by Chris Taylor
And he hadn’t said a word.
Shoving the iPad in Angie’s direction, Sam slammed her palm against her desk. The impact stung, but she barely felt it. Rage and hurt and remorse and regret all rushed through her head in a kaleidoscope of emotions until she didn’t know where to turn. Snatching up her phone, she once again dialed Rohan’s number.
As before, the call went through to voicemail. All of a sudden, it made sense why he hadn’t returned her calls. The coward had known that sooner or later she’d discover what he’d done and then things would get ugly. He was right on that score.
“You asshole!” she sobbed into the phone. “You knew and you didn’t say a word! How could you? You blinded me with declarations of love and all the while you were planning to arrest my brother! You’re despicable! I hate you! I never want to see you again!”
She stabbed at the button to end the call and then threw the phone back onto her desk. She was so angry she wanted to put her fist through the wall, but what would that accomplish? She’d be left with a bruised and bleeding hand and Rohan would still go on his merry way. He was probably even now laughing at her as he locked her brother up in jail.
No, that wasn’t fair. The Rohan she knew wouldn’t be so cruel, but it still didn’t change the fact he’d known what was going to happen and he’d kept it from her.
Was it a trust thing? Is that why he hadn’t told her? Because he thought she might tip off her brother and help him disappear? Did he really think she’d condone illegal behavior? Particularly, behavior as abhorrent as what she suspected Alistair had done. The thought didn’t make her feel any better. If anything, it made her feel worse. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen in love with a man who thought she was capable of such conduct.
Despite the time they’d spent together, growing closer by the day, it was obvious he didn’t know her at all. After everything that had happened, now she’d lost Rohan, too. With a gasp and another sob, Sam dropped her head to her desk and cried like her heart had broken in two.
* * *
Rohan stared at his phone where it sat on his old kitchen table and tried for the hundredth time to find the courage to return Samantha’s call. After his stressful day he was totally spent, but it didn’t seem to matter. His brain wouldn’t let up on the images of her shouting and sobbing at him into the phone. Her parting words hurt most of all.
Of course, he’d told himself over and over to expect her to react that way. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. But somehow, he’d clung to the foolish hope that she’d realize he was only doing his job; that she knew him well enough to accept that he’d never arrest her brother if he didn’t have hard evidence of Alistair’s guilt; that she cared enough for Rohan to forgive him.
But it appeared those hopes were as substantial as a pile of ashes blown about in a stiff breeze. She said she hated him and she never wanted to see him again.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed away from the table and thought about finding something to eat. He’d skipped breakfast and lunch and all of a sudden, his belly reminded him he was hungry. Opening up cupboards, he found a tin of tomato soup and emptied the contents into a dish. He put it in the microwave to heat and when it was done, grabbed a spoon from the drawer and sat down at the table to eat.
The first mouthful had barely hit his tongue when his phone began to ring. His pulse jumped. His thoughts flew to Samantha. He hardly dared to look at the screen. When he did, his heart plummeted with disappointment. It was his mother. He thought about letting the call go through to voicemail and then changed his mind. It wasn’t her fault his life had turned to shit.
“Hi, Mom,” he said in the lightest tone he could manage. He was met with silence. Frowning, he opened his mouth to speak again and it was then that he heard the sob. Concern immediately rushed to the fore.
“Mom? What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Oh, Rohan! It’s your father! He… He’s asleep in the armchair. I can’t wake him up! I… I think he might be dead!”
Rohan’s blood ran cold and fear clutched at his heart. “Stay where you are and call an ambulance. I’m on my way.” Tossing the bowl of soup down the drain, he snatched his wallet and keys from the table and headed for the door.
Dinner would have to wait.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rohan sped through the night with lights and siren blaring and prayed desperately his dad was all right. For months, he’d been worried about his mom and all along… He shook his head, still in shock. Cursing at yet another red light, he eased his way through the pack. It was at times like this he wished he lived closer to his parents. With the heavy traffic, even with the aid of the lights and siren, it would take him the best part of half an hour to reach home.
He’d barely finished the thought when his phone rang again. He checked the screen and tensed. “Hi, Mom, I’m on my way. Just stay there and try and keep calm. Has the ambulance arrived?”
“They’ve taken him away, Rohan! They’ve taken him away!”
“Where, Mom? Where have they taken him?” He held his breath and prayed that she wouldn’t say the morgue.
“To the Sutherland Hospital.”
“Okay. Where are you now?”
“I’m following them. They told me to hurry.”
He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out and tried to get his panic under control. “Drive carefully, Mom, and watch where you’re going. I don’t want both of you in the hospital.”
