Читать книгу To Catch A Thief - Nan Dixon - Страница 13
ОглавлениеCAROLINA GRIPPED HER mother’s hand as they waited for Mamá’s oncologist. Her fear of losing her mother was back. Mamá had had a CAT scan yesterday and they were here to review the results.
Were these the same miserable chairs they’d sat in ten years ago? Carolina had been fifteen and she’d focused all her energy on helping her mother through radiation and chemo to fight her breast cancer.
It’d been a week since she’d arrived and they were fighting the same ten-year-old battle. Maybe after Mamá received treatment, Carolina would return to Nashville and resurrect her career. Maybe Mamá could come live with her.
“Rosa. Carolina. Good to see you.” Dr. Laster, her mother’s oncologist, entered the room. “Rosa, you have some choices to make.”
Apparently, Dr. Laster was still as straightforward as Carolina remembered. The doctor turned a computer screen toward them and moved around the desk to stand between her and Mamá. “You have tumors in your brain, here and here. And a new one since your scan a month ago.”
“Wait. A month ago?” Carolina asked. When her mother had called, she’d sounded like she’d just gotten the news.
Dr. Laster nodded.
“Mamá. Why are you only discussing treatment options now?”
“I took that cruise with the law firm.” Her mother waved her hand. “I didn’t want to look hideous.”
“But your health?” Carolina couldn’t believe this.
Dr. Laster squeezed Carolina’s shoulder and shook her head.
“They were just headaches. I’ve had them for months.” Her mother pushed back her hair. “Dr. Laster will make the tumors go away.”
“Rosa, I told you—” Dr. Laster took her mother’s hand “—your prognosis, even with treatment, is less than a year.”
Less than a year? Tears slipped down Carolina’s cheeks. She’d thought Mamá would be treated and survive. How could she lose her beautiful, flighty mother?
“Don’t cry, darling.” Her mother smiled. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
They laughed. Carolina’s chortle a little more watery than her mother’s or the doctor’s.
“This time is different.” Dr. Laster took Carolina’s hand, sympathy filling her eyes. “Rosa, I need to confirm that Carolina is authorized to discuss your medical care and condition with your care providers.”
“Yes. Yes.” Rosa waved her hand.
“As I said before, please work with a lawyer and create your health directives. It’s time to get your affairs in order so you don’t have to worry in the next few months.”
Health directives. Affairs. Next few months. Carolina’s head swam.
“How I wish for an affair,” her mother sighed. “But I only loved Carolina’s daddy. He’s been dead twenty years.”
Her mother sounded like she’d abstained from sex for twenty years, but that hadn’t been the case.
Carolina choked out, “What are the next steps?”
“Whole brain radiation therapy. Two weeks. This will keep you comfortable, Rosa.”
“Comfortable?” Carolina’s hands trembled. “Won’t radiation eliminate the tumors?”
Dr. Laster settled into the chair next to her mother. “If you’re lucky. But waiting has—hurt. I wish you’d come in months ago when you started having the headaches.”
Her mother waved her hand. “I know you’ll fix me.”
Her mother had ignored headaches and put off therapy for a cruise. Carolina tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was stuck.
Dr. Laster took them through the next steps. Her assistant booked appointments. Preliminary visits. Follow-up visits. Consults. Carolina wrote them down because her mother wasn’t paying attention.
When it was time to go, Carolina gathered her purse and her mother’s. Mamá left the room first.
Dr. Laster put a hand on Carolina’s arm. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your mother, but her behavior may become erratic. It’s important to make sure you have authority over her care.”
“It’s already erratic.” Since she’d arrived, Carolina had noted Mamá’s mood swings. They were more than her mother’s normal flightiness. “When the headaches hit, they’re bad.”
“Keep using her medication. Try massage if it gives her relief.” Dr. Laster handed her pamphlets and a business card. “Call me anytime. And use the nurse line, too.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry to be seeing you again.” Dr. Laster gave her a one-armed hug. “I’ll make Rosa as comfortable as possible in the time she has remaining.”
