Page 131 of Romancing His Heart
“Sloane?”I hear my sister’s voice, and my eyelids flutter, fighting to open. “Take your time. You’ve been through a lot.”
I nod my head, but I’m so groggy my eyes refuse to cooperate.
“What’s wrong with her?” Eli demands.
“Nothing is wrong with her. The doctor gave her a mild sedative to help calm her down. She went through acute trauma, and she needs rest to recover.”
“I’m okay,” I rasp while my eyes remain closed.
“You asshole. What were you thinking going in there like that? You’re not Lara Croft, you know?”
“Eli,” Emory scolds. “That can wait.”
“Well, she better hurry up and get better so I can kill her stupid ass.”
My lips curl into a smile before I drift off again.
* * *
“She’s still asleep?”Tilly whispers.
“Yeah, but I think she might be waking up. They weaned her off the sedatives this morning, and she’s been moaning more,” I hear Lanie say in a hushed tone.
“Is she in pain?” Tilly’s voice wavers.
“I—”
“Yes,” I croak. Slowly, I open my eyes. “I feel like I was hit by a truck.”
“You kind of were,” Lanie says gently. “Dex told me you took a hit at such close range it really was like getting hit by a car.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Can I see Loki now?”
I see the girls exchange a look and the monitor beeping with my heart rate speeds up.
“Yes, you can see him,” Emory states, grabbing some hand sanitizer as she enters the room. “They’re wheeling him back from his CAT scan now. I have to warn you, though, he’s … well, he took another hit to the head. His memory is a little scattered right now.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and force out my question. “Does … does he remember me?”
Emory hugs her elbows tightly at her sides, a sure sign she is uncomfortable.
“Does he?” I demand.
“Yes, but I don’t know how much he remembers, Sloane.”
I absorb that information in silence. “Has he asked for me?”
Emory looks to Eli for help.
“Has he asked about me?”
“I’m not sure, hun. I’m not in charge of his care, so I haven’t seen him awake for very long.”
Forcing myself to sit, I cry out in pain. “Fuck.”
Emory runs to my side. “Sloane, you can’t move around like that. You have a bunch of broken ribs and a punctured lung.”
“Christ, no wonder I can’t breathe. I need to see him, Emory. Please, take me to see him.”
