Of course, she hadn’t shared the full extent of how awful Connor had been to her. Davis already knew more than enough about her—most of it bad.
“I’m okay. Clay will be here soon. You don’t need to stay.”
No sooner had she said it than her half brother strode into the room, his long hair a little rumpled. Clay was actually sort of cool, and in the moments when Mia wasn’t miserable this week, she’d been happy for Gabriella that Clay seemed totally into her. Mia wouldn’t have pictured the head of her support group with someone kinda rock n’ roll like Clay. Between his motorcycle and his guitar playing—not to mention his PI job that had let him travel all over the US—Mia’s brother was definitely not your average joe.
“How are you doing?” Clay asked her, glancing toward the bed before returning his focus to her. “Rough night?” He clapped Davis on the shoulder, seemingly okay withMia’s sort-of boyfriend after a quick exchange in the driveway before school one morning.
In fact, Clay seemed more at ease around Davis than with their father, making no move to stand next to their dad.
It did not take a psych degree to see the tension there.
“I’m okay. It just kind of spooked me when he suddenly sat up and started asking for you.” She scooted out of Clay’s way. “He really wanted to talk to you.”
And she tried not to let that sting. While she and Pete didn’t have some great father-daughter thing, she had tried hard to show him how much she appreciated having a home with him by cooking and cleaning and just helping him out with stuff. But Pete didn’t seem to have any need for a bedside heart-to-heart withher.
Her brother ground his teeth, his jaw flexing a few times.
“And here I am.” Clay shrugged and headed toward the bed with as much enthusiasm as a kid walking into the principal’s office. “Davis, I can take Mia home after I finish up. No need to stick around.”
Davis tugged an earbud out of his ear and looked up from the game. “I’d like to keep Mia company, if you don’t mind.”
“That’s cool. Just didn’t want you stuck at the hospital if you needed to get home.”
“My mom knows I’m here. She’s fine with it,” Davis assured him just as the hospital bed behind them squeaked.
“Clay?” her father called in that weak but cranky voice that made Mia sad. “That you?”
Mia glanced around Clay to see Pete struggling to sit up. She wanted to help, but knew that would only make him crankier. Her chest hurt from worrying about him. And herself.
“Come on.” Davis dropped an arm around her shoulder, and that helped ease some of the ache. “Let’s go to the waiting room and see if they made new coffee or if the old pot exploded from sitting empty on the hot plate.”
Of course, she didn’t care about coffee or hot plates. But she liked that Davis wanted to distract her. Wanted to stay with her. If she hadn’t been scared her dad wasn’t going to make it through the night, she would have been the happiest girl ever.
Even with no cell phone. She stared down at the device she shouldn’t turn on. Not even for a minute.
As long as Connor couldn’t track her down, she’d be fine.
“Have a seat, boy. Your pacing makes an old man dizzy,” Pete complained while the heavy hospital room door closed behind Mia and her boyfriend.
Clayton slowed his step near the antibacterial soap dispenser, taking an extra second to wash his hands. He hadn’t realized he’d been stalking around the small room like a tiger ready for a meal, but he definitely needed to relax. Get this over with.
No matter what his father wanted now, would it really do anything to mitigate the fact that he’d beaten his kids, lost custody and refused to give them a shred of guidance in a world that left them with no bearings? No home?
It damn well couldn’t bring back the baby who didn’t make it past infancy. And it could never ease the pain of losing Eddy.
Still, Clay strode toward the hospital bed and dragged a big chair closer. Gabriella had urged him to hear his fatherout. To make what peace he could with the past before it was too late.
For her sake, and for Mia’s, Clay planned to at least listen.
“Took you long enough,” Pete groused, stabbing at the remote attached to a cord that raised and lowered his bed. His head lifted so he was sitting up, staring at Clay over a rolling table that held a water pitcher and some extra cups.
“You had a seizure the last time we tried to talk,” Clay reminded him, scuffing his boot across the terrazzo floor. “I wasn’t sure I should try a second time.”
“So it’s your fault I’m stuck in here?” Pete reached for the water pitcher, grabbing it with a shaky grip before spilling a little out into a cup. “I was trying to stay `round home long as I could for the girl’s sake. She’s scared to go back to foster care. Damned if I know why, though.” Pete cackled drily between sips of water. “For you, that foster care was like a lottery ticket! You couldn’t run out fast enough. But Mia…” He swiped an impatient hand through his hair. “Something bad musta happened. Different for the girls.”
It was more than his father had ever spoken to him at one time. Well, unless you counted screaming rants. But since those were rarely coherent, Clay didn’t include them.
He tapped his thumb against his knee, wishing Gabriella was here to hear this. It confirmed her fears about Mia.
