"You were worried about me."
"Yes, I was. I saw what Mitch did to you, and it scared the hell out of me. I thought I might lose you."
Contentment filled Cassidy. Adrenaline reserves began to fade, leaving her exhausted. She blinked sleepily. Soft lips moved against hers then Brenna pulled back.
"Now maybe we can both get some sleep."
"Will you stay?"
"I won't go anywhere. And when you wake up, Ryan should be here."
Chapter 15
"Max!" About to step back into Cassidy's CCU room, Brenna had her hands on the shoulders of a small boy. He recalled he was the blonde woman's son. Brenna smiled at Max then restrained the boy. "Just a minute, Ryan."
Max Brightman met her halfway. Though there was a weary grayness to her blue eyes, she smiled warmly and hugged him with energy. "Quite a stir," he commented.
"Everything's going to be fine soon," she replied.
Terry Brown walked over. "How are things on the set?" he asked Max.
"Shooting has restarted. Front office is all over, keeping the press mostly at bay. They wanted a status report on Cass."
"It's been a long night," Brenna answered. "I should have sent a report with Rachelle when she left." She smiled then. "But Cass has shown improvement even since then. She woke up around four-thirty, and the doctor thinks she'll make a full recovery over time."
"Encouraging," Max concluded.
Brenna shook her head.
"Very encouraging," she corrected with another smile. "I'm taking Ryan in to see her now." Brenna grasped Ryan's hand and stepped inside. Max started after her, only to feel a hand on his shoulder.
Terry shook his head. "They need time alone."
Max moved into the room but remained back, observing as Brenna watched over the reunion between mother and son. His friend of nearly twenty years had one hand lightly on Ryan's back and the other on Cassidy's shoulder.
"Someone's here to see you," she said quietly.
Taking his cue from Brenna, Ryan also spoke softly. "Mommy?"
"Ryan, hi." The voice was very tired, but even so, Cassidy was very happy to see her son.
Max watched Brenna bend over the railing to lightly kiss her forehead. Over the years of friendship, Max had seen Brenna at many hospital bedsides, and in many relationships.
It was clear to him that this was different; Brenna was different. It was in the way she met Cassidy's gaze; there was a directness in her expression that he hadn't seen for anyone else.
The younger woman's expression also was filled with pure devotion. There was no way he could see to interpret their connection other than that they were in love. While he had been flip with Brenna, he still hadn't been sure. He had even seen them at the play and been wary of believing it. But seeing Brenna with Ryan on her lap in the chair at the head of the bed, he finally believed. She was telling the boy about his mother's many bandages. Occasionally she kissed his cheek as she and Cassidy spoke.
"I'll take Ryan downstairs for breakfast while you sleep." , "You should...go to the studio," Cassidy replied, her voice washed out so Max had to read her lips to understand what she had said.
"When you're out of here, I'll go back to work. Not before," Brenna insisted. "Consider that incentive to get well, all right?"
"I really messed things up," Cassidy said sadly.
"No you didn't; Mitch did. I will make sure he pays for this as fully as possible."
The determination in Brenna's voice was to be expected, but not the underlying pain. Max had heard that specific mixture of determination and pain only once, back at the very beginning of their friendship.
"You will do no such thing."
A male voice accented from somewhere in the South or Midwest interrupted the quiet conversation. It came from almost on top of Max, and he stepped back to see a man and a woman standing in the doorway, both staring at the tableau around the bed.
Max watched Brenna stand up, set Ryan down by her legs, and turn to face the new visitors. She appeared to struggle a bit for composure before speaking. Still, her voice shook.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hockman." She nodded at each but her eyes darkened with anger and lingered on Cassidy's father. "I'm Brenna Lanigan. I've been with your daughter since the attack."
Max was taken aback by the amount of tension suddenly filling the room, and the very dark and dangerous look on the face of the older man. Before Max could speak though, Cassidy's father barked, "You've been with her longer than that! It ends now. Get out of my daughter's room."
