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“No, no. She wanted to leave. She was definitely being held against her will. But, ah, the plan we hatched. We had her take a pill, so she’d need a medic.” The raspy voice means bad news. The side of my hand presses hard against my sternum. “She had an adverse reaction to it.”
Oh, god.
“She’s in a medically induced coma.”
“Where are you?”
“In Kuala Lumpur. They’re doing everything they can.”
“What do you mean?” I hate that phrase. “Is she?—”
“They fully expect her to wake.”
“She’s in a coma?”
“Until they stabilize her. When we found her, apparently, she was severely dehydrated and hadn’t been eating. We didn’t factor that possibility in, and…I don’t know. It’s…but she’s going to be okay.”
“Where is she? I need to get there.” Ava stands behind me, arms crossed, listening intently. “Kuala Lumpur? Where is that? How can I get there?”
“We might move her back to the States. We’re still figuring it out. They’d like for her to wake up before they move her.”
“I need to be there. She’ll know I’m there.”
Ava taps me on the shoulder. “We’ll go,” she mouths.
* * *
When I deboard the plane, the first person I see is Knox. He’s got the shortest buzz cut I’ve ever seen, and his overgrown beard is unkempt. Shadows lurk beneath his gold-tinged brown eyes, but he’s safe. And he’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I blink away tears as I throw myself into his arms.
He engulfs me and I breathe him in. He’s okay. He survived. No one got hurt. Sloane’s okay. She’s in the hospital, but she’s okay. She will be okay. They’ve been sending me updates while I was in transit. And I owe it all to this man.
My feet are off the ground as I’m crushed to his chest. And then he’s kissing me like I am his oxygen. As if he missed me as much as I missed him. All that worry I’ve been holding onto evaporates. There’s no worry to weigh us down. Not anymore.
We’re on a tarmac for private planes. The Sullivans pulled out all the stops to get me here as quickly as possible, calling in favors from what I can only imagine are very important people.
A black Mercedes limousine awaits us. The driver wears a suit and tie and a subdued smile that says he shares our joy.
He helps us in the car, and when he’s in the driver’s seat, he tells us, “There’s chilled water for you in the cooler in the cabinet. Based on current traffic conditions, we’re about thirty-five minutes from your destination.”
Knox holds both my hands, and we sit as close as possible on one corner of the spacious back bench seat. Another black leather bench seat faces us and a lacquered wooden cabinet with doors extends like a small table, nested beneath the extended tinted window.
“Thank you,” Knox says.
“Would you like for me to raise the privacy screen?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I watch in awe as the screen rises between us and the driver.
Knox pulls me onto his lap so I straddle him. He fingers my hair, finds the ponytail holder, and my hair tumbles around my shoulders. In turn, I explore his new look. The fine hairs are soft to the touch, and he closes his eyes as if what I’m doing feels good.
“I figured you’d want to go straight to the hospital.”
He’s right. I do. I need to see Sloane. But time is on our side.
“I guess we need to make the best use of these thirty-five minutes, huh?”
His eyes blink open, my words perhaps taking him by surprise, and his smile blinds me.
