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November 20th
6:39 A.M.
Lila felt off this morning.
Sluggish.
Cold.
Sore.
It wasn’t just her ankle—although the constant throb of pain was becoming almost more than she could bear—every muscle and joint in her body ached.
And she was cold.
The kind of chilled down to her bones cold that made her feel like she was never going to be warm again.
“You okay?” Christian asked.
“Mmhmm.” She nodded, keeping her gaze fixed on the MRE she was supposed to be eating for breakfast before they started another long day of walking. Now instead of reaching the mansion late tonight like the original plan, they wouldn’t get there until tomorrow.
If nothing else went wrong.
She couldn’t quite forget Christian telling her yesterday about her gut. That feeling she’d had that something wasn’t right had turned out to be true when they’d been shot at. Not at, Christian had been shot, and she was terrified of him getting hurt again. Was this weird feeling she had now her gut again?
Was that man still out there? Were Ross and Zara nearby? Would one of them get injured today? Or maybe the weather would get worse, and storms and snow would roll in. So many things could go wrong, and she was feeling totally overwhelmed.
An arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her close against Christian’s strong, solid frame, and lips touched her temple. “Your gut acting up again?”
Lila nodded. “What is yours saying?” She trusted his a whole lot more than hers because she wasn’t convinced hers wasn’t anything more than nerves and exhaustion.
“It says nothing is going to stop me from getting you home.”
His non-answer did nothing to alleviate her anxiety. She knew him well enough to know when he was trying not to worry her.
If he felt it too, then there was definitely danger in the air.
“Trust me, honey,” Christian said.
“I do,” she assured him. “I just … I feel … I don’t even know.”
Lifting his hand, he touched the back of it to her forehead. “You’re a little warm.”
“I’m freezing.”
His brows knit together. Obviously not what he wanted to hear. “One of your wounds is infected. Probably the deeper one on your arm. You need to take some more antibiotics.”
Lila grabbed his hands when he went to open his pack. “No, we should keep them in case you need them. Your wound is worse than mine and if we get delayed again its more important you stay healthy. You’re the one with the weapon who knows how to defend yourself.”
She could tell he didn’t like it, but they both knew she was right. Christian was the one who could protect them if the man who’d shot at them came back or if they ran into Ross and Zara and their men. If she got sick, he could always leave her behind and go on himself, but if he got sick, she couldn’t do the same.
“Take the antibiotics, Christian,” she urged.
Reluctantly, he took the pills, then winced as he repacked everything and stood. He might have been shot but other than the small wince you wouldn’t know it. His movements were smooth as he slipped his pack on, and he was steady on his feet when he reached out to help her up.
In contrast, Lila felt like she was a straw man, clumsy and uncoordinated as she took Christian’s hand and allowed him to help her stand. It took a moment for her to get her balance, and she tried to summon an encouraging smile so Christian didn’t worry about her too much. In truth, her ankle was screaming in agony, and she wasn’t sure it would last the rest of the walk back to the mansion, but Christian had more than enough on his mind already.
