Without a Hitch(105)

“Tilly?” Lochlan’s slurred plea drags my gaze to his just in time to see his eyes glass over as he collapses to the floor.

Someone screams on my right as I sink to my knees beside him. My hands roam his body and I hear someone behind me call 911.

“What’s going on, Tilly?” Nova asks at my side. Her father sits across from me as a stranger pushes through, saying she’s a nurse.

“Has he been ill? Fever? Any symptoms at all?” The questions come in rapid succession, and I swallow, trying to find words. I glance up at the older woman but catch sight of Christine’s smirking face right behind him.

When her gaze lands on mine, I mouth the words of Lochlan’s promise. “I’m not done with you.”

It’s a vow, a promise, a warning. And I never break a freaking promise. The hatred for this woman comes from a dark place within my gut that tells me she’s pure evil, and I do the only thing I can in this moment.

I love on Lochlan.

Returning my gaze to the nurse, I answer all her questions as Lochlan’s parents empty his pockets, searching for medical cards and identification. “He’s had a fever. And pain in his side.” My hands ghost along my stomach, mimicking his earlier actions to remember which side he was clutching. “On his right side.”

“He was vomiting yesterday, but we thought it was from all the candy he ate,” Nova interrupts.

“Anything else?” the nurse asks as she checks for a pulse. I watch her expression change when she doesn’t get the response she expects and then begins chest compressions.

Oh my God. Chest compressions. “He's been a little confused. Like he's drunk, but not really. Is— Is he going to be okay?” My voice cracks.

“We need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible.”

A heavy hand lands on my shoulder and suddenly another stranger is explaining the scene before me. “This is probably just a precaution. Sometimes they start chest compressions when a pulse is weak until they can get more stable care.” I feel the color drain from my face as Lochlan groans on the floor.

Probably a precaution. Right now probably feels like a four-letter word cursed in a dark alley.

We sit for an eternity as the nurse continues to work on the man I love. Eventually—or within minutes, I’m not sure—a stretcher is wheeled in, and Lochlan is hefted onto it. The nurse relays information over the hum of worried bystanders. “Lower abdomen pain. Fever. Possible…” Her voice fades as fear rings in my ears.

I don’t know what any of that means, and my body spasms with worry.

Lochlan’s mother grabs my hand and slips a cold metal ring onto my ring finger before ushering me after the EMTs. “Can she go with him? She’s the only one who fully knows his symptoms,” she pleads with the man in charge.

My gaze drops to the ring she just slid on, and my body moves in slow motion as I take in what I’m seeing.

“Only family members, ma’am,” the EMT says.

“She’s his fiancée.” Kitty turns to me and takes my arm, dragging me outside. “We’ll follow right behind. Stay with him as long as you can and tell them everything.” Her face is lined with worry, but she takes charge, and I realize how strong a mother’s love can make you for the first time in my life.

You either rise to the challenge, or you melt into oblivion. I don’t want to melt. I want to rise up. I want to be the woman Lochlan sees, so I nod and kick off my shoes.

Another EMT offers me a hand and hauls me into the back of the ambulance. I sit where they direct me and watch the nightmare unfold before me. He’s poked and prodded. Tubes added here, needles there, all while we race the clock at mind-numbing speeds down a highway I don’t recognize.

Please. Please let him be okay.





C HAPTE R 41

LOCHLAN

T he incessant beeping is what I notice first. Like a mosquito that buzzes around your ear, waiting for the perfect opportunity to suck you dry. The second thing I notice is how sore and dry my throat is.

I flex my fingers. One hand is held tight, so I crack open one eye, then another. The room is dark, but there’s no mistaking the pungent smell of a hospital. Slowly, I turn my head to the left and find my beautiful warrior. Her upper body is hinged over my bed with my hand held closely in hers.

She’s breathtaking all the time, but in sleep, without anyone watching, she’s an angel. My eyelids grow heavy, and I succumb to sleep, content in the knowledge that Tilly Camden is by my side.

The next time I open my eyes, the sun is low in the sky, but I don’t know if it’s rising or setting.

Tilly still sits vigil at my side, holding my hand in one of hers, and scrolling her phone with the other.

She’s wearing scrubs. How long has she been here?

I watch as her expressions change. She’s focused intently on something, and I see it play out on her face. Anger. Dismay. Determination. It’s all there for the world to see. If only everyone would take the time to see her as I do.

“The world is missing out,” I croak and smile when she jumps in her seat.

“Lochlan? Holy Hades. Let me get the nurse.”

“Wait,” I manage. She pauses halfway out of her chair. “Water.” I want to add a please, but it’s too painful to talk.

She wastes no time, lifting a bottle of water out of her bag and holding it to my lips. I drink like it’s my first breath of air and relish the way the cool liquid coats my sore lips and throat.