"It certainly did not do him any good."
"Ready?" They were out in the parking lot of the hospital. It was two in the afternoon, because he had insisted on them sleeping in and having a full meal prepared by a very happy Irene who had been told the news as soon as they woke up.
"As ready as I can be." She took a deep breath, which had him searching her face.
"You don't have to do it. We can just turn around and go back home." Taking her hand, he linked their fingers. "It's up to you."
She nodded, fingers gripping his. "I know. I want to do it. I want to see him."
"All right."
Her smile was a little wistful. "You don't know what it's like to come from an unhappy home."
"Kiara--"
"No." She shook her head. "I'm not going to rehash anything or feel sorry for him. Well, I do feel sorry for him a little. My point is, I have you. I cannot say I was going to go mental and start stalking people or murdering my own mother. No matter how nasty she was to me, that never entered my mind. I just wanted to get away from her. And I was all right. I had my career and a few friends."
She lifted their joined hands and pressed it against her cheek. "And then I found my passion in writing. What I'm trying to say is that I was all right before you came into my life, but now, I'm happy. I'm contented and fulfilled. That's a lot better than being all right. Do you understand?"
Her words sent the emotions tumbling through his body and all he could was nod.
"Yes." He finally found his voice. "Thanks for telling me that. Now I can face the bastard without wanting to choke the life from him." He eyed her quizzically. "Was that your intention?"
"No." She laughed softly. "But that's an added bonus." Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his. When she would have eased back, he held on and deepened the kiss.
Releasing her lips, he rolled his forehead on hers and breathed her in to steady himself. "All right, let's do this."
With their hands still entwined, they walked side by side toward the hospital entrance, the weight of anticipation pressing down on them. The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss, ushering them into the sterile, brightly lit corridor. Each step echoed with purpose, their resolve fortified by the trust and comfort found in each other.
They exchanged a silent glance, a mutual understanding passing between them. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.
Margo was waiting for them at the door where a police officer was on duty.
"He's in bad shape," she said in an undertone. "His fever has returned and he's hallucinating. I don't know if you'll get anything much out of him."
"I just want to look at him."
"He's not a pretty sight," Margo warned her.
"I'm prepared." Using her free hand to press on the bulge of her belly, she nodded to Margo, indicating that she was ready.
Sweeping the door open, Margo stepped back to allow them to precede her.
Even though she had been warned, Kiara was unprepared for the sight that greeted her. She had been shown pictures of a man who would not have merited a second glance, but now, he was grotesque. The fever and infection had leached all the color from his already sallow complexion, leaving it pasty and sweaty. His eyes were a pale gray, almost translucent. His lips were dry and his face twitching.
And he looked like death warmed over.
Despite what she had told Oscar in the car, she felt the sadness claiming her.
"Is he lucid?"
Before Margo could respond, his gaze shifted to focus on Kiara, sending a jolt through her body.
"You came." His voice was raspy. "I never thought you would." He shifted his gaze to Oscar and looked away immediately. "I wanted to say I'm sorry." He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down. "I would never hurt you. I loved you--" His gaze flew to Oscar again, flinching at the icy look on the man's face. He looked back at Kiara quickly.
"I wasn't a bad person, you know. I prayed and read my Bible every day." His hands fisted on the sheets restlessly. "I tried to be good. But I became bad." His tongue slid out to wet his cracked lip. "I deserve to be punished. God is punishing me."
"You killed your mother and tried to kill me."
