by Lorenz Font
Greg kept his eyes closed in an attempt to relax. With all the buzzing conversations around him, it was impossible to find any peace.
His phone rang. Checking the caller ID, he groaned, hesitating before picking up the call. “Trevor, what’s up?”
“I have an interesting turn of events to report.” The PI announced on the other end.
Interesting is a good word to use right now. I could use something to distract me, Greg thought to himself. “Go on.”
“When I called the other night, we’d seen your … um … Mrs. Andrews walk in the restaurant to meet Cade.” At the mention of those two names, Greg’s blood began to boil. “I could tell from their body language that they were arguing, so I went into the restaurant to get closer. I overheard Mrs. Andrews accusing Cade of shooting you.”
Greg shot to his feet. “What else did you hear?”
“Well, it seems Mrs. Andrews produced some pictures. Soon after, Cade ran out of the restaurant. I couldn’t follow right away, for fear of recognition. Your mother called 911, but when the cops came and searched Cade’s place, he’d had a window in which to get away. I don’t think their investigation led them anywhere. He’s still at large, and we’re still trying to track him down.”
“What? So where does this leave us? And where does my mother fit into it?” Greg’s voice rose, and his mind began to race. There were a couple of scenarios running through his head. “Talk about a turn of events.”
“Well, it seems like your mother hired PIs, too. That’s how she found Cade. But now that the authorities are involved, you can expect them to contact you sometime soon. I don’t know if you still want to pursue Cade as planned.”
Muttering a curse under his breath, Greg began to pace, which earned him a few curious glances from the people seated across from him. His mother’s involvement was not part of the plan. What was she up to, anyway? If she was beginning to develop a conscience and had decided to be a mother to him, she was a tad bit late.
He cupped a palm over the phone and kept his voice low. “Keep at him. Let’s talk after a few days, and I’ll decide which direction we’ll take.”
“Sure thing. Anything else?”
“Anything on Cassandra? I’m anxious to close that chapter already.”
“She’s been quiet. My leads are coming up empty, but my gut tells me she’s just waiting for the right time.”
“Then stay on her tail, too.” Greg ended the call with a frustrated sigh.
“Is everything all right?” Simon whispered from behind.
Greg stopped pacing and turned to Simon. He pointed to the door. There were too many curious people surrounding them, which wasn’t good at all. Although it was doubtful that anyone would recognize him as the man shown on TV earlier, he didn’t need to run the risk of being overheard while plotting revenge.
Before they reached the door, a nurse came out of the surgery area and called his name. Greg pushed aside his other concerns and ran to the woman’s side.
“I’m Greg Andrews.”
“Dr. Darnell asked me to tell you that Ms. Jones will be transferred to a suite as you requested. She still cannot have visitors, but Dr. Darnell is willing to make an exception for you.” The nurse offered a tentative smile, and after giving him the room number, proceeded to instruct him where to go.
If it hadn’t been for the adrenaline pumping hard in his veins, Greg knew he’d have collapsed from anxiety by now.
“Go home, Simon, and wait for my call. I don’t think I’ll make it home tonight.” Greg took a deep breath before walking to the elevator. The shadow of exhaustion loomed over him, a vicious reminder of the day he’d had, and an unwelcome portent of the future that loomed ahead.
Sarah had opened her eyes just a fraction when a wrecking ball of pain slammed into her skull with maddening fury. She heard a groan, which sounded distant and yet familiar. When she tried to turn her head, she found it was impossible. Her head appeared to be strapped to something solid and hard.
She closed her eyes, willing her mind to tell her what she’d missed. How on earth had she ended up in this strange-looking place? The beeping sounds of equipment made her think of a hospital, and that idea was the trigger that unleashed a flood of recent memories.
Greg. She stepped into the street. A taxicab barreled in her direction. Her screams before landing on the pavement. She remembered nothing after that. Now, here she was in the hospital room. Everything started to come into focus. Her once-dissociated thought process began piecing information back together.
