“Hunt, don’t even say it. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking—I’m not thinking. I can’t lose her. Why is she so opposed to it?” Ian sounded distraught.
“It’s uncomfortable. The feeding nauseates her and causes other discomforts. She’s refusing pain meds too. It’s a control thing. I think she believes she deserves to suffer. I’m going to call Stephanie for some generic advice.”
“Can we at least fix the first part of the problem?”
“Feedings are trial and error, but we need the tube in place to see what works. Your mom, who, by the way, is a terrific nurse, had Ellen mix up a homemade batch that should be better tolerated. We have nutrition and tubing. We can even bypass the stomach. All we need is a cooperative patient.”
“Give me half an hour. I’ll meet you in Cassie’s room.”
* * *
While waiting for Luke to join him, he found the picture of Cassie coming off the air ambulance at sixteen. The image was shocking with its raw emotion. She lay on a stretcher, her face contorted in pain, Christian and Caleb pushing back at reporters, and Mark Devereaux, wearing sunglasses, walking behind in a calm manner.
“Luke, there’s no other way to say this, but what did you tell Devereaux about Cassie?” Ian asked even before Luke sat.
“What do you mean? I told him Cassie was conscious—and I hoped he would come to see her soon. I called him from the hospital after the attack and update him every few days. I guess he’s one of those people who can’t be around illness.”
“He knows Cassie is here?” Ian raised his brow.
Luke gritted his teeth, not needing more to draw the picture. “Son of a bitch. I’ll kill him with my bare hands. Jesus, I didn’t think.”
“Why would you go there? If I’m right, he’s been doing this for a long time.” Ian showed Luke the news picture.
“What a horror. We thought we’d covered every base to ensure her privacy—even used an alias. The media swarmed her.”
“I suspect he outed her then—and now. Write down the dates and times you spoke to him—and, if you can, what you discussed. We can touch base when you’re finished.”
“If he’s involved in this, I want him underground.” Anger erupted in an aura.
Alone, Ian fired up his computer. The report on the screen stared up at him: “Cassiopeia Ellis: blood type O negative. Baby boy Ellis: blood type A negative. Sebastian Ames: blood type O positive. Robert Bynum Jr.: blood type O positive.” He focused on the blinking cursor. Neither man could be William’s father. The father was a man with either A negative or AB negative blood.
He dialed Kieran. “Did you see the prelim?”
“Yeah, what do you think?”
“I need to take care of something for Hunt. Grab Martin and Mia. By the time I’m done, we can meet in the home office,” Ian said with purpose.
“See you in a bit,” Kieran responded with caution.
* * *
“Explain why you don’t want to do this, Cassie,” Hunter said.
She nibbled on her knuckle. “I just can’t fight anymore. It’s too hard.”
“We all want to help you. I know it’s not the most comfortable thing, and I know we haven’t hit upon the right formula. I can’t help but think you’re out of sorts. That’s understandable; who wouldn’t be with all you went through and are going through?
“Honey, your body still has a lot of healing to do. You need the calories. Refusing will only make you sicker,” Pete urged.
“You all care, I know that. It’s not your fault. I just want to be.”
* * *
When Ian opened the door, Cassie scooted up the bed at his stern expression. He turned up his palm, trying to ease her fear. “Can we talk about this together? Hunt, can you give us a few minutes?”
Ian squatted in front of her. “Sweetheart, talk to me.” He took her hands in his. “I will still kiss you with your feeding tube. You are beautiful no matter what.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Ian. It’s too much. I want the hurting to stop.”
