Page 66 of Hostile Bond
25
SINÉAD
It's the sharp intake of air into my lungs that jolts me awake.
My eyelids flick upward, letting my gaze focus on the unfamiliar surroundings. Beyond a double-glazed window there’s a typical cloudy Irish sky, making it difficult to tell if it’s morning or afternoon.
A stabbing pain in my side warns me of the reason why I’ve woken up in a hospital bed, alone in a private room. I struggle to roll onto my side and hazily notice the tube attached to my hand leading to a bag of fluid.
Gunfire.
Blood.
André!
Fuck!
My heart levitates and my scalp prickles. He was hurt too. Yet he had carried me out of The Rusty Shamrock and… and it's all too foggy. His deep voice lurks in a hidden vault in my brain. The weightlessness of being wheeled down a bright corridor flickers in my memory, a sharp prick to my veins. Green and blue scrubs, latex gloves, and questions. So many questions.
André!
Where is he now?
I have to find him.
Ineedhim.
Throwing back the thin sheet covering me, I take in the hospital gown I’m wearing and fight a fresh wave of nausea crashing over the top of me. When I drop my feet over the side of the bed and push to a wobbly stand, I exhale steadily to recover from the blood rushing from my head to my limbs.
Assuming the taped needle on the back of my hand leads to pain relief, I rip it out, knowing I can’t stay hooked up to the stationary clear bag. A tiny red bead trickles down to my knuckles.
Blood.
Everywhere.
Strangers.
Mine.
His…
I’m lightheaded and woozy, but that won’t stop me. His love is all I have left in this world and without him, my heart would give up beating.
My light footfall doesn’t make a sound on the rubber-like floor, but it triggers a fleeting glimpse of the past—Mammy and I huddled together. Her comforting body heat pulling me into her embrace. The delicate essence of rose on her pale skin and a subtle hint of charred wood lacing her hair. Her motherly devotion—for me—always.
She’s dead.
Liam’s dead too.
Because of me.
I almost crumple in a heap as the memory slams into me. My miserable whimper pierces the unbearable silence in this vast, lonely room. All my courage and fight fades to black as I drown in those dreadful seconds, reliving their murder.
Crippling grief twists my gut and spears my heart. I’d wanted her to be free of worry. Protected. To join us on the sunny island where she could have grown to love my husband for the man he is––not the ruthless cartel leader the world sees. Except now it's too late for her…for him?
When I reach the internal windows shuttered by vertical blinds, I pad to the doorway sandwiched in the middle and grab the handle. I notice how my breathing is heavy and my throat is uncomfortably dry.
My body is drained, and my recollection of time is patchy. I inhale and force myself to move, the urgency of finding him my only priority.