How badly hurt was she? Unable to move her head to survey the rest of her body, she tried wriggling her toes. It gave her an odd prickling sensation, like her brain had transmitted the order but the receptors were slow to respond. She moved her hands, one at a time. Even if they felt like they weighed a ton, a rush of relief surged through her when they flexed at her command. And she could feel touch, she discovered. A hand gripped hers, and she squeezed it in response.
An overwhelming sense of happiness engulfed her. She could feel. She wasn’t paralyzed as she’d first thought. The exhilarating relief brought tears to her eyes. Before she could blink them back, a rush of emotions consumed her, and she began sobbing uncontrollably.
Sarah held on to the hand in hers like it was her lifeline. She was shaken to the core. Then all of a sudden, Greg was leaning over her.
“You’re awake,” he whispered. His face came closer, and his eyes searched her face. He let out a sigh of relief when she offered a weak nod.
“Yes, I think I am,” she sobbed.
Greg’s expression flitted from surprise to utter happiness in an instant. Then he hugged her, careful not to jostle her and showered her with kisses over every inch of her face.
“God, I thought … I’d lost you.” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been crying. She must’ve given him quite a scare.
“You can’t get rid of me yet.” She smiled despite her tears.
A harsh laugh escaped his lips, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I never want to get rid of you. I want to keep you, if I can. Promise me you’ll be more careful next time.” One tear dropped, and Greg tried to hide his face from her.
Overwhelmed by his display of affection, Sarah reached out to touch his arm. “Greg, don’t turn away. Please look at me.”
He obliged and turned back to her, and she saw the traces of tears on his cheeks. Sarah raised her hand to his face and ever so gently wiped the wetness away. They gazed at each other for a long time before he broke the connection.
“I have to tell the nurse you’re awake.” Greg pressed a button on the bed’s side rail and straightened up.
A female voice came from the bed speaker. “Yes?”
“Miss Jones is awake. Can you call Dr. Darnell and let him know, please?”
“Right away, Mr. Andrews.”
Sarah noticed the dark shadows underneath Greg’s eyes, and then recognized the clothes he’d been wearing before the accident. She frowned. “Greg, how long was I out?”
“About twenty hours. What do you remember?”
He started pacing, wandering out of her line of vision. Judging from the way his shuffling footsteps dragged across the tile flooring, she realized his legs must have been bothering him.
“Some of it. I remembered catching a glimpse of you before the cab hit me. After that, I can’t remember anything.” She lifted her head to follow his movement, but a shooting pain made her sink back down against the pillow. “I can’t see you. Sit next to me.”
This was the best way she could think of to get him off his feet. If she had been unconscious for that many hours, it meant he’d been without sleep for some time. She felt one side of the bed dip, and then his face came back into focus again.
Greg picked up her hand, brought it to his lips, and brushed a featherlight kiss against it. “Do you want something to eat?” His voice trembled.
The door swung open, and a cheerful male voice greeted them. “Wel
l, well, my sleeping beauty is awake. Andrews, no food for the lady yet. Let’s go with clear liquids for the next twenty-four hours.” The newcomer stopped by the bed and leaned forward, giving Sarah a close up of her doctor. He was young, with the swagger of someone who knew his worth. Judging from his teasing tome, he had to be a friend of Greg’s.
Greg coughed and narrowed his eyes, and the doctor laughed. She was sure she was missing something, perhaps an inside joke of some sort.
“I’m Dr. Barry Darnell. This is the part where I tell you how lucky you are that Greg asked for me to perform the surgery.”
Sarah couldn’t help but smile at his easygoing approach. “Is there going to be a part where you’ll tell me I’m screwed?”
“Well … as a matter of fact, yeah. I’ve attached a rod in your back and screwed you back together.” He grinned, looking very mischievous.
Sarah laughed harder than she’d intended and was rewarded with a zinging pain in her head.
“And that would be my cue to call the nurse so you can have a dose of painkillers.”
