I’m so sorry, Jack.
Water gushed and a few nurses screamed as water poured down onto their heads and into their computers. Sirens wailed and red lights flashed. For that instant in time, Hands turned his head away from her door. She used the opportunity to dash down the hall and into the emergency stairwell. More alarms sounded, but no one paid the extra noise any attention. She made it to the bottom floor, just as fire trucks arrived at the scene. In the chaos, it was almost too easy to scoot around them and hail a cab to the airport. She hoped that no one was hurt, but her baby’s life was on the line.
A text popped up on her screen with a terminal and flight number. Zoe paid the cab driver in cash, and wondered about how she was going to travel without a passport. She was never this flaky, but she had this overwhelming urge to get on a plane, find her healing family, and fix the baby.
How long should she wait before giving up and going back home?
“This is crazy,” she muttered.
A man bumped into her with his suitcase, almost knocking her off her feet. Apologizing profusely, he grabbed her hand and thrust a small purse under her arm. She felt a jolt of healing energy and he ran off. She opened the purse and found a passport with her picture, money, and a plane ticket with a boarding pass.
She shook her head and wandered to her gate. The flight was already boarding.
What was she doing? There were so many things wrong with this situation, but she didn’t have time to think.
She held her breath as she handed her passport to the agent in security. He glanced at the document and handed it back to her. “Have a good trip.”
“Thank you.” Her hands were shaking when she removed her shoes, her cellphone and her two purses into a container. When they called her flight, she looked down at her ticket for her row. She hadn’t even noticed. She was flying first class to Europe and away from the man she loved, the father of her baby.
Chapter 36
Jack was in the hospital lobby when the alarm screeched. He dropped the stuffed animal, the Dunkin' Donuts tray, and bolted to the emergency stairs. On the eighth floor, he had to scoot past a tsunami of soggy hospital staff, gurneys, and wheelchairs before reaching Zoe's room.
Fuck.Her room was empty and Hands nowhere in sight.
How had he let this happen again?
Her last words haunted him.I want to be loved, too.What was wrong with him? Three stupid words. He'd fucked up again. He should have told her what she needed to hear.
Out of breath, Hands met in the hall, his clothes drenched. “Sorry. She was long gone by the time I made it to the street.”
Jack bit back the scathing oaths at the tip of his tongue.
“Find her.” Anger seethed in his low voice when he said, “And I want to know everything she’s done for the last two weeks. Every call. Every keystroke. Everything. Are we clear?”
“Yes, boss.”
An hour later, Jack sat in the back seat of the town car with a spreadsheet of every text and call she’d made in the last forty-eight hours. He cursed vehemently when he read the last few.
“Get us to JFK.”
Hands grunted. The car slid in behind a line of taxis, went through a yellow light, and moved slowly along on Seventh Avenue South.
Jack keyed in Zoe's best friend’s cell number and pressed send.
A concerned voice answered. “Zoe?”
“No. This is Jack Fialko.”
“Fialko?” He could hear the frown in her voice.
“Zoe just bolted from her hospital. Did she call you?” Jack glanced out at the traffic as they crawled forward a foot at a time.
“Last time we spoke, she was pretty pissed off. Not sure if I'd tell you, even if I knew.”
“Youareaware she was kidnapped? Twice.” Jack swallowed his impatience. Loyalty was one thing but Zoe and his baby were in danger.
“Hell no. The stalker?”
