Resisting Mr. Kane (London Mister #2)(80)

I’ve lost him.

Now, I fear everything. My one stupid careless mistake could mess up every aspect of my life. The taxi crawls along giving me the opportunity to spiral out of control. Can I lose my job over this? How can I continue to work at Madison anyway? Tristan won’t allow it. Worse, is Tristan powerful enough to get me struck off, so I lose my right to practise as a lawyer? I’ve never seen this side of him, and I don’t know what he’s capable of.

What kid wants to swallow a bottle of Valium? Why the hell would you do that? I had them zipped in a side pocket, it’s not like I added them to the meal. Part of me is angry at Daniel for what he did and I can never admit that to Tristan—if he ever speaks to me again that is. Some thoughts should stay private from the world.

My stomach contracts into a tight ball and I worry I’m going to throw up all over this taxicab as it starts and stops at lights and turns. I don’t even know how I ended up in the taxi on the way to the hospital, almost as if I’m having an out-of-body experience.

This is all my fault.

Oh, what I would do to turn back time. All I had to do was drop the pills into the chemist. This morning, Tristan was telling me he wanted us to go public in our relationship, now I’m worried he’s going to get me struck off the Roll of Solicitors

But Daniel was breathing. He’ll be fine.

The alternative is unimaginable.

I didn’t know how long I’d been gripping onto the edge of the taxi, lost in my own world, until the driver’s voice snapped me out of my daze. “You okay, love? The hospital is just over there.”

I clear my throat to thank him. I fumble for my bank card to swipe the card machine. Usually, I curse at how much a taxi costs in central London, today I don’t even notice the price.

As I pelt towards the hospital entrance, I check my phone for the millionth time. Nothing.

Inhaling that distinct hospital smell, I make my way to Emergency.

"Good afternoon," I say shrilly, twirling the loose strands of my hair nervously as the receptionist looks up from her computer. I’m breathing hard and I only ran a few metres.

She waits a moment before arching a brow for me to continue.

“Sorry, I’m here to see a young patient who’s just come in with his father, Daniel Kane.” My body spikes with adrenaline and the words come out in a rush.

“Yes, he came in fifteen minutes ago.” She sounds bored as she turns back to her computer screen. “Only family members can see him right now. Are you family?”

“No.”

“Take a seat for now and one of the family members should be out. We’ll tell them you’re waiting.”

Oh fuck. I’m not sure I’m ready to see Tristan. I’m too scared. Surely one of the nurses can tell me how Daniel is? “Can I just check how he is?”

“No, we don’t disclose details of patients. Only the doctors or nurses can do that.”

“Right,” I mumble, nodding as there’s nothing else I can do. “Thank you.”

Finding a seat, I slump into it before checking my phone again. I turn it off and on, put it in aeroplane mode, and reset the Wi-Fi, all the things Megan tries when Damo ghosts her. I get it now, the agony of waiting for a text message.

No new messages.

In the waiting room, my doomsday brain decides it'll be the perfect time to think of every worst-case scenario. I’m a drug-pusher. What if Daniel doesn’t make it through? Can I go down for manslaughter?

The internet claims most Valium overdoses only result in unconsciousness, and there have only been a handful of deaths. Please let the internet be right.

Except I can’t even be sure what’s in those pills.

Please let Daniel be okay—he has to be okay.

“Excuse me, my son, Daniel Kane?”

My head jerks upward at the sound of the soft panicked voice.

Shit. Tristan’s ex-wife, Gemina. She looks pale and frantic and it’s all my fault. She’s prettier than I remember. Those cheekbones, no wonder she looked amazing in every photo I found online. This is what contouring is about. I bet she has a professional version of Megan working on her face every morning.

What will she say when she finds out it’s my fault? I hastily take a magazine and place it in front of my face. I don’t know if she would recognise me, but I’m not taking any chances.

“I’ll buzz you in now.” I hear the receptionist say. “One of the nurses will greet you at the door.”

Watching her stride in, I have no choice but to check my phone, again. I don’t know how long I’m in this dazed state before a doctor walks out.

Quickly, I get on my feet. “Doctor, may I ask how Daniel Kane is doing?”

He takes a glance at me for a moment, giving his clipboard to the receptionist before turning to me. “Are you family?”

My face pales at his question. Classing myself as Tristan’s girlfriend currently didn’t count by any means. Am I still his girlfriend? Swallowing my nervousness, I stare up at him. “I’m the father’s girlfriend.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t disclose the patient’s status,” he says apologetically. “I’ll tell the father you’re here.”

Lowering my head, I return to my seat. Tristan already knows I'm here, he’s read at least one of the messages.