He could no longer tamp down the rush of emotion, and his voice choked as he said, “I love you, too, baby. I’ve got your back. Always.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. The same color as his. Her mouth pressed into a tight line, and she nodded, squeezing his hand.
Maddocks was not in his room, his bed empty, covers thrown back.
Anxiety twisted tighter inside Angie as she stared at the vacant bed. She just needed to see him with her own eyes, touch him, see that he was okay.Fuck.This was going to cost her. She’d disobeyed direct orders in going after him alone. But she also knew that she’d do it again in a heartbeat—he and Ginny would probably be dead right now if she hadn’t.
“I figure he’s with Ginny,” Holgersen said.
“Where’s Ginny’s room? Same floor?”
“Yeah.”
“Take me there.”
“Maybe it’s not the best idea—”
“Jesus, Holgersen, just push me, will you? I can’t make my arm work right now or I’d freaking do it myself.”
“Glad to see yous back, Pallorino,” he said, grabbing the wheelchair handles and swiveling her around. “You’d make a wretched senior, you know.”
Angie swallowed as guilt reared inside her chest and her thoughts turned to her mother. With it came hurt, a deep sense of betrayal. She had a long road ahead and no idea how to navigate it right now.
They arrived at Ginny’s room. Through the ward window Angie caught sight of Maddocks standing by her bed. He too was wearing sweats. With him was a woman. Slender, tall. Blonde. “Wait,” Angie said. “Stop.”
She stared at the woman—extremely well dressed in tailored pants and a soft coral-colored jacket. Impeccably cut shoulder-length hair. She turned her head. Very attractive, classic profile. She looked to be in her early to mid forties.
“Who’s that?” Angie said.
“Mrs.Maddocks.”
She swallowed slowly. “What’s her name?”
“Sabrina.”
Angie watched the small family unit for a moment through the glass. Ginny, with her dark hair spread on her pillow—their daughter. The two parents, worried for their child. United in this tragedy. Sabrina Maddocks lifted her hand and placed it on Maddocks’s shoulder. He turned and looked down at her. Sabrina—his wife—not yet an ex-wife—reached up and gently wiped something from his eyes, then she leaned, kissed him on the cheek.
Angie’s stomach did a sickening somersault. Her hands firmed on the wheelchair armrests.
“Go,” she said to Holgersen. “Just go.”
“You sure you—”
“I said go, dammit. Now. Faster.”
“Jesus, Pallorino,” he said, pushing her speedily down the corridor.
“Stop. Right over there. Push me there—by those chairs, by the window.”
He acquiesced and brought her to a halt in a small seating alcove.
Her heart was hammering, and she hated that her body had reacted like this.
“You should have told me she was here.”
“I told yous it wasn’t best—”
Angie tried to stand, but dizziness slammed her back down into the chair. Her breaths were short.