Greg interrupted. “Darnell, can you turn down the charm a notch and tell Sarah what to expect?”
“God, Gregory, crack a smile, will you?” Barry laughed before he turned his attention back to Sarah. He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips—not what she’d expect a doctor to do, but given her unique situation, nothing surprised her anymore. “You fractured your skull. There was slight swelling earlier, but the last CT scan we took showed improvement. You’ll feel nauseous for the first few days, but after that, I think you’ll be fine. If you experience anything out of the ordinary, please let me know right away.”
“Is walking going to be a problem?”
“Um … let’s see.” He scratched his chin as if in deep thought. “You’re liable to have moments where some parts of your body will feel numb, but that will go away in time. So, if I were you, I’d let this gentleman right here carry you wherever you need to go. I wouldn’t advise hiking or running the marathon for now, though.”
Sarah, in spite of herself, giggled at the doctor’s lighthearted approach to putting her concerns to rest.
Barry’s green eyes sparkled. “There’s also a laceration in the back of your head that is all stitched up. I shaved as little hair as possible, so I’m very happy to say most of your long, silky hair remained intact.”
“You know, if you weren’t such a great surgeon, I would’ve asked for someone else. I don’t like your method of charming your patients,” Greg teased.
Barry chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Greg tells me you’re a medical student at Columbia, Ms. Jones.”
“Well, it looks like this accident is going to set me back a semester. That is, if I can even manage to stay after this.”
That was her greatest concern now. Recovering would mean that she’d have to lose precious time, and there was a possibility that her arrangement with Greg might come to an end, too. Sarah saw Greg stiffen out of the corner of her eye, and he took her hand again. He may have wanted to say something, but he held back for the time being.
“And that’s where I come in again. If you must know, I’m an alumni and a member of the Board of Physicians and Surgeons at Columbia.” Barry paused, waving his hand with a dramatic mock flourish, and smiled. “I can coax your professors into giving you all the lessons to take home until you’re well enough to physically attend class discussions again.”
“You can do that?” Sarah’s breath hitched.
“Of course I can. If my projection for your healing is accurate, it’ll be about two months before you’ll be walking and skipping like Cinderella again. That’s barring any setbacks, of course.”
Sarah released a grateful sigh. “Thank you.”
He winked. “Don’t mention it. I’m always happy to help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on Mrs. Johnson next door. She’s been having Barry withdrawals.”
Greg stood and shook Barry’s hand. “Man, thanks for coming through for me. I owe you more than my life here.”
Sarah couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Tears brimmed in her eyes while she committed the sweet words to memory. She must’ve hit her head harder than she thought. For now, she was content to bask in the warmth and comfort of having Greg close to her.
“Not at all, Andrews.” Barry turned to the door with a wave and paused. “Let me take that back. How about taking me on a hunting trip to Alaska?”
Greg just laughed and shook his head at Barry, who chortled in return before closing the door behind him.
Chapter 14
Later that night while Greg dozed off on the sofa bed across the room from Sarah, the phone rang. Reaching for his cell phone in the darkness, he fumbled several times before he found it.
The number flashing on the caller ID was vaguely familiar. It must have been someone he had called earlier. Answering on the fifth ring, a defensive instinct shot through him at the sound of man’s rough voice. From what little information Trevor had given him about Sarah’s father, Greg gathered that the man they called Ahila was uncompromising and iron-willed. He had the feeling this conversation wouldn’t be a pleasant one.
“Hello.” Greg tried masking the discomfort in his tone.
“You left a message about my daughter. Who are you, and what is she doing there?” The voice was stern, a clear indication the man meant business.
Greg straightened on the sofa. “Yes. My name’s Greg Andrews. I’m the man your daughter saved.”
There was nothing but silence from the other end of the line, so he proceeded to give the information he thought Ahila needed to know. “She’s here in the hospital. She’s doing fine. She had some rod and bolts attached to her spine to help with the—”
“What I want to know is what she’s doing there with you. That child will stop at nothing to pile more shame on this family. I want to talk to her.”