Brenna kept her eyes on Cassidy's father, even as she held her place at Cassidy's bedside. "Mr. Hockman," she began. She paused, reconsidering her deference. They were all adults, and the stakes were high. "I have permission to be here," she concluded firmly.
"Not from me! Get out!"
Behind her, a small hand clutched at her pants. Brenna glanced down at Ryan, who was wrapping himself around her leg and staring up at his grandfather, wide-eyed with clear fear. Soothing the boy with a gentle touch along the side of his face, she found it easier to steady her own nerves. "No."
"You are not in charge here. I left orders who was allowed in, and you are not on that list. I will not have you influencing Cassidy."
"She has the right, and the ability, to make her own choices," Brenna replied evenly.
"Not in this. Not when she's my daughter."
"Is that why you struck her and drove her from your home? Because you're afraid of what her choices say about you? No one should live through their children that way." Brenna stepped back. "No one should control their family through fear."
"Holiness is only attainable through fear of God."
"You are not God, Mr. Hockman, and neither is your former son-in-law. God does not beat people to death." She gestured toward the bed, drawing the Hockmans' attention to their daughter. She was sure that when they saw what Mitch had done, they would not remain steadfast in their condemnation of Cassidy.
"What happened?" Sylvia tentatively stepped closer. "Oh, dear sweet Lord..." She looked to Brenna questioningly. "Can I?"
"Sylvia!" Mr. Hockman — Gerry, Brenna mentally corrected herself — sent a warning glare toward his wife.
Brenna took another step back from the bedside and gestured encouragement to Cassidy's mother. "Go ahead, Sylvia." She gambled by using the woman's first name. It got her a worried, uncertain look, but the woman did step forward, her gaze returning to Cassidy's face as she reached out and hesitantly touched the bandaged hand.
"Now you get out!" Gerry shouted, taking a step toward Brenna.
Brenna stood her ground and made herself very clear. "Lay a hand on me and you will not enjoy the consequences."
"Who did this to her?" Sylvia asked softly.
"I would have thought someone would have given you some of the details. Mitch did this to her. I arrived in time to stop him from doing worse." Sylvia frowned. "He's in jail awaiting a bond hearing. Didn't the studio explain when they called?"
"Gerry?"
Sylvia looked toward her husband and Brenna realized he had been the one to take the call. She directed her remarks to Cassidy's father. "Being selective with your facts, Gerry?"
He looked away. "She deserved it. No decent wife would want this acting more than she wanted her husband."
"No one deserves this." Brenna exhaled as she tried to keep her voice calm. "Damn it, no one!"
Cassidy awakened at the sound, and Brenna twisted quickly to stop her as she struggled to move.
"Cass, no." When Cass met her gaze with understanding and determination, it set Brenna's heart singing, despite the gravity of the situation. She adjusted the bed so Cassidy could face her father.
Cassidy exhaled carefully then begin to speak. "Would you prefer Mitch had killed me?" Sylvia's face went pale, but Gerry's expression only hardened at his daughter's breathy, pain-filled voice. She caught her breath and went on. "Sorry to disappoint you..." She had to stop and collect herself, tears wetting her cheeks at the a
mount of effort it took just to speak, "...again." Cassidy dropped her head back against the pillows.
Brenna's tears threatened to fall as she squeezed Cassidy's shoulder, offering what support she could.
"Go...away," Cassidy wheezed as her energy failed.
Ryan reached up and prodded his mother's arm, plaintively calling out, "Mommy?" Cassidy did not respond.
Brenna felt Cassidy's tremors fade away as her eyes closed in exhaustion and quickly checked the heart monitor for reassurance before turning back to Gerry.
Sylvia fell heavily into the bedside chair, covering her face with her hands. Gerry walked toward the bed and every muscle in Brenna's tensed as her body flooded with adrenaline. She took a step forward, placing herself between Cassidy and her father. Slowly, she straightened as Gerry stopped at the foot of the bed. He looked as unmoved as before, but Brenna thought perhaps there was a flicker of doubt in his lowered gaze. Perhaps if she left, gave them some time to think about what had happened between them, they would see what they had done was terribly wrong, regardless of their reasons for doing it.
