Sinful Empire (The Anti-Heroes Collection Book 3)

by Meghan March

  “Magnolia.” Her name bursts from my lips. “Is she . . . Is she . . .” I can’t voice the last word, but I remember her smooth skin and thready pulse under my fingertips.

  My mom’s features tense and her lips wobble. “She’s in a coma, Keira. They don’t know if she’s gonna make it.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “No. No. She can’t— We . . . I need to talk to her. She can’t—”

  “Shhh. It’s okay. We’re praying for her too. The doctors are taking care of her. I’ve checked in on her myself. I knew you’d want me to.”

  I can’t fathom my last words to my best friend being those of anger, regardless of what she did. Conflicting emotions wring tears from my eyes, and I want to beg for someone to tell me where Lachlan is, but I can’t.

  My dad reenters the room with Temperance behind him. Two police officers trail after them.

  “Keira!” Temperance rushes around Dad to reach me first. “Oh, thank God. You’re awake.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell her.

  “For what? This isn’t your fault.”

  That’s where she’s wrong. Even with my battered body and nearly broken brain, I know that this is one hundred percent my fault. Nothing would have happened to Temperance if not for me.

  “Ms. Kilgore, do you think you might be able to answer a few questions for us?”

  “Not right now, gentlemen.” A nurse sweeps in and comes toward me, ready to poke and prod and do whatever it is they’ve been doing for the last couple of days. “You need to let her rest.”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, we need some answers so we can carry on our investigation.”

  Temperance turns toward them. “You don’t think working with the fire department to figure out who started the fire at the rackhouse is enough to keep you busy? Because we sure as hell don’t have any answers to that one yet. Or who clubbed me over the head? You could maybe try to figure that one out.”

  “Ma’am, it’s not our fault your security cameras malfunctioned completely.”

  “What? How?” I ask.

  “Sorry, ma’am. We don’t know,” the officer says. “It’s been ruled as arson, but they’re still working on the motive.”

  “Then you better work on that, because I already told you, we didn’t do it.” Temperance’s tone is bullwhip sharp. “We need every freaking barrel to fill the orders we have. So, if you’re looking for insurance money as a motive, you need to go back to detective school.”

  “We weren’t implying—”

  “Of course you weren’t,” my dad says, interrupting him. “Because no Kilgore or Seven Sinners employee would ever let something happen to that whiskey. It’s our blood. Our heritage. Our legacy.” My dad gives Temperance an approving nod like they’re a team.

  Shafts of guilt stab into me because I know I caused this. Neither of them have a clue. “I’m sorry, Dad—”

  He snaps around to look at me. “This isn’t your fault. Whoever did this is going to pay. We’ll make them pay.”

  I blink as tears burn my eyes once more. The one man who could answer every single one of these questions is gone.

  Was the blonde behind all of it? I remember bits and pieces of her. His destiny. Who was she, though?

  “We’re not trying to suggest that you had something to do with this. We’re just looking for answers the same way you are.”

  “I don’t remember.” Everyone looks at me as the lie leaves my lips. “I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

  My insides are shredding—old loyalties versus new. Regardless of what happened and why, telling the cops isn’t going to help. Justice is delivered differently now. At least, it will be if he ever comes back.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as the same question bounces through my brain like a pinball. Where is he?

  “I’ll leave my card in case you remember anything,” the cop says, and I can’t read his tone.

  Am I a bad liar? Can he tell?

  “We’ll be sure to call, but in the meantime, do your damned jobs.”

  My dad’s farewell sends the officers out of the room as I attempt to piece together the rest of what happened. I open my eyes, fixing my gaze on Temperance. I need to talk to her alone, but I don’t think my mom is going to let that happen.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her.

  My COO nods. “I’m fine. I come from strong stock. It would take more than a whack to the head to end me.”

  “Your brother . . .”

  Her eyes narrow meaningfully. “He’s looking into things.”

  Is that what Lachlan is doing too? Is that why he’s not here?

  Temperance glances down at my naked left hand and then meets my gaze. “Anyone else you want me to call?”

  “Do you have my phone?” Another memory slips into place. I was going to call Lachlan when everything went dark.

  “No. Do you remember where you lost it?”

  The implications of not having a phone have never been quite so dire. Without my phone, I can’t contact my husband. I don’t know his number.

  “The rackhouse. I had it there,” I tell her, panic rising.

  “No one said they found it, but I can call anyone you want.”

  I bite my lip. “I . . . I appreciate the offer. But I really need my phone.”

  Temperance nods, understanding dawning on her features. “I’ll ask the firefighters. Maybe they found it and kept it as evidence, and forgot to mention it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What else can I do?”

  “You can leave her alone to rest,” my dad says, his voice gruff now that he’s chased away two cops. Apparently, his respect for Temperance has worn off quickly.

  “Dad, stop. Temperance is my COO. She’s amazing. Be nice.”

  “COO?” His head jerks toward her. “Thought you were a secretary.”

  “Stop,” I say, my voice weakening. “I can’t handle this right now.”

