Page 118 of Playing With Danger

“Sweetheart.”

That was not Valentine calling me an endearment. It was my mother.

Sweetheart?

I might not be dying but there was definitely something going on.

“Someone please tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.

I was still staring at Hayden when my mother asked, “Should we call the doctor first?”

The doctor?

“She doesn’t need her doctor, Lorelai,” Hayden spoke up. “Valentine?”

“Alright, Sophie, look at me, baby. Lorelai, go sit by Hayden, yeah?”

My attention went to Valentine—slowly this time to avoid the dizziness—but it was diverted when my mother squeezed my hand.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Sophie Lynn, I promise.”

With that she let go of my hand and did what Valentine had directed her do. Who was this woman and what happened to No-One-Tells-Me-What-To-Do-Lorelai? Valentine took my mother’s vacated place and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Did Khloe say anything to you before she took you?” he asked.

I cast my mind back to letting Khloe in. Her appearance now made sense. She had her drugging and kidnapping outfit on, complete with sneakers instead of heels.

“Um, she said something about doing it the easy way. She made a comment about me not being at the apartment very often. I don’t know, I don’t remember much.”

Valentine slowly nodded but the small gesture contradicted his stiff posture.

“And when she had you, did she say anything?”

She said a lot of stuff. None of it made sense and I couldn’t piece it together with big chunks missing. I had no recollection of leaving my apartment other than being wheeled to the front door. I didn’t know how I got to wherever she’d taken me to. I remembered her screaming at me. I remembered being terrified I couldn’t move. I remembered the pain of being stabbed.

I love you, Soph.

I remembered hearing Valentine. But that memory was nothing more than a whisper, like it wasn’t real, something my mind had conjured up.

“She said I didn’t look anything like her. She yelled about being a family. She just yelled and ranted about stuff I didn’t understand. Something about her dad being wrong. I was more concerned I couldn’t move than what she was saying. I remember begging my legs to work and them not working.”

I paused to swallow down the tightness in my throat. “It was getting hard to breathe. I was scared I was going to die and Hayden would blame himself.” I heard a grunt that didn’t come from Valentine. “And I was afraid I wasn’t going to live to call my mother back and work things out.”

My mother’s sob tore through the hospital room and I wondered why I couldn’t stop my thoughts from spilling out.

Regret—that’s why. I’d been drugged, kidnapped, and stabbed. I was terrorized with fear, made immobile, and during that time when I thought I was going to die I had regrets.

I held Valentine’s gaze and told him the truth. “I was so scared I was going to die without telling you I loved you. That’s what I thought about when she stabbed me. How much I regretted not telling you.”

I watched his eyes slowly close. When they opened, his hand moved to my face, palm to my cheek. His touch was feather-soft—achingly gentle but excruciatingly sad.

I both hated and loved it.

“I love you, Soph.”

I knew he did.

He’d already told me as the darkness took me. The last thing I’d heard was his voice.

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