Time remaining. Each phrase struck blows at her heart. “Thank you.”
She hurried into the waiting room. Her mother stared at the fish in the fish tank. “I want an aquarium.” Mamá pointed a finger at an angel fish and laughed. “I need angels watching over me.”
Carolina wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder. “Where would we put it?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
Carolina guided her to the car. Hopefully, Mamá would forget the aquarium. Her mother had had a lot of crazy ideas lately. Most of them forgotten.
She needed to talk to her mother’s attorney. Fast.
She wasn’t returning to Nashville. She was here for the duration. For Mamá.
* * *
SAGE TUCKED THE thin blanket around his waist. There was nothing heroic about lying in bed with a bare ass while his boss visited. At least the catheter was gone.
Agent-in-Charge Margaret Mason sat next to Sage’s hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” Heat spread across his face. Great, now he was blushing.
She raised an eyebrow. “I was told you were having dizzy spells and headaches.”
How could he answer? “I am. They’re...better.”
“The good news is that the bust you were on netted us the next distributors up the line.”
“Good.” He nodded. Then had to cover the wince.
“The bad news.” Margaret tapped her finger on the mattress. “Kaden says you rushed in without waiting.”
“I still don’t remember him telling me to wait.” But some of his memory had returned. “Since our intel was faulty, it seemed prudent to assess the situation. We didn’t know there was a third man or a dog.”
Margaret’s eyebrow crept a little higher. “And if you’d stayed back as instructed, I might not be visiting you in the hospital.”
He swallowed. “If there hadn’t been a dog, they wouldn’t have known I was under the window.”
She nodded. “But it was unusual we had this much information. Sage, you need to listen to your partner.”
“I... I will.” Was his job on the line? Sweat raced down his spine. He was worthless without his job.
“I understand the doctor hasn’t cleared you for duty,” Margaret said.
“I’m hoping to change his mind.” Bile crept into his throat. He couldn’t spew in front of a superior. “I’m being released tomorrow.”
“That’s good news.” Margaret stood. “I want you back on the job.”
He relaxed. “That’s what I want, too.”
How else could Sage live up to his family’s code of honor? Sitting around, seeing if his vision cleared and his head stopped hurting wasn’t their way. From his father who was a Medal of Honor recipient, to his oldest brother, the fireman, who ran into burning buildings, and his other brother who was a rescue diver in the Coast Guard, he needed to make them proud.
Margaret pointed a finger at him. “Heal and follow doctor’s orders.”
“Will do.” When the door closed behind her, Sage exhaled. That ordeal was over.
Getting to his feet was iffy. This morning he’d almost taken a header just getting to the john. Second time should be easier.
He threw off the blanket, eased his legs over the side and stood. The world wobbled. He hung on, not caring that his ass was flying free. Scooting around the foot of the bed—next time he would exit the other side—he lurched to the wall, collapsing and catching his breath.
In the bathroom, he did what he needed and clutched the door and then the door frame. It was four or five steps to the bed. Easy. His head swam with each step. The last step was more a stumble. He face-planted at the foot of the bed.
Clapping came from the doorway. “Bravo.”
He tugged on the stupid gown and covered his ass. “Shut up, Farrell.”
Kaden walked into the room. “And they’re letting you go tomorrow?”
“Finally.” He wiggled to the head of the bed and flipped over, his ribs screaming in agony. “Can’t wait.”
“Who’s taking care of you?”
“I don’t need anyone.” Sage pointed a finger at Kaden. “But someone called my mom. She’s on her way.”
“You were unconscious. I did what I had to do.”
“But...” He didn’t want his mother to see him like this. She’d report back to his brothers and they’d be...ashamed.
“You can stay with me and Courtney,” Kaden suggested.
“Right.” Sage snorted. “Awkward.”
Kaden grinned. “We have this great pink princess bedroom you could sleep in.”
Sage wasn’t going to ask why Kaden was living somewhere with a princess bedroom. He changed the subject. “Margaret was here and on my case.”
