“Why not?”
“I have to go away for a few days.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Now? You need to go away now when Andrew is getting his transplant?” Connor asked, sounding confused and a little disappointed.
“I’m sorry, but I got a call from Trevor while you went to check up on Andrew. I guess with all the excitement I forgot to tell you but Zoe’s not feeling well and Trevor is running himself ragged between work and taking care of both sets of twins. Everyone else is trying to help, but they really need someone to stay with them. I’ll only be gone for a few days,” Rory said, forcing a reassuring smile.
“Okay,” Connor said, sighing and not sounding particularly happy about it, but at least he let it go. “Drive safe, baby, and give me a call when you get there to let me know that you’re okay.”
“I will,” Rory said with another forced smile as she gave him a quick kiss on the lips, glad that this at least bought her a few more days to move on.
New Haven Hospital
The next day…
“We’re not supposed to release you unless you have someone to take care of you,” the nurse explained even as she helped Rory out of the wheelchair and into the waiting taxi.
“My brothers are going to take care of me,” Rory said as another wave of dizziness shot through her head and threatened to make her lose the green Jell-O lunch that they’d forced down her throat.
“Are you sure?” the nurse asked, looking uncertain.
“Yes,” Rory assured her, thankful when the nurse took her at her word and closed the door behind her.
“Where to, Miss?” the driver asked.
“The Holiday Inn on Tremont Street,” she said, closing her eyes and letting her head drop back against the faded-cloth seat as she did her best to ignore the throbbing that was starting to make itself known in her hip.
Thirty minutes later, Rory was letting herself in her hotel room and praying for death with each step. She thought a soak in a hot bath would help, but by the time she made it to the bed, it was obvious that she wouldn’t be making it that far, at least, not today.
Chapter 38
“You’re fired. Get the fuck off my site,” Connor told the bastard that he’d caught sitting on his ass and text messaging his girlfriend while the rest of the men were busting their assess.
“What? You can’t fire me!” Dave, the man that he’d foolishly hired as a supervisor and had given way too many chances, said, getting in Connor’s face.
“I just did,” Connor said, stepping around the asshole as he gestured to a few of his men to remove the prick.
“What the hell am I supposed to tell my wife?” the man demanded as Connor walked away.
“That texting your girlfriend got your ass fired!” Connor yelled over his shoulder, not bothering to waste another second on the asshole.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and after one look, shoved it back in his back pocket and kicked a bucket full of sand out of his way, not giving a damn where it landed. Three days, three fucking days without a word from Rory. He’d never gone this long without talking to her or seeing her and he didn’t like it, not one fucking bit.
This wasn’t like Rory.
The night that Andrew received his transplant, he’d called her to tell her that everything was going good so far and that he loved her, but she never answered. The next day, he’d sent her an email update of the project and still nothing.
Something was seriously wrong. He didn’t know if he’d pissed her off or if she just needed space, which he could deal with. What he couldn’t deal with was not knowing where she was or if she was okay. Rory wasn’t the type to leave a project of this size for three days without checking in. She wouldn’t do that, not unless she didn’t have a choice.
He called Trevor and left a message this morning, but he hadn’t heard back from him yet and-
“I just got your message. What’s going on?” Trevor asked, pulling on a Yankees baseball cap as he climbed out of his truck and headed towards Connor.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Connor asked, frowning as he noted that the parking lot was suddenly overrun with trucks sporting Yankees stickers and Bradfords, a lot of fucking Bradfords.
“Is that really any way to talk to your favorite in-laws?” Jason asked with a tsk as he threw a toolbelt over his shoulder as he joined them.
“We’re here to get this project finished,” Trevor said absently as he tossed a hard hat to one of his younger cousins.
