Chapter 12
Damn that rat bastard. Fury raced through Jack’s veins. He’d trusted Steve with his life. And the life of the two people most precious to him. But was it him? They’d been together when he’d gotten the call from Scott and he’d seemed horrified and encouraged Jack to go to his son. Had he done this because he knew there would be some of Cabrini’s men here to grab him? How could he do this to a child when he had a few of his own?
Indecision warred in his head as he stared at the sleeping boy. Who was cruel enough to poison a two-year-old child? If Cabrini didn’t think Jonathan was his grandson, he’d say maybe the crime boss had done it. That piece of scum was capable of almost anything. Unfortunately, most of it they couldn’t prove. But had someone done it who worked for Cabrini, without the mobster’s knowledge? Trying to get in good with the head man by bringing in the guy who’d killed his son?
“Do you think it might have been in the juice box?” Callie’s voice brought him back to the present. “How would it get in there? And why were none of the other juice boxes affected?”
It would be easy enough to tamper with the box using a syringe and make it look like nothing had been touched. He doubted Callie had examined the box too closely before letting Jonathan drink it. Should he tell her his suspicions or keep quiet? If she knew, she could be more vigilant, but she could also become paranoid about every little thing. And she might even ask him to stay away from Jonathan completely. That was probably the right thing to do but how could he protect them if he couldn’t come near?
His jaw tightened, his decision made. He needed to push harder. Take more chances no matter the risk to him. Make every attempt to get more evidence so Cabrini couldn’t hurt them anymore. He needed to be with his family, Callie and Jonathan, or at least get Cabrini out of their lives. As soon as Jonathan was better, he’d dig deeper for the information needed, damn the consequences. And he’d have a little chat with Steve.
* * * *
Callie opened her eyes trying to get her bearings. She was in some sort of reclining chair and strange noises hissed and beeped around her. The sight of the hospital bed had her immediately sitting up, remembering. Jonathan was sick.
Jack sat on the side of the bed, his hands cradling Jonathan’s tiny ones. He’d been in that exact position, was it a few hours ago? Glancing at her watch she noted it was past seven in the morning. Somehow she’d managed to sleep for a few hours.
How she’d relaxed enough to fall asleep, she wasn’t sure, but Jack’s solid presence watching over their son, enabled her to let go of the worry long enough to slumber. Holding her long into the night, he’d finally insisted she lie in the recliner to rest. After giving in, she’d nodded off. The dark circles under his eyes indicated he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all though.
Lifting the blanket draped over her, she got up. Had Jack put this on her? It hadn’t been there when she’d sat down to rest. But then she’d been so exhausted, physically and emotionally, she was surprised she could remember her name.
Jack turned his head as she walked closer to the bed. His eyes were bloodshot and droopy and his hair looked as if he’d run his hands through it all night. Most likely he had. It was a habit of his when he was anxious.
“Hey, Calico, you got some sleep. Good.”
She moved closer but decided touching Jack first thing in the morning, before she’d had her coffee, might have disastrous results. Making any decisions before the caffeine hit her blood stream wasn’t wise.
“Butyoudidn’t, am I right?”
He gave a tired shrug. “I wanted someone to be aware if Jonathan woke up.”
Her stomach clenched. “He hasn’t woken up at all yet?”
“No, but the doctor came in about an hour ago and checked him out. They took more blood samples. He said it could be a while before he wakes up. His body is keeping him asleep so it can heal.”
“Did the doctor say hewouldwake up, though?” She didn’t actually want the answer. Well, she wanted one answer but not the other. Could she handle it if Jonathan didn’t wake up? No. It was hard enough keeping herself together now. If her son didn’t get better, they’d be scraping her off the floor.
Jack reached out, pulling on her hand until she was flush against his side. Like yesterday when he’d first gotten here, he settled her on his leg. No resistance then, no resistance now. If he had bad news, he’d have to hold her up. No way could she stand on her own. She wasn’t that strong.
“He doesn’t know, Calico.” Jack’s usually strong voice was rough and filled with emotion. It scared her. He’d been her rock while she was spying on Angelo and she’d counted on him to keep her strong too. If he broke down now, how would she ever survive?
“He didn’t say much,” he continued after clearing his throat. “He checked his vital signs but said it was too soon to tell with someone this small. They don’t know exactly what damage has been done yet. If any of it will be permanent.”
Sucking in a shaky breath, she leaned farther against Jack. His arms tightened around her and she rested her head against his shoulder. He stroked his hand up and down her back in little circles, his attempt at comfort. She simply neededhim. His being here was more comfort than she’d had in a long time.
“I can’t lose him, Jack,” she sobbed. “He’s all I have.”
Jack looked away, his jaw clenched. She’d hurt his feelings. But the truth was she didn’t have him. Never really had. And even if he didn’t have this price hanging over his head, she wasn’t sure if they could be happy together. He lived a life of excitement and danger. Not what she wanted. Calm and boring never sounded so good.
“You won’t, Callie, he’ll be fine. I promise. The doctors will do everything they can to get him back to normal.”
Pushing herself from his grip, fear and anger pulsed through her and she glared. “You don’t know that. You aren’t a doctor. And what do you know about what’s normal for Jonathan? You’re hardly ever around. Maybe if you were, Jonathan wouldn’t have ingested the poison and be lying in that bed dying right now.”
She slapped her hand over her mouth as the words gushed forth. Pain slashed across his features and he closed his eyes, looking away.Why did you say that? Look what you did.Her son being ill was agony to her and she wanted to hurt someone else. It shouldn’t have been Jack but he’d been convenient.And he hasn’t been around.She pushed that little voice aside, no matter how much truth it spouted.
Standing slowly, his shoulders sagged, defeated. Never had she seen him this way. She lifted one hand but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Jack, I didn’t …”