  “David, I need more coffee,” my mom says.

  “But I just got you—”

  “More. Now.”

  My dad grumbles and turns to leave.

  Mom gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, honey. He’s been worked up.”

  Temperance reaches down and threads her fingers through mine. “Do you want me here, or do you want me to hold down the fort?”

  “You should be home, resting.”

  “Boss, you know me better than that. Besides, I just got knocked on the head. No one put a hole in me. I’m fine.”

  “I’m not asking you to work. No way.”

  She smiles. “You don’t have to. I’d do it anyway. If you need anything at all, call me.”

  As she releases my fingers, I want to beg her to find Lachlan and bring him to me, but I never even told her about him in precise terms. The only person in my world who knows about him is Magnolia, and she’s somewhere in this hospital, in a coma. Because of that crazy blond bitch.

  Who was she? Is that why he’s gone? Did she hurt him? The thought crushes me, sending me mentally stumbling backward. Is he dead?

  No. No. No.

  I refuse to believe that.

  Lachlan Mount is superhuman. Not even a bullet could stop him. It didn’t before.

  Then why isn’t he here? I’m torn between anger and desperation, willing to bargain away my soul just to see his face and make sure he’s okay.

  He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t.

  I’m tiring again, but I have to ask my mom one very important question.

  “Have I had any other visitors, Mom?” When she nods, my heart lifts. “Who?”

  “Pretty much everyone we know in this town has stopped by. Your dad has kept them all in the hall, but it’s been quite the parade.”

  “Anyone . . . anyone you didn’t know?”

  Her brow creases. “What do you mean, honey?”

  I want to ask her so badly, but I can’t. Instead, I take the coward’s way out and close my eyes to feign sleep as m
y heart cracks again.

  Where is he?

  Keira

  “Dance with me, Lachlan. Dance with me in Dublin.”

  His face, normally so stern, has changed tonight. He has changed tonight. When he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd of dancing Irish men and women, a smile turns his mouth into the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell him. I’m drunk and I don’t care.

  “Men aren’t beautiful.”

  “Lies. All lies. Because you are.”

  He spins me as we pretend we know this Irish jig, and brings me back against his hard body. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

  “Fine. But I’m still right.”

  His smile brightens the entire room. I swear it could light a pitch-black sky. He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Not right, but priceless all the same.”

  “Pssh. We both know my price. You found it.” The answer flies from my lips without thought, my filter gone, thanks to the booze.

  He jerks back, staring down at me, all humor gone from his face. “Don’t you say that. Because that is pure bullshit. I couldn’t buy you with every penny I have.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. Whatever you’re thinking, I promise, you’re wrong.”

  I’m thinking that I’m in big trouble because my heart is tumbling out of my control as the man who once terrified me now stares at me with warmth and admiration in his gaze.

  “Careful, Lachlan. You wouldn’t want to get attached to me.”

  His lips lower, stopping a breath from mine. “Too late.”

  I jerk awake, expecting to feel a solid man against me, but he’s not there.

  “Where is he?”

  “Ms. Kilgore, are you okay?” The nurse holding my chart tucks it away and comes toward the bed. She’s blond.

  Instantly I tense. “I’m . . . I’m . . .” I trail off because I have no freaking clue what I am anymore. But okay is not it.

  “Is the pain getting worse?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.” She heads for the IV drip, but I don’t trust her. I don’t trust anyone I’ve seen in this room except Temperance and my parents.

  Where the hell are you, Lachlan? I need you.

  “Mom? Tell her I’m okay. I don’t need more drugs. I can stay awake.” My voice sounds weak, but she’s the only defense I have against this unidentified blond woman.

  My mom jerks awake. “What? What’s going on?”

  “I’m just going to adjust her meds, then take her down for a test.”

  “A test?” My mom sits up straighter in the reclining chair on my right. “What kind of test? What’s wrong?”

  The nurse glances at my mom, and I look around for a weapon. Just in case. The tray from whatever meal I didn’t eat is still on the table beside the bed.

  As the blonde explains about some kind of neuro test, I reach for the butter knife with my free hand and tuck it beneath the sheet. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.

  The metal bites into my palm, and I remember holding on to Magnolia’s silver chopstick I’d had made for her. I was going to stab that blond bitch if she came back. I just can’t remember her face.

  “Everything’s fine, Mrs. Kilgore. I promise this is routine. I’ll have her back here in no time.” The nurse adjusts whatever they’re pumping into me from the pole attached to the bed, and releases the brake.

  “I’ll come with.”

  My mom rises from the chair, and I wonder if her protective instincts are flaring for the same reason as mine. If this is really the crazy bitch, I don’t want my mom anywhere near her. Especially not if I have to stab her with a butter knife.

  “We’ll be right back. There’s no point in you trudging through the halls to wait outside anyway.” As my mom wrestles with this decision, the nurse says, “I swear. She’s going to be fine.”

  The nurse’s placating tone rubs me the wrong way, and I prepare to do battle. I keep quiet, not wanting to give my mom a reason to come along.