"I'm taking Ryan down to the cafeteria for breakfast. Maybe by the time I return, you'll be ready to be reasonable."
She withstood the withering glare from Gerry with a neutral expression. Taking Ryan's hand, she noticed how he clung to her, watching his grandfather warily. She reassured him with a squeeze of his hand and led him out of the room.
In the corridor she went to the nurses station, greeting Cassidy's nurse with a terse smile. "She's sleeping, so we're going down to breakfast. Her parents are with her." Terry Brown reached her then. "Terry, would you stay please? I think Cassidy got through to them, but...just watch out for her?" He nodded, and she turned to go to the elevator. Max appeared alongside as they waited.
Wracked with tension, Brenna had forgotten he had briefly been in the CCU room with her, Cassidy, and Cassidy's parents. Now, she appreciated his quiet, steady presence. The elevator emptied into the lobby. One by one, milling reporters identified them and began circling.
Brenna held tight to Ryan, but probably need not have worried. Scared by the closing crowd shoving microphones in their faces and calling out questions, he clung to her.
She answered an update question with, "Her parents have arrived." She answered a status question with, "She's sleeping now." A few of the questions made her realize that her statement about their relationship had made it into entertainment press rooms around the country.
"When you return to shooting, will the characters be rewritten to reflect your changed relationship with Ms. Hyland?"
She stared at the questioner. "Excuse me?"
"Will the writers put Jakes in a romance with Hanssen?"
"I have no idea what the writers plan. Now, if you'll excuse us." She pushed past the reporter, only to be faced by another.
"Ms. Lanigan, does this mean your character will be coming out of the closet and admitting she's gay?"
Brenna groaned. "What Jakes does is her business, and Pinnacle's, not mine! Excuse me."
She shoved past the rest and entered the cafeteria. With everyone jostling for the perfect angle to take pictures, the media crowd could not immediately follow them through the narrow doorway.
Max stood with them in line, his jaw flexing with anger. "You're not going to get a moment's peace."
"It'll blow over. The media will figure out what's real and what isn't, and eventually leave us all alone. This is just sensationalism," she rationalized. "A star is beaten up by her ex-husband and they immediately assume jealous rage. So they have to figure out who he was jealous of."
"You are the one he was jealous of."
"No. Mitch is a chronic abuser. If it wasn't about me, it probably was about custody, but it could have been about anything else. He created excuses to do what he wanted." Looking at her buttered toast and coffee, Brenna closed her eyes.
"All right. Do you need me to stick around?"
"You probably should get back to the set. I'm sorry your time here during the shoot couldn't have been more pleasant."
"It has been good to see you, Bren."
"I'm glad you were here."
He put his hand behind her head and kissed her temple. "Me, too." He got to his feet, and she watched him walk away, pushing easily through the crowd of reporters because he simply did not interest them.
Turning back, she watched Ryan eating his scrambled eggs.
"Miss Lanigan?"
"Yes?"
"Will we go back to see Mommy?"
"After you've eaten," she assured him. He redoubled his efforts to eat quickly. "Slow down. You don't want to make yourself sick," she coaxed, pulling the fork away from his mouth and encouraging him to put it down for a moment. To give his body a chance to catch up with the food he'd already stuffed in it, she asked, "What would you like to get as a present for your Mom from the gift shop?"
"A toy motorcycle," he said with a smile.
"That sounds like it'd be more for you than for your Mom," she commented with a smile and a light ruffling of his hair. "How about some flowers or a picture frame?"
"Who would be in the picture?"
"I still have your mother's purse. Why don't we find a picture of you to leave with her after you go?"
"I can't stay?"
"We should get someone to take you away from this mess. You don't like the reporters, and unfortunately they aren't going away."
"Why do reporters ask so many questions?"
"That's their job. But we can avoid them sometimes."
"Okay." Calmed by the quiet talk, Ryan returned to finishing his meal.
