The sound of his cell phone ringing startled him awake sometime later. With a grunt, he plucked it from the bedside table. “Yeah.”
“Mr. McMillan, it’s Sergeant Hurley.”
“Hi.” He sat up and rubbed his face.
“I’ve got some information for you. The tire tracks at the well match tracks from the area surrounding your shop. We’ve narrowed it down to one of your company vehicles, and I can guarantee I know who it was.”
The sound of rushing water filled Devon’s head as John proceeded to share his suspicions. He heard John, but he might as well have been speaking from very far away. The words registered, but he couldn't comprehend them. How many times had others used those trucks for business and personal reasons? How often had he loaned his vehicles to his brother or his father after hours without question? The keys hung in the office for anyone to use at any time. Nausea crashed over him as he stumbled out of bed.
“Devon! Did you hear me?”
“He’s at the hospital,” Devon choked out, glancing at the clock as he made sure he was dressed. “He’s with her right now.” A combination of fury and panic gripped him in a stranglehold. “Get over there right now! There’s no way to know what he’ll do to her if he thinks she’ll remember!”
“I’m nowhere near the hospital, Devon, but Chloe is there. I’ll call her and have her go to Hailey’s room. I’ll call hospital security. Everything will be fine, I promise!”
It was the cold wash of betrayal making Devon numb. He couldn't believe it; didn't want to believe it was true. He paused on the threshold of a house tainted by a monster. “Are you positive, John?”
“I’m positive, Devon. I’m sorry.”
He forgot everything at the house as he ran out and got in the car. He didn't lock the door; he didn't put on his jacket. He sped to the hospital with dread in his gut pushing up the small amount of food he’d consumed earlier in the day. He barely made it to the lot before he had to stop the car and push his way out to puke on the pavement. The second he finished, he was racing as fast as his feet would take him. It was similar to the night they’d brought her in, except he was terrified of what that man would do if left alone with her. He knew her memory improved daily, and he knew how close he was to a five-year-old ratting him out. Devon choked on a sob as he ran, agony over the possibility of what might happen warring with the sharp stab of deceit. The elevator would never be fast enough; he ran for the sign indicating the stairs. Ignoring the acute pain in his side, he took the steps two at a time, bolting through the door on her floor and plowing directly into someone on the other side.
“Sorry!” was the best he could manage as they disentangled.
He tore off down the hall toward Hailey’s room, desperately hoping she was safe. He could focus on nothing else until he discovered that one thing was true. When he rounded the corner and her door came into view, he was so relieved to see a security guard outside her room he almost stopped breathing. Panting heavily, he drew to a stop in front of the man in uniform.
“I’m Hailey’s father, Devon McMillan. Please, tell me she's okay?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I need to see your ID before I can answer questions or allow you inside.”
“Shit.” Bending over, he pressed his hands to the stitch in his side as his head spun. “My wallet is at home. I was in such a hurry. The nurses know me. Call Sergeant Hurley. Please let me in to see if my baby is okay!”
“Devon?”
Tears poured down his face at the sound of Chloe’s voice. She stood in the doorway behind the officer who turned to look at her. “You’ll vouch for him, Miss Hemsworth?”
“Yes, Frank, he’s the girl’s father.”
Devon didn’t wait for pleasantries, he just pushed past Chloe and into the darkened room. The sky was overcast and the lights mostly off. The little girl in the bed was very still, and Devon froze as he waited for her chest to rise. When it did, he dropped into the nearest chair.
He was empty. Cold. Lost.What did he do to deserve such a fate?
“Devon?”
He didn't look up. “Did you speak to John?”
“I did, but he merely told me to get to her room immediately. What’s going on?” She kneeled in front of his chair so she could see his face. The misery there would be too much for anyone to bear.
“Was anyone in here with her?”
“No, which I found odd. She hasn't been alone since she was brought in.” Chloe touched his hand. “What’s going on?”
“John knows who it is.”
“Oh.” Chloe pressed a hand to her stomach. “It must be bad.”
Devon stared at her then. His face showed the results of his trauma, the creases of worry and lack of sleep, his eyes full of anguished tears.
“It’s beyond bad, Chloe. It’s more than I can even fathom. It’s—I can’t—”
