Sylvia would be awake. What kind of mood would she be in? Would she be annoyed that Indie was there? Or might she finally start coming around?
They turned a corner and a man walking toward them made her frown. Why, exactly, she wasn’t sure. Because of the tattoos down his arm? Because of his size?
He passed them, and she shook her head. She was just freaked out about Gordon. She shouldn’t be judging a man because of a couple of tattoos.
They rounded another corner, and halfway down the hall, a deputy was stationed outside of Sylvia’s room. Colt’s fingers tightened around hers.
They stopped beside the guy. “I’m Colt, the son,” he said, and showed his driver’s license.
The deputy dipped his head. “Wade. Sheriff told me about you. Go in when you’re ready. She’s awake.”
“Thanks.” Colt turned to Indie. “Are you sure you want to come in with me?”
“Yes. I’d like to know she’s okay. I also want to support you.” She glanced at the seats in the hall. “But if you’d prefer I didn’t—”
“No. I want you with me. And she needs to see us together.”
Relief sent air rushing from her chest. A part of her had been scared he’d want her to wait outside. And she’d understand. Sylvia had just gone through something really traumatic—maybe he didn’t want to risk upsetting her. But she was glad he wanted her with him, and hoped Sylvia would be okay with it.
“I’ll be right by your side, then.”
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.
“So much better since eating something. I don’t know what was going on.” It must have been a low blood sugar thing. Either that or sleep- or stress-induced. Heck, it could be a whole list of things.
Colt studied her. “You let me know if you’re not feeling well and we’ll go straight home.”
She nodded.
He lowered his head and kissed her forehead before pushing inside. Just like the previous night, nausea swelled in Indie’s belly at the sight of bruises on Sylvia’s face and the tubes attached to her body.
Sylvia’s eyes popped right open, and the start of a smile curved her lips. “Colt, honey.” Then she looked at Indie, and the smile slipped. Only a fraction, but she saw it. “Indie.”
Guess things weren’t any different.
Indie offered a small smile. “Hi, Sylvia.”
Colt stepped forward and touched his mother’s hand. “How are you feeling?”
“I woke up in so much pain this morning, but the lovely nurses gave me some more medication and now I barely feel anything.”
“Good. And last night was quiet?”
“Your father didn’t make an appearance.”
“Thank God.” Colt lowered into the seat beside the bed. “What happened last night, Mom?”
Real fear flickered in Sylvia’s eyes, and even though so much had happened between them, Indie’s heart hurt for the woman.
“Ben and I walked out of the community center. I wanted to leave early because I was tired. We’d just reached the car when Ben heard something. He shouted at me to get down. I heard a gun.” Tears glistened in Sylvia’s eyes. “He was shot. I wanted to help him, but your father stepped out from behind a car. I ran back toward the building to get help. That’s when I was calling you. But he caught me before I could get inside.”
Colt’s muscles visibly bunched, and Sylvia took a moment to compose herself before she continued.
“He wanted money,” she continued. “A lot. I said no. Said he wasn’t getting a single cent from me ever again—and he just lost it. He was angrier than I’d ever seen him.”
Colt’s jaw pulsed, and Indie set a palm on his back, a gentle reminder that she was here.
“Did he say what the money was for?” Colt asked through gritted teeth.