When the pair returned to CCU, Brenna carried a vase of carnations and Ryan carried a small box. When they emerged on the floor, Ryan immediately spotted his grandfather talking with the doctor and stepped behind Brenna's leg. "It's all right," she assured him. "Let's just go see your mom."
Sylvia stood at Cassidy's bedside, looking more concerned than when Brenna had left. An oxygen mask had been pulled over Cassidy's bruised features and a fresh bandage covered her throat. "What happened?" Brenna asked, putting the flowers down on the rolling table.
Her voice barely audible, Sylvia answered, "They argued. She complained...her chest hurt."
Afraid that Cassidy had had another heart attack, Brenna asked heatedly, "What did the doctor say?" Sylvia frowned, but Brenna urged, "She almost died while I watched, Sylvia. Please tell me!" Cassidy's mother studied her, obviously conflicted. "Please?"
Perhaps it was a recognition that Brenna cared for Cassidy as much as she did, or just a way for Sylvia to reach out for support she needed. In any case, Sylvia finally nodded. "Her left lung had collapsed again. They revived her."
Brenna quickly went from alarm to relief. "Thank you," she breathed. Ryan climbed up onto the chair next to the table and opened the box, putting up the picture so his mother could see it when she woke. Brenna stepped back to let him work diligently on his own, arranging things as he wished.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sylvia watching her with puzzlement.
Reaching out, Brenna offered, "Don't go. I don't want to be in conflict with you."
"But it's a sin," Sylvia whispered, clearly shocked.
"We're not that different," Brenna insisted.
"You're a-"
"I'm a mother, too," Brenna interrupted firmly.
"You're shameless!"
"No, I'm not. I'm very ashamed of how I treated Cassidy when she first joined our cast."
"Your series caused her divorce!" Sylvia charged.
Brenna shook her head. "It probably saved her life. She had been keeping it all inside. Only one person even listened to her, and it wasn't me. I ignored her, too. You wouldn't believe her when she said Mitch was awful. You and I, we both left her to twist alone, until she had nowhere to turn."
Sylvia looked stunned. "She always sounded so sure of her choices."
"If she had admitted her mistake in marrying Mitch
, what would you have said?"
Sylvia's face froze then she frowned.
"How could you know?"
"Because I thought my mother would say terrible things when I made a horrible mistake as a young woman. Unlike Cassidy, I took the risk and told my mother. And she said the terrible, hurtful things that I thought she would. So I know it happens."
Brenna swallowed. The pain was still sharp. Years later, Brenna was sure her mother had ultimately showered her with love only because illness had taken away her memories of those earlier disappointments.
Feeling too vulnerable, Brenna walked away from Sylvia but could not leave the room. Cassidy needed her. Settling into another chair, she turned so Sylvia could not see her face.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Looking up, her muscles tensed, Brenna saw Gerry Hockman filling the doorway. "I told you to get out."
"Gerry," Sylvia called to him from Cassidy's bedside.
"What is it?" He sounded exasperated, but he crossed the room. Brenna suppressed an instinctive cringe as he passed her.
"What does the doctor say?" his wife asked.
"She can't be transported anywhere right now."
Brenna surged to her feet. "You can't be thinking—"
"She needs the best care."
"She'll get that here."
"She needs family around her."
"What about Ryan? He's her family, and he needs his mother."
"We're taking him with us."
"No, you're not!"
Gerry raised his fist at her. "You don't have any input here."
Damn, Brenna thought, taking a step backward. There has to be some other option.
Terry appeared, drawing all eyes to him at the doorway where he stood with a man at his side. Brenna recognized Paul Heath, who inclined his head toward her in silent greeting.
"Who the hell are you?" Gerry demanded.
"I'm Paul Heath, Patient Advocacy. I represent Ms. Hyland's and Ms. Lanigan's interests."
"You called in a lawyer?" Hockman asked her in shock.
"Not formally," she replied. "But I will."
"Since when do my rights as her father get questioned?"
"Ms. Hyland is an independent adult with her own rights. From what Mr. Brown told me, she had already conveyed her wishes that she not be removed from this hospital," Heath answered calmly.
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