My finger jerked before I could stop myself, and when I lifted the phone to my ear, every one of my nerves tingled in response to the ringtone in my ear. I swallowed again, pressing my free hand to the desktop while I waited anxiously for Max to pick up.
The caretaker’s deep voice answered after the first thing. “Ms. Dougherty! Nice to hear from you.”
Relief flooded my chest. Clearly nothing bad had happened during the move. The doctors had said that Neal would most likely be more mobile after today. The bullet had missed most of his vital organs, and while he would have a scar, it wasn’t life threatening. They had been more concerned about the concussion that he’d come in with, the result of falling to the cement after he passed out. But since Neal had woken up a few days before, pulling his IV lines out and demanding to be released, he had made excellent progress, and they expected no long-term issues.
“Hi, Max.” My voice cracked a little, which only embarrassed me further. “Just checking in.”
The jovial-sounding man quickly launched into a variety of technical-sounding details about Neal’s condition as I nodded along, turning to stare out my window. In the background, I could hear a deep, muffled voice speaking.
He was awake, then.
“I’m not exactly sure what all that means, but you sound pleased,” I said after a long moment.
Max chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. He’s looking great. Stitches look great, and no more headaches. The pain medicine he’s on is still keeping him groggy—”
My heart leapt a little. “But that’s normal, right?”
“Completely. From what I can tell, Mr. Crowe lived a rough life as of late. Perhaps his body is just taking the time to catch up on much-needed sleep and care.”
“That makes sense. Thank you, Max. As soon as I get Madeline, we will be home. Does that still work for you?”
“Works great.”
“I’ll see you then. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”
We hung up a moment later, and I finally took a long, deep breath and dived in to work. I needed to talk to Madeline one more time before we went home. I wasn’t letting her stay in the house until Neal was up and comfortable, but I still wanted to talk to her about it.
I drilled through the rest of my day and found myself standing by the edge of my desk, nails tapping as I waited for Church to bring my car around. Ever since my attack, I’d stopped doing any kind of errands after work. It was obvious that something was going on, and I wasn’t about to risk myself or my family because of stupid pride.
I would absolutely wait for Church. Outside of being my driver, the man was built like a mountain. And while I knew that his hobbies included cross-stitching and watching reruns of Gilmore Girls with Madeline, his size had always been a feature that made everyone think twice. He’d been the one who had helped pick up Neal and get him into the hospital the day of the attack.
CHURCH: Coast is clear, boss; I have the package.
I grinned, waving to Tia as I walked outside and straight to the black SUV. Church was holding the door, his handsome faceturned up in a welcoming smile. I crawled into the back seat, sweeping the tail of my coat in after me. The package, as Church always described her, was sitting in the other captain’s chair, head bowed as she stared into a brightly lit iPad.
“Hi baby. Good day at school?” I asked, setting in for the short drive home.
Church closed the door behind me, leaving us in the shrouded interior darkness. I could still see that Madeline shrugged, her fingers scrolling around the page. I sighed, reaching my hand across and putting it on her arm.
“Are you still upset with me?”
“No.” A lie, obvious by the way that she still wouldn’t look at me. My daughter had been irate about my attack, her teenage angst fueled by the fact that I’d refused to back away from this project to acquire Storm Media. Even after their owner Savi Rodriquez continued to be a massive pain in the ass. There was no proof yet, but as far as we could tell, his company would profit the most if our confidential files were taken.
Instead of looking at me, she stared pointedly out the window, eyes focused on something I couldn’t see.
“It’s okay if you are,” I told her softly. “I’m here whenever you want to talk.” Even though it physically hurt me, I removed my hand from her arm and sat back in my chair. She was allowed to have her feelings. I just hoped that when she was ready to talk about it, she would tell me.
Church got in, easing the engine to life and pulling out into the Chicago traffic. Our penthouse was a short drive from our headquarters, and while I would prefer to walk, that simply wasn’t an option right now.
Maybe she was lulled by my words or the comfortable hum of background music around us, but Madeline put down the iPad. When she turned to me, her face was open and downright vulnerable for the first time in days. “I miss you.” Her shouldersdropped, just a fraction of an inch, but I knew it well enough to know that she telling me the truth.
After a long moment, I said, “I know. I miss you too.”
“How much longer will he be there? Not that I’m trying to put some guy in a coma out on the streets, but I want my house back too.” Her lip quivered.
“He’s not in a coma, Maddie. The medicine is just making him really tired. And I know. It’s been an odd week, hasn’t it? The doctors have assured me that Neal should be up and about by the end of next week, and we can see how his stitches are healing.”
“And then?” Madeline’s confusion over my interest in this man was evident. And unlike how I’d felt telling my brother, I did want to explain it to her.