Greg knew he was about to cross a line, but he wasn’t going to hold back now. “Aren’t you even going to ask how your daughter is? Didn’t you hear what I said? She was in an accident. She could’ve died, and all you’re worried about is your goddamn reputation?” His voice rose, and he darted a quick glance at Sarah’s sleeping form in time to see her eyes flutter open.
“My daughter is my concern. Don’t tell me what I should be doing, Mr. Andrews. You’ve done enough damage in our lives. Let me talk to Sarah,” Ahila all but shouted.
“You don’t deserve such a loving and hardworking daughter, you piece of—”
“Greg, what’s going on? Who are you talking to?” Sarah’s sleepy voice stopped him from cursing the old man out.
Just in time, he thought. Greg cupped a palm over the phone and pivoted to face Sarah. He vacillated between lying to her and coming clean about Ahila wanting to speak to her. Somehow he knew this wasn’t the type of situation he could hide from her for long. She was bound to find out, and besides, family dynamics weren’t his forte—his relationship with his own parents was on the verge of falling apart, after all. He just hoped he could prepare her for the tongue-lashing he expected her to receive.
“I have your father on the phone. I had to call to let him know about your accident.”
Despair flitted across Sarah’s face before she reached out her hand. “Let me talk to him.”
Greg walked toward the hospital bed and handed her the phone. He knew he should give her some privacy, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her alone, so he slinked back to the sofa and sat down.
“Papa,” Sarah whispered into the phone.
“I’m not asking you to come back home. I’m telling you to return, but just because you’ve caused enough trouble already.”
Her father’s tone startled her. She had no expectations of him, but the lack of compassion in his voice hit her with startling clarity that his anger hadn’t subsided. It didn’t matter at this point that his daughter had missed death by a narrow margin. Sarah was embarrassed to have expected more t
han what she knew her father believed she deserved.
“I can’t. I’m in no condition to travel.” She choked back the sob, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes.
“I will send someone to get you. You’re not to venture out of this town ever—”
Sarah refused to listen anymore. “Didn’t you hear what I said, Papa? I can’t leave.”
“You’re the one who’s not listening! I want you home where I can keep an eye on you. You must stop this foolishness, Sarah. This rebellious behavior has gone far enough.” Her father’s clear disdain brooked no argument.
She shook her head in defiance even if he had no way of seeing her. “I heard what you said, Papa. Your threats won’t make me come home. I will stay where I’m wanted. Can’t you, for just once in your life, think of me as a person with a mind of her own?” she replied with uncharacteristic boldness. Even though it pained her to talk to her father this way, he needed to hear what she had to say. The angry tears she’d fought to restrain gushed out, and she wiped them away with trembling fingers.
Ahila laughed with scorn. “My daughter, you’re going to regret your decision.”
Sarah’s stomach clenched.
“The day will come when you’ll crawl back here and beg for forgiveness. It’s just a matter of time, mark my words. I’ll be waiting for you.”
His rebuke stung, and Sarah felt like she had lost her father all over again. This conversation had created an even bigger rift between them, far wider than could ever be repaired. She knew she’d regret her decision one day, but she couldn’t think that far ahead. Blinded by her emotions, all she wanted from Ahila was respect for her point of view and her decisions, not to be treated like child who was incapable of deciding for herself.
“I’m sorry, Papa.” She hung up.
Greg walked in her direction with hesitant steps. With the brace wrapped around her neck and body, she couldn’t move or turn her face away, but she didn’t want him to see her anguish. She didn’t want his pity, nor did she want to hear what he had to say.
Sarah closed her eyes and sobbed, breathing through her mouth to keep the nausea at bay. Greg sat on the bed next to her and said nothing. Instead, he held her hand in that comforting way he always did and let her deal with her misery. He offered her the sanctuary of his presence and the comfort of his silence. Gathering her up into his arms, he began to rock her in a gentle rhythm until she yielded to a restless sleep.
