I allowed a small smile to escape as I stared out of the window of the private jet terminal. Then my smile faded as a thick cloud moved across the sun. Ronan hadn't called again, which worried me.
Declan had refused to discuss it when I asked him what might happen. He rolled his eyes and said the twins deserved a stint in jail for ignoring his orders. That had pissed me off, so for the last three hours, I'd given him the silent treatment.
Immature? Yes. Justified? Also, yes.
Did Conal love me too? I pondered the question while resting my heated cheek on the cool glass. Ronan's exact words, stillburned into my memory, were 'we love you'. That suggested Conal felt the same way.
I hoped so, because it would be impossible to pick one over the other.
I chewed my lip, unable to see how any of this would work. Declan needed Ronan and Conal at his side, which meant if I stayed in the US, I'd be on my own.
This thing between Declan and me was temporary. Even I knew that. His guard was well and truly up now that we'd left the hotel, which meant he wasn't interested in anything more.
His emotional withdrawal hurt, but I had no choice but to accept his decision.
My bladder twinged. Dammit, I needed to pee. I’d been holding it for ages, and if we didn't board the jet in the next ten minutes, there was a risk I might pee my pants. My stomach felt sore, too. Mostly likely stress-related. The last few days had been off the charts in terms of stress.
Declan stood talking to Ash. He seemed angry about something, which made me hesitate. I'd go pee first before asking for an update on the twins.
I prayed my angry bladder cramps weren't the start of a raging UTI. If it was a UTI, God was definitely punishing me. And who could blame him? I'd scored a hat trick: three out of three brothers. Each one sexy as sin. Except the third…well, he was about to escort me to my sister's place and leave me there like an unwanted pet.
A woman wearing a smart gray uniform hovered nearby, her eyes firmly glued to Declan. I edged closer, not enjoying the painful squeeze in my bladder.
"Is there a bathroom I can use?" She reluctantly tore her gaze from Declan's delectable ass and focused on me. A bright, plastic smile followed.
"Of course! Please follow me."
She escorted me through a door and pointed down the corridor. "It's the second door on the left."
"Thanks."
The bathroom was empty when I pushed my way in. The cloying scent of lemon disinfectant made my already delicate stomach heave, and I nearly didn't make it to a toilet in time. What little food I'd eaten earlier came up and out, leaving me a sweaty, shaking mess.
When the urge to vomit chunks all over the place finally passed, I dragged my carcass up, flushed, and then emptied my bladder in relief.
Needless to say, I looked like total shit when I finally glanced at my wan reflection in the mirror. Had something disagreed with me? Food poisoning had struck me down once before, in London. It had been a highly unpleasant experience, and definitely not one I wanted to repeat.
This didn't feel the same, however. For one thing, all I had was nausea. Hopefully, it was nothing serious. I sure didn't relish the idea of spending a flight to the US staring into a toilet bowl.
The sound of a door opening made me look up. A man walked in pushing a large cleaning trolley. He looked around to check if the toilet cubicles were occupied.
"I'll get out of your way," I said before leaning over the sink to rinse my mouth out. When I lifted my head, he was right behind me.
"Are you Verity?" He had a thick accent. Not Italian, something more East European.
I frowned. Had Declan sent him to find me? Surely if so, he would have asked Ash or Connor to fetch me, not some random cleaner dude.
Something seemed off, but I ignored the nagging voice in my head. This was an airport terminal. Everyone who worked herewould be security vetted. And besides, Declan and his men were a short walk away.
"Um yes? Is our flight boarding?"
"No." When I scanned the man's uniform, I realized he had no security lanyard or name tag. Nothing to tell me who he was or what contractor he worked for. "Not for you." Before I could react, he'd pulled a syringe from his pocket and stabbed it into my neck, quickly depressing the plunger.
I tried to scream, but the drug hit me almost immediately, numbing everything. My legs wobbled and slid from under me. As I slumped to the floor, I felt the man catch me and then everything went black.
49
Declan
