The instant the door closes behind Declan, I push the call button for the nurse.
Sixty seconds later, Nancy arrives, looking like sheâd rather be eating a bowl of razor blades than visiting me.
âHi, Nancy. I apologize for being a witch to you earlier, but Iâm not feeling that great at the moment. Aside from my brain bleeding all over itself, Iâve been kidnapped.â
She blinks. âUhâ¦â
âYou donât have to do anything about it. Iâm not asking for help. I know youâd get into big trouble with the Irish mafia if they found out you called the police, so donât do that, okay? I donât want your entire family getting killed on my behalf.â
âOâ¦kay.â
âGreat. Thanks. So listen, I was wondering if you could tell me what would cause a false-positive pregnancy test?â
After she uncrosses her eyes, she says, âItâs extremely rare for a blood test to return a false-positive.â
âBut if it did, what would cause it?â
She thinks for a moment. âThere are several conditions that raise the level of proteins in the blood. Recent miscarriage or abortion. Ectopic pregnancy, where a fertilized egg implants in the fallopian tubes. Some medications. Certain health conditions.â
âLike what?â
âIâd have to look it up for a complete list, but off the top of my headâ¦kidney disease. Rheumatoid factors. Cancer.â
âWhat kinds of cancer?â
âOvarian, primarily.â
Oh god. Thatâs what my mother died of. A pang of panic makes my heartbeat surge, but I breathe through it. âWhat about exposure to the drug ketamine?â
âThatâs an anesthetic. It wouldnât affect the test results.â
âAnything else you can think of?â
âNo.â
âOkay. Thanks for the info. I appreciate it. Since Iâm here, can we check for tumors on my ovaries? And letâs also do all the other blood tests I need to look for kidney disease and whatever else.â
âWhy donât we do another pregnancy test first?â
âI know Iâm not pregnant.â
I can tell sheâs thinking Iâm in total denial, but she wisely doesnât mention that.
âAll right. Iâll order the tests.â
âThank you.â
She stares at me for a moment, troubled. Pointing her thumb over her shoulder toward the door, she says, âSoâ¦â
âThe head of the Irish mafia kidnapped me. Yeah.â
âButâ¦â
I wave a hand in the air. âIâm fine. Donât worry about me. He got the worse end of the deal. Weâll probably be back here in a week when he has the massive coronary heâs got brewing. Hey, would it be possible for me to get a protein smoothie? Oh, and could I also ask you to please call Lakeside Yoga in Kingâs Beach, Tahoe, and tell them that Sloane has the flu and will be out for a while? If they ask who you are, just say Riley. Thatâs my little sister.â
I smile at her. She blinks a few more times, looking totally confused, before turning and walking out.
I slide down in bed, pull the covers over my face, close my eyes, and start silently repeating positive affirmations.
Iâm not pregnant.
Iâm not pregnant.
Iâm not⦠Wait. Thatâs a negative phrasing, not a positive one. We need to keep it positive. Try again.
I am free from a baby.
I am baby-less.
I am without child.
I am non-pregnant.
I am a total fucking moron.
Groaning, I flip the covers off my face and stare at the ceiling. I spend a while counting the cracks in the ceiling tiles, until I realize this is the perfect scenario for Declan to unburden himself of me.
He doesnât have to take me back to New York where he snatched me from. He doesnât have to make arrangements for travel or avoiding whoever might be trying to rescue me. He could simply leave me in the hospital and walk out.
Like he did only minutes ago.
Right after Nancy announced I was pregnant.
My heart starts to pound. My mouth goes dry. Thereâs an awful tightness in the pit of my stomach.
Okay, what is this feeling? Letâs name this feeling to diffuse its power.
Right now, Iâm feelingâ¦strange.
Too vague. Try again.
Iâm feelingâ¦unwell.
Could be that blood clot in your head. Letâs talk about your emotional state, not your physical one, Sloane.
