“Right?” he insists when I don’t respond with words.
“Right. I’m sorry, Killian. Please stop hating me.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, the agitation visible.
“I don’t hate you. If I did, it would be easier. When I saw that letter, a million things ran through my mind. Then I saw your face and my heart shattered.”
He moves to the bed and takes my hand in his. And for the first time since I saw them at the motel—I can breathe.
“Never again, Killer. No secrets—no running away—never again.”
I nod as a tear travels down my cheek.
“I swear to you. Never again.”
Knox enters the room with a man in his forties wearing a lab coat. He has dark hair, and distinguished features.
“I’m Dr. Jacobi. I’d like everyone to clear out so I can examine Ms. Mancini.”
All three of my men shoot him a glare that says he must have lost his mind.
“We will be staying, doc. Do your thing,” Kill says, and I shake my head.
“I must insist-“
Carter interrupts him.
“We are not leaving you alone with her. Get your fucking examination over with or get out.”
I sigh loudly.
“Please doctor. Let them stay. Chances are they’ll never let me out of their sight again.”
All three of my men move to the other side of the room, arms crossed over their chests with identical scowls. I wonder momentarily if they’ll always be like this when other men are around.
The doctor sits on the bed beside me and looks at my face.
“What were you hit with?”
“A closed fist a few times and an open hand.”
He nods in understanding.
“I’m going to touch your face. I’ll try to be gentle, but I know it’s tender.”
He touches my cheekbone and I hiss from the pain and then he does the same with the other side.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?”
I try to tune Killian out as the anger radiates from him.
“No. He only hit me in the face.”
He listens to my heart and seems satisfied.
“Nothing is broken. I would expect the pain to lessen in a few days. Was there a sexual assault?”
He turns to look at my men and then back at me.
