I reach for the door, and he glares at my hand.
"Don't you dare touch that."
I pause like it might set me on fire and wait for him to exit his side, come over to mine, and open the door for me. "Such a gentleman."
He even extends his hand for me to place mine in to help me out. "For you, always."
"But for everyone else?" I shove my clutch up under my biceps and slide my hand up under his.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks about me." Miller leads me across the walkway and into the front of the hospital, his gaze scanning the place for threats, no doubt.
I do what I can to keep an eye out, but I'd be lying if I said I knew what I was looking for. Other than disgusting Ricardo and the men he's had snatch me off the street, I wouldn't be able to tell anyone else apart from any of the other random people in this place.
"This way." Miller points ahead, and I follow him without question.
It's not hard to notice the way people step out of his way or don't look him directly in the eyes as he passes. There's this strange authoritative dominance to him that causes people to respect him, to fear him, but to me, he's just Miller—the super sexy stalker who vowed to hold onto my secret when it became too heavy for me to carry any longer.
Suddenly, Miller tugs me to his side and his entire body stiffens as he reaches under his shirt. It all happens so fast, his reflexive movement, the grip on his gun. The way he positions himself between me and the obscenely loud man who barrels down the hallway.
His face is bloodied, his shirt covered in crimson. The man calls out, "You have to help me, someone help me. Where is she?" His chest rises and falls rapidly as he darts his wild gaze at each passing person.
Finally, a hospital worker in blue scrubs approaches him, his hands reaching out trying to calm the frantic man. "Sir, are you injured? Follow me and I'll get you help."
"Don't touch me!" the man yells and swats at the worker.
Miller, with his back still toward me, one hand reaching to keep hold of me and the other on the gun still in his waistband, inches us along the wall and slips us past the guy. He doesn't remove his hand from around the gun, not even once we're no longer in the same hallway. Instead, Miller comes to my side, his free hand finding my lower back. "You okay?"
"I am," I reassure him and silently hope that the man finds whatever it is he was looking for.
Miller nods ahead. "Room two nineteen."
Once we reach the door, Miller pauses, "Wait here." He scans the hallway before slipping inside and returning less than twenty seconds later. "Come on."
I follow him in, my sights immediately settling on London, lying there on the bed with beeping monitors surrounding her. Rushing over to her, I slow down and gently take her hand in mine. "London, hey, it's Cora," I say quietly.
Her face is swollen, bruised, and cut. An uncomfortable brace is around her neck, and there's a cast on her right leg and left wrist. London's gorgeous red hair is matted to her head, and I sort of wish I would have brought her a hairbrush and some things to make her more herself despite her incredibly unfortunate condition.
The condition that is all my fault.
Maybe when I come to visit her tomorrow I can bring her some things to help her feel more at home and less trapped in a hospital room.
Her green eyes flicker open, both speckled red with busted blood vessels. "Hey," she barely croaks. "What's up?"
I sigh and sit along the edge of the bed, taking her hand between both of mine.
"Hey, pretty lady. How are you feeling?"
London's lashes flutter. "High as a kite."
"That's good." I fight the urge to cry and keep a straight face for her. "I'm so sorry."
She tries to shake her head but gets hardly any movement. "It's been worse; this is nothing." London's gaze shifts past me to Miller who stands guard at the door. "It's not safe for him here."
It's then that it dawns on me how completely stupid this was. Ricardo may have let me temporarily off the hook, but if he finds out Miller is here, he'll no doubt send his goonies to snatch him up so he can get his revenge. I wouldn't be surprised if Ricardo has posted people in the hospital to keep a lookout for who's coming and going from his daughter's room. The plan was to make him think nothing was going on with me and Miller, but if he's smart, he'd see right through our thinly veiled lie.
"It's fine," I tell her. "I needed to come see you. Make sure you’re okay." I squeeze her hand gently. "You're so strong, London. So fucking strong."
London licks at her dry lips and smacks her mouth.
