His expression immediately softened as he reached for a piece of scrap paper. “Sorry. My sister has lupus. She has bad days like that, too.” He scribbled the information onto the paper for her and handed it to her. “If you can wait a few minutes, I can have another bailiff escort you if you need it.”
She wanted to cry at his kind tone. She took the paper. “No, that’s okay.” She glanced at the paper and it made sense to her foggy brain. “This helps a lot. Thank you so much.”
He nodded. “Next.”
She found the elevators. She stood in line again, waiting, her heart racing.
I’m so close. So close to seeing them.
When the sudden sting of tears prickled her eyes, she stepped out of line and hurried into the women’s room across from the elevators. Locked into a stall, she cried for a few minutes.
Jeez, I’m even more emotional than usual.
She didn’t know if it was the stress, or her frustration, or the kindness in the bailiff’s tone that triggered her. She hated the crying jags almost as much as she hated the fibro fog. And they’d been happening a lot lately over the past couple of weeks.
Once she composed herself and washed her face in the sink, she returned to the elevators and waited. The ride up felt like an eternity. When she reached the fourth floor, she followed the instructions on the paper and ended up in front of the correct office.
After a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, she walked in. She had to wait for the receptionist at the front desk to finish with a call before she could talk to her.
“Hi, I’m here to see Allan Donohue, please.”
“I’m sorry, but he’s not in yet. Is he expecting you?”
Libbie struggled not to burst into tears right there. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of him not being in the office that time of morning. “Um, oh. Okay. Do you know when he’ll be in?”
“He’s due in at any time. He’s usually here by now.”
“May I wait for him?”
The phone rang again. Instead of responding to Libbie, she pointed to a waiting area in the corner and answered the phone.
Despondent, Libbie walked over to the waiting area and took a seat.
* * * *
Allan answered his work cell on the first ring without looking. “Donohue.”
“It’s me,” Ben said. “No luck.”
“Dammit.” He sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. He hated his hair long and shaggy.
And blond.
Damn
, he hated the blond.
“I’m on my way to the office now,” Ben said. “I should be there in about forty.”
“So what do we do?”
“I’ve already called Grover back. He hasn’t heard from her. He keeps getting her voice mail when he tries her cell, too. I’ve already tried calling both her regular cell and the disposable.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t have a fucking answer, okay? Let me get back there and we’ll talk about it and figure it out.”
Allan hung up and fought the urge to throw the cell phone against the wall. If anything happened to Libbie, he’d never forgive himself.
We should have been there for her. Fuck this goddamned trial.
He needed to get up, to walk around.
Coffee.
He headed out of the office and down the hall to the break room.
On his way back, he ran into the receptionist from the front desk. “Oh, there’s a woman waiting to see Allan. Do you know when he’ll be in or should I just have her keep waiting?”
“He’s going to be a while.” He had several witness statements to go over today, but he’d thought the first one wasn’t coming in until well after lunch. “Send her back. I’ll talk to her.”
“Okay.”
He returned to the office and took his seat behind the desk. At least it would be something to keep his mind occupied and off Libbie. He didn’t even look up from his laptop and the e-mail he was replying to when he sensed the woman step into the doorway. “Please come in and close the door behind you.”
It was the sound of a soft sob that jerked his head up. Libbie looked two seconds from a complete breakdown. He jumped up from his chair and ran over to her, shoving the door shut and snapping the lock before pulling her into his arms. “Baby! Oh my god, we’ve been so worried about you! Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
“I…I wanted to see you…I’m sorry… I just…It kept roaming and missing calls and it died and I forgot it at the hotel and I needed a cab and I—” Her words dissolved into unintelligible sobs.
He sat with her on the sofa, consoling her, rocking her in his arms with his face buried in her hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m just glad you’re okay.” After a couple of minutes, she took a few deep, hitching breaths. “What’s that about a cab?” he asked. “What happened to your car?”
With her face pressed against his chest, she told him about her trip and her flare.
When she finished, he let out a sigh of relief. “We were so scared something had happened to you.”
“I’m sorry. I really needed to see you.” Fresh tears followed. He didn’t have the heart to get up and grab his cell and disturb her in the process.
“Where are you staying? We need to get you back there.”
“I’m…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide in shock as she started crying again. “I don’t remember! It was so late last night and I was so tired…”
“Shh.” He started rocking her again, this time with his face pressed into her hair to hide the amused chuckle he desperately wanted to unleash. But in her fragile emotional state, she likely wouldn’t understand. He knew it was the fibro, but who the frak forgot where their hotel was? When their car and luggage and everything was there, too?
He had a thought. “Do you have a receipt from check-in?”
She sat up. “Oh. Yeah.” She grabbed her purse and dug through it, handing it to him.
He read it. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up and I’m going to take you back there.”
“Are you mad at me?”
He cupped her cheeks with his palms and kissed her, slowly, gently. “No, I’m not mad. Scared and upset and worried, yes. Well, I was. Now that I know you’re safe, no. But we need to get you out of here right now. I can’t let anyone else see you here.”
“What about Ben?”
“I’ll call him when we’re in the car.” He stood, grabbed his laptop and slammed it shut, and shoved it and his cell into his messenger bag, which he slung over his shoulder. He grabbed her purse then held his hand out to her. “Come on. We need to go right now.”