I hate it when you get snippy with me.
And I hate it when you talk back to your inner voices like youâre a crazy person. WHAT ARE YOU FEELING?
Aloud, I blurt, âHurt.â
As soon as I say it, I know itâs true. Then the disbelief comes.
Iâve lost my mind. My feelings are hurt because my kidnapper left when he heard about the baby.
The non-baby that I am definitely not having.
I leap from bed, run to the door, and yank it open. I donât know what I had planned, Iâm acting on sheer instinct, but as soon as the door flies open, four huge men in black suits jump from their places flanking either side of the door to create an impenetrable bristling gangster wall in front of me.
One of them is Kieran.
Why seeing him causes such relief to flood my body, I donât want to know.
He takes one look at my face and slams into scary high-alert mode. Yanking a gun from his waistband, he peers behind me into the room, hackles raised and growling.
âWhatâs the craic? Are ye all right, lass?â
âYes, Iâm all right. I justâ¦um. I wasâ¦thirsty.â
Kieran relaxes his shoulders and exhales a breath. Then he turns to the man beside him.
âGo fetch a wee glass of water for the lass, and be quick about it.â He puts the gun back into its holster and turns to me, smiling. âBoyâs a dear, you had me soilinâ my kex with that puss of yours.â
I donât think Iâll ever understand a word the man says, but I know on a cellular level that he was worried about me, that he was ready to shoot any intruder who might be in my room, and that Declan not only hasnât abandoned me in this hospital, heâs left me with my own personal protection unit in his absence.
I refuse to name this feeling. It might be the final straw that breaks my brain.
âBest get back in bed, lass,â says Kieran with a chin jerk. âDeclanâll go mad as a box of frogs if he finds ye worse off when he gets back.â
Instead of answering, I give Kieran a hug.
When I release him, everyone is staring wide-eyed at me like I farted in church.
I say sincerely, âThank you, Kieran. And all you guys, too. I feel so much better knowing youâre out here. I really appreciate you watching out for me. Iâm sure thereâs probably lots of other stuff youâd all rather be doingâ¦â
I inhale an unsteady breath. No one says anything. The gangster who Kieran sent to get the water returns and hands me a paper cup.
I stare at it in my hand, surprised to see it shaking.
âIn ye go now, lass,â says Kieran gently. âRest, aye?â
âOkay. Aye.â
He winks at me. For some bizarre reason, it makes me emotional.
Looking at my bodyguards, I say in a strangled voice, âI just want you all to know that I think Irish gangsters are much cooler than Russian ones. Except for Declan. But you guys are just the best.â
I go inside, close the door, chug the water, then lie facedown on the bed, breathing deeply into the pillow until Nancy arrives again.
âIf itâs all right with you, Iâll draw more blood now so we can get those tests going, then we can head over to Radiology to get an ultrasound to look inside your uterus and ovaries.â
âBrilliant. Letâs do this.â
I sit quietly while she draws six small vials of blood. It seems like an awful lot, but I donât mention it. âHow long until we get the blood test results back?â
âFor you, about an hour.â
Iâm getting pushed to the head of the line. No doubt thanks to her terror of Declan annihilating her entire family tree. âI appreciate it. Thank you, Nancy.â
She pauses what sheâs doing to glance up at me. Sending a furtive look toward the door, she murmurs, âAre you sure youâre okay?â
âOf course. Being kidnapped isnât the worst thing Iâve been through. And theyâre only men. Itâs not like theyâre hard to handle. Iâve known Chihuahuas who were way scarier.â
âI havenât. Those guys are terrifying. And their bossâ¦â She shudders.
Curiosity rears its ugly head. âHave you lived in Boston your whole life?â
She nods.
âSo the Irish mafia here is pretty powerful, huh?â
âThey run the city. Itâs been that way as long as I can remember. Even the cops are on their payroll.â
I can tell sheâs warming up to me, so I make a small, encouraging noise to indicate Iâm listening.
