Scrambling out of bed, she raced into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Removing the kimono from a wall hook, she slipped it over her head. She entered the bedroom at the same time Gage strolled in carrying two trays.
“I’d hoped to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”
“You have,” she said, smiling. “With breakfast and with the bracelet.” Tonya held up her left arm. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. Now get back into bed so we can eat together.”
She smoothed down the sheet and climbed back into bed, taking the tray from Gage and placing it across her lap. He had prepared a light, fluffy omelet, home fries, toast, and a cup of fresh fruit. “This smells wonderful.”
He got into bed next to her. “Bon appétit.”
“Thank you.” Tonya bit into the omelet filled with green onions and Gruyère. “You’re going to spoil me where I’d want breakfast in bed every morning.”
Gage ruffled her short hair. “That can be easily arranged.”
“Breakfast or spoiling?”
“Both.”
“I’m glad you suggested staying in this weekend,” Gage said after a comfortable silence. “I know I promised my mother I’d come up to Lafayette to see her, but right now I’m not up to driving more than a hundred fifty miles in the rain.”
Tonya’s fork stopped in midair when she stared at him. “You canceled seeing your mother to be with me?”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it, Gage? I don’t want your mother angry with me because—”
“Stop it, Tonya. My not seeing my mother has nothing to do with you. I didn’t make a firm commitment to see her; otherwise she would’ve called and read me the riot act.”
“I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“You’re entitled to overreact every once in a while.”
“Why, thank you, sir.”
He ran a finger down the length of her short nose. “You’re welcome, madam.”
* * *
Tonya sat on the window seat in the garret, staring at the rain sluicing down the glass. She and Gage had shared a shower, splashing each other like little kids before she begged him to stop. She’d retreated to the attic when Gage had to return several phone calls; she didn’t want him to think she was eavesdropping on his conversations.
She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs and turned away from the window. The expression on his face was one she would never forget: fear. “What is it?”
“It’s Wesley.”
Tonya stood up. “What about him?”
“The police just called to say someone found him in an alley beaten so badly he’s barely alive.”
Tonya was galvanized into action. “I’m coming with you.”
She didn’t remember putting on her running shoes or grabbing a poncho from the closet. What she did remember was Gage speeding and running red lights to get to the municipal hospital. It appeared that the natural color had drained out of his face, while a muscle twitched nervously in his jaw. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, she took his keys. She wasn’t going to allow him to drive like that again and wrap the Audi around a pole.
She felt helpless, impotent—as helpless as she’d felt when she pleaded with her brother to give up selling and using drugs. But all of her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Ian had claimed he was in too deep and didn’t know how or want to get out.
She sat in the hospital waiting area for family members while Gage spoke to someone at the nurses’ station. He was gone for so long Tonya thought he’d forgotten she had come with him.
She popped up when he walked into the room. It was as if he’d aged overnight. “How is he?”
