Page 27 of No Lies No Promises

“Anyone else up there?” the first one yells behind his mask.

“Two were on the roof. Evacuating by air. The rest? I have no idea.”

“Go. Hurry. We got this.”

Squeezing past them and the medics, I finally reach the sidewalk. Gulping fresh air, I tilt my head back and search the sky, but the helicopter is gone.

My whole life just flew away.

“Dante.” Eyes on the black video feed, I tuck my chin. “Talk. To. Me.”

“Give me a friggin’ moment.” The silence lasts forever.

Finally, he returns. “Relax. They’re landing at Columbia Presbyterian.”

Relief hits so hard my legs give out, and I land on my ass. “Is she hurt?”

“No news yet. Grab a cab. I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything.”

My chest loosens as I end the call. This is exactly why she should not be doing undercover work. After I have her safely in my arms, I’m never letting her go.

End of discussion.

Chapter 14

Lillian

I almost lose my breakfast when Jeff’s helicopter drops to a landing pad on top of a hospital. After the doors open, two orderlies help me onto a gurney. Holding my hair while it whips in the downdraft, I wince. The bump on the back of my head is roughly the size of a potato.

Hurts like hell.

One guy in scrubs leans over me, his mouth moving. No idea what he’s saying. Shouldn’t he know the rotor noise swallows everything? As I ponder this, fluorescent lights replace the blue sky. The hall turns into an elevator, and from there, I’m rolled into an emergency room bay where an admin person asks my name.

Déjà vu. Wasn’t I just here? Or someplace like it?

Too slow to respond, Jeff answers for me. “This is my fiancée, Lillian Fisher. Her purse was lost in the explosion. I’ll cover all expenses.”

Excuse me?

As I yank on the oxygen mask to strongly disagree, a male nurse, who I hadn’t even noticed, slips it back in place.

I pull it down again. “He’s not my—”

“Breathe, Miss. All right?” His green eyes are kind, but he needs to know the score.

Everything is fucked up. And where is Sean? Oh my God, he must be out of his mind with worry.

The necklace cam! Pulling on the chain, I hold it to my face. As best I can, I turn it in a slow circle, stopping when it faces the heart monitor taped to my chest. Hopefully, he’ll be able to read: PROPERTY OF COLUMBIA PRESBYTERIAN.

Assuming the video is still transmitting, he should be able to find me.

My phone? Where’s my phone? It was in my purse. So were my ID, credit cards, insurance card… Crap. I’ll have to replace everything.

Turning my head, I roll onto the bump I got when I fell. The throb is so intense, my stomach acids threaten to hurl.

I must pass out. Why else would a new nurse, thirtyish and female, feel the need to pat my cheeks?

“Miss?” Concerned brown eyes search my face. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?”