"Good idea. She doesn't need the stress. She had something to eat and took her meds. As far as I can see, she's handling it well."
"She's tough. Christ! This is some bloody mess."
"It is. The babies are fine. Appears they're tough as well."
Swinging away from the blood that had seeped into the grass, he headed back to the house.
"I'll see you shortly."
Chapter 10
He wasn't sure he managed to work off the rage. He spent the time from the plane ride to the half hour from the airfield, doing breathing exercises and trying to concentrate on work. It did not work. He was so pissed he could barely sit still.
He arrived at the house when dusk was beginning to gather, the soft lights from the solar lamps glinting on the bushes and the flowers blooming everywhere. It was coming to the end of summer, so the days were still long. What a difference, he mused. In Ireland, the weather was already leaning toward chilly.
Irene met him at the door and silently took his case.
"She's sleeping. Woke up an hour ago and had some soup, a bit of bread and butter. That medication the doctor gave her knocked her right out again." She touched his arm lightly. "They will find the bastard."
"I hope they do before I get hold of him." He let go of the tight rein on his control and simply leaned against the wall. "I don't want her to see me like this." He breathed through his teeth and had the housekeeper dropping his case and wrapping her arms around him.
"Here, honey." She rubbed his back and held on. He held on for a few minutes, closing his eyes as the calm washed over him. "Just let it all out."
He held on for a minute more. "Thanks Irene."
The housekeeper patted his cheek, before kissing it. "You go right ahead and go be with your girl. I'll rustle up something for supper."
"I'll take that," he gestured to the case and she handed it over, watching as he hurried up the stairs. Pursing her lips, she turned towards the kitchen to prepare something filling.
Taking his case to the closet, he put it down carefully before making his way to the bed. She was sleeping with her side towards him, hands folded under her cheek. She had her hair braided just before he left for Ireland, claiming that she was tired of "that damn annoying hair stylist coming over every other day." It was the usual twists and coils that suited her so well.
Her lips were slightly parted and she looked so vulnerable.
He flexed his hands and tried to stop the tremors, before reaching out to touch her satiny cheek. "Hi baby." He whispered hoarsely, lightly stroking her skin. "I should let you sleep, butI just want to touch you, to make certain you're still here," he eased out a breath. "I want to kill him for torturing us like this. I promise to keep you safe." He smiled slightly. "I'm being selfish about it. I cannot live without you. Just the thought of it makes me want to die. Christ! I love you so bloody damn much, that it makes me panic when I visualize someone hurting you."
Bending, he kissed the tip of her nose, before easing back. He wanted to slip in beside her but resisted the urge.
Walking over to the sofa where he could keep an eye on her, he pulled out his phone and called Eric.
"Nothing so far. We're combing through the bastard's life and have come up with all sorts of weird things. Margo and the others are speculating that he killed his mother. There's no proof of course and he had her cremated."
"Christ Almighty! Who the hell are we dealing with?"
"A sick bastard. We have people going through his financials. We're bound to come up with something."
"Let me..." His voice tailed off when he detected movement from the bed. "I'll have to get back to you. Keep me posted."
"Got it."
When she whispered his name, he was off the sofa like a shot.
"Hey,"
"You're here."
"Of course I am." Lowering himself, he took her hand in his and studied her face. Thankfully, she looked rested.
"I'm sorry."
