Page 4 of Romancing His Heart

I march into the room like I own it and stop dead in my tracks. Facedown on the bed is a large, bloodied body, and I scream. The body doesn’t move, but Seth barrels into the room behind me. I’m already moving toward the bed.

Loki.

“Stop, Sloane, stop,” Seth yells, unable to see Loki’s face from where he’s standing.

I drop to the bed beside him. I may not be the doctor in the family, but I know how to check for a pulse.

“Go, Seth. Get my sister. Get Emory, now. It’s—It’s Loki,” I choke out. I’ve seen enough pictures I could tell his handsome face from a mile away. Even behind layers of dirt, blood, and God only knows what else, I can tell this is Preston’s missing friend.

“Fuck.” I hear Seth curse as he sprints down the hall.

I run to the bathroom and grab a bunch of towels and wet washcloths with lukewarm water. I could tell from one touch that Loki felt feverish, which probably isn’t a good sign. Running back to his side, I drop it all on the bed.

Emory, hurry. Someone, I need someone to tell me what to do.

With great effort, I roll him onto his back before I climb onto the bed. Kneeling beside him, I use the wet clothes to wash his face. I’m looking for the source of blood as I go, but so far, I’ve found none.

Leaning over him to grab a clean towel, I’m thrown back when his hand closes forcefully around my neck. His eyes are wild as he asks, “Who sent you?”

He’s crushing my airway, and I can’t make any sound.

“Who. Sent. You?”

His middle finger twitches just enough I’m able to choke out, “Preston. I’m— Preston sent me.” His fingers relax a fraction as I read the confusion on his face.

“Loki! Jesus Christ, let her go,” I hear Preston’s voice but can’t see anyone as my vision blurs. I barely catch the flash of my sister’s hair as she runs past, plunging a syringe into Loki’s side. I register shock before his eyes go glassy, and he falls back to the bed.

“That’s only a mild sedative. If he’s violent, it won’t last long,” Emory commands.

“I’m not violent. She’s trespassing,” Loki murmurs before his eyes close once more.

“We need to get him to the hospital now,” Emory barks.

Dr. Emory Camden in control.

“No,” Seth interrupts. “We can’t risk taking him to a hospital. We don’t have enough information. Our intel from SIA says no one is chasing him, but I know Loki. He wouldn’t have gone through all these hoops, missed Trevor’s wedding, or Preston almost dying if he didn’t at least believe someone was after him.”

Jesus, it was just a few short weeks ago Preston almost died from a genetic heart condition. It feels like a lifetime ago.

“I agree with Seth,” Ashton says, interrupting my thoughts as he enters the room. “Emory? Can you check him out here if we get you the equipment?”

Ashton is Preston’s youngest brother, and there’s no mistaking the relation. Those Westbrook genes are strong.

“Ash, I … he could have internal bleeding or broken bones. For all I know, he has a collapsed lung, or worse. He needs a proper examination in a hospital.”

“If we get you basic equipment, can you rule out any life-threatening injuries?” Ashton asks again.

In Emory’s silence, Preston asks, “Seth, do you think his life could be in danger if we bring him to the hospital?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, appearing defeated. Seth has been with Loki at SIA for years, so we all wait on his answer. “I just know Loki. He wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if he didn’t have to. He crisscrossed the entire East Coast, leaving us clues. If he believes someone is after him, and it turns out there is, then yes, his life would most definitely be in jeopardy admitting him to a hospital.”

All heads turn to Emory. My poor sister, who just got her medical license back, is being asked to do something that goes against all the ethics she swore to uphold.

Holding her elbows close to her body like her life depends on it, she finally agrees, “I’ll do my best, but if I suspect anything I can’t handle from this bed, he goes to the hospital. That’s my deal, take it or leave it.”

I almost laugh. Emory has always tried to play hardball. If these guys knew her at all, they’d call her bluff, but the only one smiling is her husband, Preston. Good man that he is keeps his mouth shut. He knows she would tend to Loki even if they didn’t meet her demands, but I’m glad when they do.

“Okay, done,” Seth says.