  When she finally nods and lowers herself back into the chair, her eyelids droop almost instantly.

  “Mom, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right back. You should sleep.” I don’t believe what I’m saying, but I tell her anyway.

  “Love you, honey.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  She’s already snoring as the nurse wheels me out of sight.

  The hallways of the hospital are quiet, which puts me even more on edge.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just another quick check of your head. You took a hard hit.”

  I almost ask her if she did it, but then I’d lose the element of surprise if it’s really her.

  My paranoia ratchets up the farther we get away from my room and my mom. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. With the butter knife clutched in my hand, I turn my head, ignoring the pounding pain.

  “Who are you, and where the hell are you taking me?”

  She steps forward to punch a round silver disk that activates the double doors, and they swing wide.

  “No need to panic, Keira. I promise, everything’s going to be fine.” She turns me toward an open doorway, and there’s nothing but darkness beyond it.

  “If you try to fucking touch me, I swear to God, I will—”

  She raises a hand in a defensive gesture. “No need to threaten. I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t have a death wish. I’ll give you two a few minutes alone.” She pushes me into the dark room and steps back.

  You two?

  My eyes acclimate to the darkness as her shoes squeak in retreat on the tile floor, and I find his face in the shadows.

  Mount

  Something metallic bounces off the tile as Keira bursts into tears.

  Fucking Christ, her tears kill me.

  “Where have you been?” she asks through a sob as I drop to my knees beside her bed.

  Rivers spill down her cheeks, so many that my thumbs can’t catch the droplets fast enough. She jerks her face out of my hands as her lungs heave.

  I’ve been dying for more than the glimpses I’ve gotten of her for days. I could only see her as they wheeled her in and out of her room for tests, and then I’d lose her again when she was pushed into a room. I cursed the hospital for only having security cameras in the halls.

  “I’ve been watching. You’ve been protected. You’re safe. I swear it.”

  “But where the hell have you been?”

  Guilt claws at my chest at the sound of her ravaged voice. I’ve brought this proud, strong woman to her breaking point. All of this is my fault.

  “I couldn’t be there. Your mom and dad came before you were out of surgery, so I had to stand down. Pretend it wasn’t killing me to wait and find out if you were going to pull through.”

  “But—”

  “When they called your family upstairs, I couldn’t go. I couldn’t explain who the hell I am to any of them. Who the hell I am to you. That I’m part of your fucking family too.” Reliving those moments of helplessness guts me just as badly the second time.

  “So, you left me? Alone? For days? Wondering whether that crazy fucking blond bitch killed you too?”

  I know exactly which crazy fucking blond bitch she’s referring to. “You haven’t been alone. Not for a fucking second, Keira. If you had, I would’ve been in there.”

  “How is it possible that you—Lachlan Mount—with all your unlimited power, couldn’t manage to get me a single sign that you were okay?”

  I blink as it finally occurs to me why she’s so upset. She’s spent this whole time worrying about me too. “I didn’t know you needed a sign.”

  “I’ve been losing my mind, wondering if you were alive! Wondering if I was crazy. Wondering if anything was real.”

  “Keira—”

  Her tears fall faster. “Nothing makes sense anymore. I don’t understand what happened. You have to tell me something. Who was s
he? And Mags—she tried to kill her too. All those women—”

  I cut her off with the press of my fingers to her lips. As much as I want to tell her everything right now, I can’t.

  “Not here. Not now, Keira. Not yet.”

  “When? I need to know.”

  I cup her face, trying once more to catch her tears on my thumbs. “No more tears, hellion. The only thing you need to focus on is getting well. Letting them take care of you.”

  “No! I need answers, and I need my freaking husband.”

  “Keira. I can’t—”

  “Don’t tell me there’s anything you can’t do, Lachlan. Because I won’t believe you.”

  Her conviction rings true, and I wish I deserved it. I don’t deserve that kind of faith from anyone. Especially not now.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. If I could do anything, I’d rewind the clock and undo all of this.”

  Keira

  His words slam into me harder than the bullet in my shoulder, and my stomach twists. “All of it? You . . .” I blink, barely able to see through my tears.

  His face creases with pain that mirrors my own as the door opens and the nurse returns.

  “Do you want me to leave?” she asks, picking up on the tense silence in the room.

  “No. Take her back,” Lachlan says. “I’m sure her family is worrying every second she’s out of their sight.”

  I open my mouth to say something. Anything. But he’s not Lachlan anymore. He’s Mount.

  My lips slam shut, but then I decide fuck it. If this is the last time I ever get to see him, I’m going to tell him exactly what I think and feel.

  “I’m not done here. We’re not done here.”

  He meets my gaze. “I decide when we’re done.”

  My mouth drops open as words so similar to those he spoke that night in his dining room—the first night I left claw marks on his back—fall from his lips.

  I turn my head and look over my shoulder at the nurse. My body twinges, pain fighting through the drugs. “Get out.”

  “Ms. Kilgore—”

  “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”