Kaden took over the chair where Margaret had sat. “I told you to wait.”
Sage started to shake his head but caught himself. He was learning. “I remember needing to know how many people were in the house.”
There was a commotion outside his door, but Sage didn’t twist his head. He didn’t need the pain.
“That’s why I didn’t make a bigger deal out of you not waiting.” Kaden leaned forward. “But if you had, you might not be lying in this hospital bed.”
“Did you charge in again, little brother?” a voice called from the open doorway.
Sage slowly turned toward it. Damn it. “Jackson.”
His brother dropped a duffel bag and caught his hand, giving him a one-armed hug. “Glad to see you’re alive.”
“I...”
His mom wheeled in a suitcase right behind his brother.
She cupped his shoulders. “Sage. My baby.” Her hug ignited another pounding headache.
“Mom.” He swallowed back the burn of bile in his throat. He would not throw up.
Kaden let his mother take the chair next to the bed.
“Mom, Jackson, that’s Kaden Farrell.”
Kaden and Sage’s brother shook hands, but his Mom went in for a hug. “Thank you for calling.”
“No problem.” Kaden headed to the door. “I’ll stay in touch.”
Jackson pulled up a second chair. It screeched against the linoleum. “What’s this about you not waiting for your team?”
He was not going to review his errors with his brother. “I can’t remember much.”
“Another concussion? Your poor brain.” His mother pushed back her hair. A little more silver gleamed through the brown strands than when he’d been home at Christmas, but she was still a striking woman. With her trim figure from working the ranch and her bright green eyes, too many cowboys came sniffing around.
“We got a lot of drugs off the street.” Sage inhaled, trying to keep his lunch down.
“But you were shot.” Jackson frowned. “That seems like a failed op to me.”
Sage touched the bandage on the left side of his head. “We got intel on the next level up.”
“I would have thought your run-in with that bull would’ve stopped you from taking stupid risks.” Jackson leaned back in the chair and crossed his leg over his knee. His boot kicked the side of the bed. “When are you going to learn to stop rushing in by yourself?”
The kick on the bed jarred Sage’s head enough to have tears fill his eyes. Not that he would let his mom and brother notice. “You and Bart were egging me on.”
“Stop taunting him, Jax.” His mother glared at his brother. “I can still make you clean the barn.”
They laughed, but Sage’s was forced.
“After you were gored, Bart and I had to take your chores for months,” Jackson said.
“Because you encouraged your younger brother to do something stupid,” Mom squeezed Sage’s hand. “How are you?”
“Healing.” At least he hoped so.
“But your head hurts,” she said.
“Yeah.” He wanted to push the call button and get something for the pain, but he couldn’t do that around Jax. He already looked like a fool, lying there injured. “I thought only you were coming, Mom.”
“I wanted to see you.” Jackson’s feet dropped to the floor and he waved a hand over Sage in the hospital bed. “But not like this.”
Of course not. Sage wasn’t living up to the Cornell legacy. Why would his mother and brother even want to be here and see his failure?
His brother had the same deep green eyes and straight nose as their father. But Jackson was thirty-four. Their dad had died in Somalia at thirty-three—saving his squad by throwing his body on a grenade.
Mom and Jackson caught him up on the family and the goings-on at the ranch. But his eyes kept closing and his stomach churned.
“You rest.” Mom touched his hand.
He told them where to find his keys and the security card for his condo.
“We’ll see you in the morning.” His mother brushed a kiss on his cheek.
He sat up once too often and lost the battle with his stomach. Thank goodness his brother and mother had left before he grabbed the plastic bowl and threw up.
* * *
“MAMÁ, HOW COULD YOU?” Carolina stared at her mother’s checking account balance and then at her outstanding credit cards bills and the overdue lease payments on the BMW. Over the last three days, she’d worked her way through Mamá’s unopened mail, all of it unpaid bills.
Her mother’s small disability check wouldn’t make a dent in the balances. At least Mamá’s attorney was her ex-boss. He wasn’t charging anything for the legal documents he’d prepared.
