His Every Word Read Online Free PDF Page B

shooting) and asked for them to kindly send all of her and Hunter’s luggage to the Hilton.
    “You can put it on my card,” she told him.
    “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Young,” the concierge replied. “Please do recover swiftly. The city of Los Angeles has you and Mister Reardon in our thoughts and prayers.”
    “How very kind of you to say,” she told him.
    “Your bags will be at your new hotel within the hour.”
    “Thank you again,” she said, as they got off the phone.
    That was a blessing, she thought, because she had no clothes or toiletries and the last thing she wanted to do was wear the same nasty clothes from yesterday all over again.
    After her call, Kallie went and took a nice long shower. Everything ached this morning, she realized. Ached and stung—little pains that she hadn’t felt in the stress and turmoil of the previous day, she now felt acutely.
    The small cuts on her palms from the shattered glass, burned in the heat of the shower’s spray. At the same time, it felt good to stand there in the steam and close her eyes and allow her muscles to relax and unwind slightly. Her neck was so tight, as if someone had turned imaginary screws into her shoulders and made every muscle stand out like a violin string.
    She thought of Hunter as she closed her eyes and felt the heat and the burn on all of her small wounds.
    The image of him lying there in that bed, completely still, his swollen body wrapped as if the hospital was in the process of mummifying him—it was like something out of a horror movie. Hunter was the most vibrant man Kallie had ever met, and now he’d become weak and fragile and cold.
    That maniac had stolen Hunter from her, just when things between them were finally turning into something. Thinking like this made Kallie feel selfish, and she opened her eyes and finished the shower, got out and began drying off.
    It’s not about you anymore, she told herself. It’s not about your disappointment or how your relationship was impacted. It’s about him—it’s about Hunter. He wasn’t thinking about himself when he risked his life to save you.
    She wished that she had even half of his strength. How had he been so strong in that moment—so utterly without fear or hesitation? Even Sean had frozen when confronted with the reality of a truly violent attack.
    But Hunter had been courageous and undaunted by the violent man with the gun.
    When he had needed to act, Hunter had acted without a second thought, and as a result, Kallie was still alive.
    She determined to be more like Hunter—to think less about her own needs and fears and more about what she could do to help him.
    Having this conviction steeled her for the coming day, which she knew would be demanding and frightening. But she would sit by his side in the hospital and she would be there every day, every hour possible, until he was well enough to come home.
    She wore a complimentary bathrobe as she waited for her luggage to arrive.
    About half an hour later, she received a call from the front desk, and they told her that someone would be up momentarily.
    The bellhops were deferential to a fault—as if they were dealing with the First Lady’s things. They couldn’t even meet her gaze, as they unloaded the bags and suitcases one by one and put them in her room.
    She tried to tip them but they adamantly refused. One of them waved his arms with a pained expression. “We can’t take anything from you, Ma’am. Please. Please.
    It’s our pleasure to help.”
    They left and Kallie closed the door, wondering just how far the news of the attack had spread and what they were reporting about it. People’s reactions made it seem as though the entire city of Los Angeles was talking about what had happened—and maybe they were.
    Relieved to finally have her clothes, Kallie put on an understated navy blue dress and the most modest heels she’d taken with her. Of course, she hadn’t planned for anything like this, and so her