter squeezes my hand firmly in his grasp.
“Is he...?” My voice cracks.
“No. Mr. Sinclaire is alive, but he’s very critical. We’ve put him in an induced coma as his body needs to heal. The time it takes for his body to heal will determine when we slowly lift the drugs holding him in his current state.”
“So he’s all right?” I breathe.
“He’s not out of the woods yet. He’s still got a lot of healing to do. He’s going to be in the hospital for some time.” Her face meets mine.
“Thank you for saving his life.” I reach over and squeeze her hand.
“It’s my job. Now, I understand you’ve spoken to the police already?”
We both nod. We were interviewed as soon as I was discharged and told the police that Ezra had shot Landon, and then Levi shot Ezra in self-defense. It’s mostly the truth. “Okay, that’s good.”
“Can we see him?” Hunter asks, appearing worn down. He’s received numerous phone calls from people who, I’m guessing, once worked for his father. He now has a mess to sort out with the underworld to make it a better place. The weight of the world is on his shoulders now.
“Yes.” She rises from her chair, and we anxiously follow.
She leads us to the ICU area of the hospital, and before she opens the door to a room, she gestures to a box of masks and a bottle of hand sanitizer. Hunter and I slip on a mask and thoroughly rub our hands with the antibacterial liquid.
“Typically, no one is allowed in here, but I can make a brief exception given the circumstances.”
Landon lays peacefully on the bed, his eyes shut. The machines around him beep, and I rush to his side, taking his hand gently.
“I’m so sorry, Landon.” I weep. He shouldn’t be the one in this bed. It should have been me.
“I’ll give you a moment. Talk to him. He may not be able to respond, but they say it helps. If you need anything, please let me know.” The surgeon quietly exits the room.
“Hunter, I’m so sorry. If I had told you, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Hunter comes to me and wraps me in his arms. I break down, sobbing into his shirt.
“This may or may not have happened. We’ll never know the outcome of any other situation. Landon is a fighter, and I know he’ll pull through this. I’ll make sure he has the best care and is kept under careful watch. My father is a dead man if I ever catch him unless he’s already dead. I can only hope.”
“Still, this is all my fault.”
Hunter brushes his hand through my hair, which drapes down my back. “No, it’s not. This is because of my father’s hate and his taste for power. Everything will be all right,” he assures me, but I don’t feel settled.
At least, before, Hunter knew where he was.
If anything, I’m more scared because now I don’t know if the man who wanted me dead is alive or not.
* * *
We sit with Landon briefly before exhaustion catches up with me. The sun is slowly peeking over the horizon, and I can’t remember the last time I slept. My body feels wrecked and has begun to ache, and my head is pounding.
“Let’s go. We’ll get some rest and come back.”
We say our goodbyes and leave, grateful for the time allowed with him.
As we drive down the familiar driveway leading to May’s, my head rests against the window, and Hunter’s hand sits on my leg. I feel completely wrecked, as though a truck has run me over.
