Girl in the Mist by S. T. Young

Author:S. T. Young [Young, S. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alpha hero, Amara, suspense action stories, romantic thriller, Entangled, sexy thrillers, Latina heroine, Latina romance, multiple personality disorder, Love Stories, Hispanic romance novel, psychological thriller, witness protection, alpha hero romance, Contemporary Romance, romantic suspense, romance novels, woman on the run, woman in jeopardy, romance stories, ex-military hero, sexy suspense stories, contemporary love stories, suspense stories, naval intelligence hero, sexy women’s fiction, contemporary romantic mystery, women’s fiction, protector hero romance, multiple personalities, dissociative identity disorder, Hispanic heroine, sexy romantic suspense, women's action and adventure, suspenseful fiction, bodyguard romance, contemporary romantic suspense novels, woman in jeopardy stories, sexy contemporary romance novels, sensual romantic suspense, thriller novels
ISBN: 1985021102
Amazon: B079LDL521
Publisher: Entangled: Amara
Published: 2018-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-Five

“Nina!” Rory said loudly, grasping her arms.

Alarms went off in his head when she sagged backward, all her strength fading, leaving her limp.

“Nina’s dead.” Her voice a whisper, she turned away. That same instant, her breathing dropped dramatically.

“Jesus Christ!” Rory scrambled quickly to his knees.

Face ashen, pupils dilated, her fathomless eyes stared up at the ceiling. He frantically searched for the pulse in her throat. The beat was weak, and slowing rapidly—as was her breathing.

She lay there, completely unresponsive.

“Dammit, Nina. Wake up!”

Nothing.

Then her pulse ceased entirely.

“Oh, come on!” Impossible! This couldn’t be happening.

He ripped the sheet and blanket away. With shaking hands, he located the spot on her chest to apply CPR.

“Octavia! Joey?” Rory pushed steadily on her chest, over and over, only stopping to check her pulse time and again.

Again, nothing.

“Fuck this!” He jerked the pillow from under her and hurled it aside. Next, he positioned her head and applied resuscitation. Her chest came up once, then inflated once more. “Breathe, damn you!” he shouted.

There was still no reaction. No life. Again, he covered her cold lips and filled her lungs with air.

No change.

Desperate now, he shook her. “Lena! Get your ass out here and breathe, goddammit!” His only hope was calling upon the fiercest of Nina’s personalities in an attempt to bring her back.

Another check of her pulse told him there wasn’t one.

If possible, his dread increased. It almost overpowered him. Her eyes were open, soulless. He gritted his teeth and stubbornly resumed the rhythmic, frantic pressure to her sternum.

“Lena Alvarez, you bitch! I know you’re stronger than this. Wake the hell up!”

She remained utterly still.

Dead? No, he couldn’t, wouldn’t accept that.

“Come on, I thought you were tough! You’re just a goddamn wimp!”

If he hadn’t been utterly focused on her, he would have missed it. A flicker of something—a movement.

Or was it his imagination?

Desperation had him trying again. “Wake up, you little coward! Fight!”

Not enough. It wasn’t enough, damn it.

“You’re all talk, aren’t you? What a fraud! How dare you give up now?”

Time was running out.

With two swift, hard slaps to her cheeks he shouted, “Breathe, damn you!” hoping anger would do the trick.

It did.

Her body shuddered. She violently dragged in air as her hands grabbed hold of his cotton shirt. The powerful grip almost made him topple over.

“What the hell are you doing to me, O’Donnell?” Lena spat, her eyes aflame with undisguised ferocity. Her grip was much stronger than he could have imagined possible after what had just happened.

Incapable of a coherent response, the sheer sense of relief that she was still alive just too big, he could only stare at her and grin like a fool.

He had never been so glad to see the obstreperous alter. Who’d have thought?

She swore, graphically and with passion, as she pushed him backward to sit up. “You damn near broke my ribs with that pounding, you ox! And then you went and slapped me? Son of a bitch!” Too busy glaring at him, she showed no compassion for his shaky equilibrium.

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