“We should go to a spa.” Rosa swirled around the corner, the skirt of her pink sundress dancing around her knees. It was the perfect color against her olive skin and black hair.
“We can’t afford a spa.” Carolina waved her hands at the bills spread on the dining room table.
“Oh, pfft. Of course we can.”
She had to stop her mother’s spending. “Let’s go to the shore and hunt for seashells.”
Her mother pouted. “I...”
“Everyone who sees you will be jealous of this gorgeous dress.” Carolina caught Mamá’s arm. “Come on. It will be just like when I was young. We always walked the beach on Sunday.”
They were out the door and heading to the ocean before her mother could complain.
“I love this dress.” Mamá swung the full skirt. “Your father and I used to take you to the beach. I think he liked to see me in a bikini.”
“Of course, he did.” She always agreed whenever Mamá brought up her father. Otherwise an argument ensued.
“He was so handsome.” Mamá swayed like she was waltzing. “But his bitch of a wife wouldn’t give him a divorce. Beau wanted to be with us, but she kept us apart.”
“Mmm-hmm.” For years, Carolina had believed her mother. But now—she didn’t know. Carolina was the product of an affair between Mamá and a married man. She barely remembered her father.
At the end of the walkway her mother kicked off her sandals, not bothering to pick them up. By the time Carolina slipped off her flip-flops and picked up their shoes, Mamá was splashing in the waves.
Wouldn’t it be nice if her Mamá’s tumors had made her more responsible and not less?
“Don’t look sad.” Her mother ran back and caught her hand, tugging her along the beach. “Life’s too short.”
They took a half hour, until Rosa tired. “Let’s have ice cream. Your father always bought me ice cream.”
Instead of agreeing, Carolina redirected. “How did you meet Daddy?”
Rosa turned in a circle, the pink skirt and her long curly hair winging around her. “He was building condos and apartments.” She waved her hand toward the bay. “They were going to be glorious. And expensive. He would have been rich.”
The bay condos had sat unfinished for years. Someone else had finally bought and completed them. “But how did you meet?”
“I was singing at a club here on the island. It’s closed now.” She hummed. “He drank bourbon and watched me. Those eyes.”
Married man on the prowl. How many times had Carolina been propositioned while she’d bartended or sang? Scum.
“When you met him...did you know he was married?” She’d never asked that question before.
Mamá sighed. “He didn’t wear a ring.”
And Rosa had thought he was rich. “When you told him you were pregnant, did he want me?”
Her mother’s lips pinched together. “He was Catholic. He should never have suggested...what he did. And he accused me—”
“Of what?” Trying to trap him? Carolina had heard an argument between Yaya and her mother once—something about how foolish her mother had been to think she could trap a man into marriage. Had that been what Yaya meant?
“That’s when he told me he was married. All his excuses on why he couldn’t spend time with me finally made sense. Excuses.” Mamá waved her hand like she was erasing a chalkboard. “It doesn’t matter.”
But it had mattered. Carolina had always been isolated. As a child, Mamá had forbidden her to talk about her father. At least no one had ever called her a bastard. No one knew.
“I miss my Beau.” Mamá’s steps slowed. The lines around her mouth deepened.
Carolina shouldn’t have brought up Daddy. Shouldn’t have asked questions. She knew better. Knew depression clung to her mother like a shadow. Her father hadn’t cared enough to take care of his other family.
They headed up the steps, Carolina taking Mamá’s elbow as she shuffled and almost lost her balance. Inside, Mamá collapsed on the sofa.
“Do you want anything?” Carolina asked.
“Could you get me a pill and then rub my head?” Her mother’s voice cracked with the pain.
“Of course.” After getting the pill and a glass of milk, Carolina said, “Let me know if I hurt you.”
She stood behind the sofa and kneaded her mother’s shoulders. Each day Mama’s skin changed. Her muscles were losing their bulk. Carolina didn’t press hard, just kept working them until they softened. Moving up, she pressed her thumbs into the base of her neck and worked on the taut tendons.