He led her through the back hallways and out to the parking garage. He hurried her to the car and opened the passenger door for her. He only stopped to grab his cell from the messenger bag before dumping it in the backseat. Then he started the car and headed out.
He was halfway to her hotel when he finally reached Ben. “She’s safe.”
“What? Did you get hold of her?”
They were stopped at a red light. He looked at where she was slumped in the passenger seat with her eyes closed. “She’s right here.”
“What? At the office?”
“No. In the car.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass.”
“I’m not, dude. We’re in the car and heading for her hotel.” He read off the address. “Get your ass over there.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“Look, we’ll talk when you get to the hotel. She’s in room…” He gently nudged her leg with his free hand.
She looked horrified. “I don’t remember.” A fresh round of tears started again.
“Did they write it on your keycard envelope?”
“Oh.” She sniffled and started rummaging through her purse again. “I did. I forgot I did that. Thanks.” She pulled the card envelope out. “302.”
“302. See you in a few.” He hit
end
, cutting Ben off in mid-rant. Setting the phone in the center console, he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured her, hoping he could make it all okay for her.
He’d forgotten all about Ben’s safety procedures at the sight of her tears. It broke his heart that they’d done this to her when she already had so much to deal with on a daily basis. That she’d driven down to see them and they’d caused her even more pain and distress by not being where they’d said they’d be.
That she couldn’t even pick up a phone to call them when she just needed to hear their voices.
He took the keycard from her and held her hand all the way up to her room. He put out the Do Not Disturb sign, flipped the dead bolt and security latch, and stretched out with her on the bed, holding her as she crashed into sleep in his arms.
Allan was almost ready to fall asleep when the pounding on the door startled him. Libbie stirred at the sound. He carefully untangled himself from her and looked through the peephole before unlocking the door for Ben.
When Ben raced in, Allan shushed him and pointed to Libbie asleep on the bed. He locked the door while Ben hurried to her side. She slowly opened her eyes when he sat next to her on the bed and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
“Hey,” he softly said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay.”
* * * *
Ben stretched out next to her, relief flooding him and temporarily shoving all thoughts of Bianco out of his head. As she snuggled in his arms, he inhaled her scent deeply, reassuring himself that she was truly safe. Until Allan had called him he’d struggled with horrible thoughts of never finding her, of something awful happening to her without him ever getting to see her again.
Or tell her one last time how much he loved her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
Her tiny voice ripped at his heart. “I’m okay.”
“Bullshit,” Allan said. “She’s not okay. She’s in a horrible flare. She can’t drive back to Brooksville like this.”
“Tell us the truth.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have come. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
He pulled her close again. “Shh, it’s done. You’re here, and no, I’m not happy you put yourself at risk, but I am happy to see you. You have no idea how much we’ve missed you.”
That seemed to quiet her.
“Now the truth. Tell us what’s wrong.”
She listed what he’d expected, the pain, weakness, lethargy. “Worse, I think the naproxen’s making my stomach upset so I stopped taking it.”
“Why?” Allan asked as he sat on the other side of the bed.
“I keep feeling queasy in the mornings. It got a little better when I stopped taking it.”
Ben felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Queasy?”
“Just a little. Not bad.” She snorted. “The gift of fibro, symptoms that come and go and no clue if it’s related to fibro or anything normal.”
When he met Allan’s gaze, his brother’s eyes looked as wide and filled with shock as his own.
“Baby, when was your last period?” Allan asked.
“What?”
“Are you late?” Ben asked.
“I’m…” She sat up, her brow scrunched as she tried to think. “I don’t know. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been irregular off and on the past year or so. The doctor said I might be going into early menopause.”
“How long have you been queasy?” Allan asked.
“Just the past couple of…” Her eyes widened as she finally boarded their train of thought and handed the conductor her ticket. “No!” She shook her head. “No. I can’t be.”
“How late are you?” Ben asked again.
“I don’t know. But we used condoms.”
“They’re not perfect,” Allan said.
“Where’s the closest drugstore?” Ben asked Allan.
“I saw a Walgreens a couple of blocks down.” He stood. “I’ll go.”
“Go where?” she asked.
He leaned in and kissed her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.” He glanced up at Ben. “Come lock the door after me.”
When they were alone again, Ben removed his jacket and tossed it on the other bed, then removed his gun and holster and placed them on top of the jacket, followed by his shirt and bulletproof vest before rejoining her.
She looked shell-shocked. “I can’t be pregnant,” she said as she crumbled into his arms again. “I just can’t. We used condoms.”
Except for how upset she was, he would have laughed. “Sweetie, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s
not
okay.”
That set his worry off. “Why? You don’t want kids?”
“I can’t do this alone!”
He made her look at him. “You are
not
alone. You have both of us.”
“You’re here in Miami. Plus I was taking the naproxen. What if…” She buried her head against his chest again. She didn’t cry out loud, but he could tell from the irregular rise and fall of her chest and her frequent sniffling that she was crying.
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have words. Instead, he opted to call Grover and tell him she was safe and sound, but that he didn’t have time to talk to go into details.