âI mean, weâve got the Italians, too. And the Russians. And lots of others, but the Irish have a stronger presence in Boston than in any other city in America. Things used to be more stable, but over the past few years, turf wars have broken out. The top Mob bosses keep getting killed. There was a murder just this week, as a matter of fact.â
âI heard about that. Diego, was it?â
âYes.â
âStrange name for an Irishman.â
âOh, he wasnât Irish. He was Mexican-American. It was all over the streets when his boss got shot and he took over. They said it was a sign of the times, a Latino guy taking the helm. The Mob going more international or whatever.â
The Russians had an ethnic Ukrainian as their last leader, so I guess itâs not so odd that the Irish would have a Mexican-American. âSo what happened to this Diego?â
âThe papers said his body was found at the dump. They still havenât found his head.â
How gruesome. I wonder how close he and Declan were? âDo they have any idea who did it?â
She gives me a look. âIt wasnât one of his friends, thatâs for sure.â
Of course. It was one of his enemies. Like maybe the Italians.
Or the Russians.
Or Kage.
No wonder Declan looks at me with so muchâ¦whatever it is. Iâm Natalieâs best friend. I said I was friends with Kage. I dated Stavros. Even if he admits I didnât start a war, he still thinks Iâm his enemy.
An enemy heâs going to an awful lot of trouble to protect.
The question is: why?
âExcuse me?â
Startled from my thoughts, I realize I spoke that last part out loud. âNothing. Sorry. Iâm just all up in my head. Things are a bit complicated at the moment.â
Nancy sidesteps that minefield and says sheâll get me a wheelchair for our trip to Radiology, which is on the second floor.
âDo I look that bad?â
âNo.â She pauses. âBut⦠â She clears her throat. âIf you were to fall and hurt yourself, Iâd have to explain to Mr. OâDonnell how I let that happen. And he left rather specific instructions that you were to be well taken care of.â She pauses again. âTo be perfectly honest, he told Dr. Callahan that if you died, he would, too. Iâm guessing the same standard applies to me.â
Declan threatened the doctorâs life? I canât decide if thatâs awful or sweet.
âGotcha. No worries. Heâs not going to kill anyone. He just likes to throw that around to scare people.â
Nancy looks doubtful. âI donât mean to contradict you, but he didnât earn his position with Boy Scout badges.â
She leaves me to mull that over while she gets the wheelchair. When she returns, Kieran is all in a huff.
âWhatâs this, then?â he growls, crowding in the door with the rest of the gang. He eyes the wheelchair suspiciously, like itâs wired with explosives.
âIâm going down to the radiation department to get more tests.â
His brows draw together. He doesnât like the idea. âDeclan said nothinâ about lettinâ ye outta the room.â
âWhy donât you come with? Weâll make it a field trip.â
âOr ye can just wait till he gets back.â
To ask permission, he means. As if.
I say blithely, âOh, Iâll leave it up to you. He said he wanted me to get all the tests I needed done as soon as possible to make sure this brain bleed thing isnât going to kill me, but if you think itâs best for me not to, thatâs fine.â
I wait, smiling expectantly.
Two minutes later, all six of us are crowded into the hospital elevator, headed down.
When the doors open on the second floor, Kieran and his men exit first, weapons drawn. They conduct a sweep of the corridor before they let Nancy and me off the elevator. Then they walk on either side of us like the presidentâs personal field agents, glaring daggers at anyone who dares to look our way.
I hate to admit I love the drama of it. I feel like a celebrity. Itâs a good thing Iâm not, because Iâd be a horrible diva. Two flights on a private jetâone of them while in captivityâand I donât think Iâll ever be able to fly economy again.
The ultrasound goes without a hitch. There are no tumors or cysts on my ovaries, and my uterus is as barren as the Sahara. I leave smiling.
The smiling ends when weâre back in my room and Nancy tells me the results of the blood tests.