“Oh...oh...” her mother groaned.
Carolina ripped her hands away. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. That’s...good.”
She worked her thumbs through her mother’s gorgeous thick hair. Would it fall out when the treatments started?
Carolina ended the massage by working her mother’s temples. Again, she dug in her thumbs and listened to Mamá’s groans. But this time she could tell it was from relief.
“Better?” Carolina asked.
“Yes.”
Carolina helped her mother stack pillows and settle on the sofa. Even after walking in the sunshine, there was a grayish cast to her mother’s skin. “Get some rest.”
“I will.” And she dropped off.
Carolina waited. Planned dinner. Worked on her to-do list. Then while Mamá slept, she headed to her mother’s bedroom and searched through the bags scattered on the floor. Jackpot. The bags still held the receipts and most of the clothes still had their tags.
She took the bags to her car and called the attorney. “Can I return clothes my mother bought?”
“You have power of attorney now. It shouldn’t matter if you put the credit back on your mother’s card.”
“Good.” She would find time tomorrow to take the things back, using the ruse of going to the grocery store.
The credit wouldn’t solve the debt her mother had accumulated, but it would help. Then she would call the leasing company to turn in the car.
Time to search for a job. She opened her laptop. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could find a weekend singing gig?
There were none around.
So she searched for waitressing and bartending jobs. And found a few. Only a couple on Tybee, everything else was in Savannah.
She opened job postings. There was one for a part-time bartender. At Southern Comforts, a new restaurant. Perfect. She clicked it open and read the listing. “Weekend hours. Possibility for more. Savannah.”
She winced, hating to leave her mother for that long. She scrolled to the bottom. “Apply at Fitzgerald House with Abby Fitzgerald.”
She shivered, suddenly freezing. Fitzgeralds. Her father’s real family. The ones who’d ruined her mother’s life. Her half sisters.
“What are you doing?” Rosa peered over her shoulder.
“I didn’t hear you wake. Are you hungry?” Carolina tried to close the screen.
Mamá held out her hand. “What are you doing looking at that family’s website?”
“I was looking for part-time work.” Trying to figure out how to pay off Mamá’s debts.
“Not with those bitches.” Mamá pointed a finger at the screen. “Work for anyone but them.”
Carolina patted her mother’s hand. “I know.”
Rosa sank into the dining room chair, holding her head. “Could you make me some tea?”
“Sure.”
Carolina would apply for the waitress and bartending positions listed on Tybee Island. She pulled out the tea a nurse recommended for Mamá’s headaches, making two mugs. She’d had a headache since she’d added up Mamá’s bills.
“Shall we take this to the porch?” she asked.
Her mother stared at the job posting on Carolina’s laptop, her nails clicking against the wooden table. “Maybe. Maybe.”
Carolina headed to the porch, wishing she’d shut the computer before she’d fixed her mother’s tea. Even talking about the Fitzgeralds made her mother rant.
“I was thinking we could have fish tacos tonight.” Carolina pushed open the door.
Her mother stared at the screen.
“Mamá?”
Her mother’s head jerked. “What?”
“I thought we’d have our tea out on the porch.”
Her mother’s eyes didn’t focus as she walked outside. She sat in a chair and Carolina took the rocker.
“I think you should do it,” Mamá blurted out.
“Do what?”
“Apply for the job with the bitches.”
Carolina choked on her tea. “I don’t want to meet them.”
Her half sisters wallowed in wealth while she and Mamá struggled to survive.
Her mother’s dark eyebrows came together. “I want to know what they’re up to. I want you to see the birthright they kept from you.”
Carolina clenched her fists. “I don’t.”
Her mother bounced out of her chair. “You could be a...a spy.”
Was this her mother’s obsession with the Fitzgeralds talking or her brain tumors? Every muscle in Carolina’s body tensed. “I don’t want to spy.”
“It would be for me. For your mother.” She clasped her hands against her chest and swayed. “For all the things I couldn’t give you. You deserve this. We deserve this.”
“Mamá, sit.” Carolina eased her back into a chair. “I need a job closer to home.”
Maybe if Carolina never brought up the job again, her mother would forget.
Please let Mamá forget.
* * *
“MOM, I’LL BE all right.” Sage said for the tenth time that morning. He sat at the kitchen table and sipped his coffee. He sure would miss Mom’s coffee, but he hated having her hover.
“You’re still as rocky on your feet as a newborn calf.” She brushed back his hair. “I wish Jackson could have stayed longer.”
Sage didn’t. Jax had stayed for three days, his presence a constant reminder Sage had screwed up. Not that Jax or Mom ever said anything. It was their looks of concern and disappointment. He’d failed to live up to the Cornell image. Honor before everything. “Jackson had to get back to saving lives.”
Mom crossed her arms, staring down at him. “Your head still aches.”
“I’ll handle it. You’ve been here a week. Go home to the ranch.” He wanted quiet. He hadn’t had true peace since he’d awakened in the hospital.
He liked people, he really did, but he needed space. And he wanted to get back to work. “I’m okay. Besides, the ranch needs you.”
“Uncle Dale is running the ranch.” His mother frowned.
“He’s almost eighty.”
“And sharp as a tack.” She pointed a finger at him. “Managing the ranch makes him feel useful.”
“I’ll be fine.” Another headache brewed, but he couldn’t tell his mom. She’d cancel her flight and stay another week. His River Street warehouse condominium was too small for the two of them.
“Then you’d better answer my calls. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be back.” His mother softened the order with a kiss on his cheek. “I worry about my baby.”
“I’m twenty-nine.” He grinned. “I don’t need burping.”
“Ha ha.” She sat next to him and squeezed his hand. “I worry about all my boys.”
“Why would you need to worry about Jax and Bart?” They were heroes.
“Because they’re my sons.”
“But every breath they take honors Dad.”
Mom closed her eyes and shook her head. “I know you idolize your brothers and father, but...they’re still mortal.”
Cornell men were supposed to be more. Sage needed to live a life so heroic, his father and brothers would be proud of him. It was all he wanted in life. “You raised two very special men.”
“Three.” She cupped his cheek and stared him in the eyes.
He tried not to blink, not wanting her to examine his soul.
He was the weakest Cornell. Would his father have let a dog keep him from his mission? Would his brothers have ended up wounded, suffering massive headaches and dizzy spells?
No. Because that wasn’t the Cornell way.
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
“If you have problems, you’ll call?” his mother asked.
He made a cross over his heart. “Absolutely.”
She listed the food she’d made and frozen. Then attached the list with the cooking directions to the freezer. “I popped over to the store, so you’re good for milk and other staples.”
“Thank you.”
She checked the time. “Cab should be here in a few minutes.”
He started to stand.
“You stay here.” She rolled her bag to the door.
“I’ll walk you down.” He tried to keep the growl from his voice. “You’re my mother. I want to know that you’re safe.”
“You are your father’s son.” She sighed. “Come on.”
They took the freight elevator to the main floor. He’d never noticed how much it rocked. He leaned into the corner so his mother didn’t see him wobble.
Keeping a hand on the wall for support, he led her to the entry. When had they put a bench outside the building? Excellent. He sat and waited with his mother. “Thank you for coming. For making all that food. For just being—you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s what a mother does.”
When the cab pulled up, he pushed off the bench and opened the door. Luckily, the driver loaded the luggage. He wasn’t sure he could lift her case. “Safe travels. I love you. Say hello to Jax and Bart.”
“I will. Love you to the moon and back,” she whispered.
Sage chuckled as the cab pulled away. He tipped his head and the sun shot into his eyes.
Mistake. Pain stabbed his brain. His eyes watered but he refused to let the tears drop. He was a Cornell. Stumbling to the bench, he collapsed.
He had to gather his strength before conquering the trip back to his condo. He took in a deep breath. Another mistake. His cracked ribs ached from the damn mastiff. That pain took a back seat to his blooming headache. Apparently hitting the cement foundation of the house and taking a bullet hadn’t knocked sense into him; it had knocked something loose.
He closed his eyes and leaned against the brick wall, listening. The Savannah River lapped the seawall next to the condo. Pedestrians filled River Street. The sounds of conversations and laughter washed over him.
“You all right?”
Damn. Sage jerked and the headache that had eased roared back. He’d actually fallen asleep. He opened his eyes. “Kaden? What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.” Kaden crossed his arms and his gaze took in too much. “Are you okay?”
“I...just saw my mother off.”
Kaden looked at his phone. “An hour ago.”
“What?” He’d sat here for an hour?
“She texted me.” Kaden flipped his phone so Sage could see the message.
Unfortunately the numbers and letters swam. “What are you doing texting my mother?”
“I agreed to check on you.”
“Not necessary.” Sage took a breath and pushed up off the bench.
“I promised.”
Kaden kept pace as Sage used his keycard and headed inside the building.
“Are you escorting me to my door?” Sage snarled.
“Keeping a promise.” Kaden looked sideways at Sage. “How are the headaches?”
Sage grunted. Talking and walking wasn’t easy.
He punched the elevator button and leaned on the wall. “What’s the latest on the third man from the raid?”
“He was spotted in Five Points so the Atlanta Bureau is keeping watch.”
They stepped into the elevator.
“Margaret must hate that,” Sage muttered.
Margaret and Roger, the Atlanta agent-in-charge, didn’t play well together. Their divorce had been bitter. And Margaret had stolen Kaden from her ex when he’d worked a case in Savannah and fallen in love with Courtney. “I gather you were the liaison to broker that deal.”
Kaden snorted. “Yeah. Those two need to learn to separate business from their animosity.”
It took all of Sage’s concentration to walk from the elevator to his condo. When he arrived at his door, he pointed. “This is me.”
Kaden didn’t take the hint and leave. Sage dug for his key and opened the door. Somehow the hallway from his door to the kitchen had grown. He let his shoulder brush the wall to keep from stumbling. He couldn’t show weakness in front of his mentor. Kaden might report that he wasn’t able to work. “I’d offer you a beer, but I’m not sure if I have any.”
“Still on the pain meds?” Kaden asked.
Sage shrugged. Let him guess the answer. If he was unbalanced now, what would happen mixing meds and alcohol? “Check the fridge. Mom stocked it yesterday.”
Kaden headed to the fridge and didn’t witness Sage collapsing onto a kitchen chair.
“Found one,” Kaden said.
“Opener’s in that drawer.” Sage pointed. He had a water bottle from earlier. It wouldn’t look weird if he didn’t move.
Kaden took the seat across from him. He tipped his beer bottle. “Here’s to your successful recovery.”
Sage held up his water bottle. “I can drink to that.”
They talked Bureau business. Cases. Sage kept up, but all he wanted to do was nap.
Kaden finished his beer. His steel-blue eyes stared into Sage’s. “Why don’t you stay at my place? You’d have people keeping track of your recovery.”
Sage hadn’t fooled him. Would he report to Margaret that he wasn’t able to work? “I’m good here.”
“At least come to dinner tonight.”
He could barely walk. How would he get to Kaden’s apartment? “My mother put together a bunch of meals. I think I’ll stay in.”
“Okay. Thanks for the beer.” Kaden found the recycling and dropped the bottle in. “I’ll keep asking. I have to keep my word to your mother.”
Sage grinned. At least he hoped it was a grin and not a grimace. “When I run out of food, I’ll take you up on your offer.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” A goofy smile covered Kaden’s face. “I’d like you to meet my fiancée.”
Sage started to nod but the pain cranked up. “I can’t wait.”
He dug up enough energy to walk to the door.
After Kaden left, he threw the locks and grabbed the wall to stay upright. He’d gotten rid of his mother, but he couldn’t escape Kaden’s watchful eye.