“I will, son.”
“I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. Have you called any of the others?”
“No, there wasn’t time. I had to leave. I had to follow your dad. They told me to hurry.” Her voice cracked on the last word and Rohan’s gut tightened in agony. He stepped on the gas and wove in and out of the traffic like the devil was on his tail. He needed to call his brothers and sisters, but that would have to wait. Most of them lived hours away, so it wasn’t like they could get there anytime soon, even if this were really serious.
Denial, fierce and hot, burned through him and he wanted to howl out his pain. His father was fit as a fiddle, in the prime of his life. He’d never had a day off sick. It wasn’t fair that this had happened. It just wasn’t fair his father was now fighting for his life.
How would his mother cope if his father was no longer around? She relied on her husband for so many things—things Rohan hadn’t even thought of. And then there was the emotional hole her husband’s dying would leave in her heart. They’d spent more years together than they had apart. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to lose the love of your life.
He thought about the pain he felt after he’d listened to the message from Samantha. It was like his heart had been ripped out and they hadn’t even officially been together as a couple in the world. He shuddered to think how much worse it would be for his mother.
Forcing the terrible thoughts aside, he concentrated hard on thinking positive. His father was obviously still alive. Paramedics didn’t rush to the hospital with a corpse. He had to believe his father would pull through and that his morbid thoughts were simply an overreaction.
It was no surprise his mind was all over the place. He’d started the morning in Samantha’s bed after a magical night with her in his arms. All the while, he’d been weighed down by the knowledge that it would likely be over between them before the next day was out. He never imagined his father would fall ill, once again turning Rohan’s life upside down.
Thinking of Samantha and how much she meant to him made him yearn to give her a call. He desperately needed her support and comfort for whatever lay ahead. He swung into the car park of the Sutherland Hospital and quickly pulled to a stop. Across the way, he saw an ambulance outside the Emergency Department with its back doors wide open. He glanced around for his mother’s car, but it was nowhere in sight. He took off at a jog.
A moment later, he burst through the automatic doors that opened up into the ED. His gaze fell on his mother. She sat in a
hard plastic chair hunched over with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the weight of her distress. He made his way over to her and touched her gently on the arm. Her head snapped up. When she saw him, she crumpled over again.
Sitting down beside her, he threw his arm around her and gathered her to his side. Tears continued to pour down her cheeks.
“Oh, Rohan! They won’t tell me what’s happening! All I know is that he’s been taken away!”
“Where, Mom?”
“To the operating theater.”
“Did they tell you why?”
“No, but they mentioned something about a bleed. I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t know if he’s dead or alive! Nobody will tell me anything!”
She sobbed harder and Rohan did his best to comfort her with murmured words. Inside, he was just as distraught. Gently, he disengaged his arm from around her and propped her up against the chair.
“I’m going to talk to one of the nurses, Mom. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
She merely nodded, as if any other response was beyond her. Torn between reluctance to leave her alone and needing to obtain information, he slowly walked away. A nurse with shiny blond hair and a kind smile acknowledged him as he walked up to the counter.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m Rohan Coleridge. I’m asking about my dad, Bill Coleridge. He was brought in by ambulance not long ago and was apparently rushed to surgery. Do you know anything about his condition?”
The nurse regarded him seriously. “Yes, he’s been taken to the operating theater. They’re trying to save his life.”
At her solemn words, Rohan’s heart sank like a stone to the bottom of his chest. A part of him rejoiced that his father was still alive, but it terrified him to realize the situation was so grave. He forced himself to continue. “Do you know what happened?”
“I understand he’s suffered a brain aneurysm. It’s a bleed on the brain,” she added.
The words bounced around inside Rohan’s head. “A bleed on the brain.” It sounded bad. “Is he… Is he going to be all right?”
The nurse’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, but that’s all the information I have.”
Rohan’s nod was curt, but he understood the nurse’s position. She didn’t know what the hell was going on in the theater.
“Is there somewhere closer to the operating room where we can wait?”
“Yes. Go down to Level Two. Turn to your left as you step out of the elevator. You’ll find a waiting room down the hall.”
“Can you let the theater staff know where they can find us?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll phone down there now.”
“Thank you,” Rohan said and meant it. Then he turned on his heel and strode back to his mom. Taking her by the hand, he gently pulled her to her feet.
“Come on, Mom. I’ve found out where they’ve taken Dad. Let’s go.”
Matching his steps to her much slower ones, Rohan tried hard to curb his impatience. He wanted to race through the corridors, shouting for someone to take him to his dad, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. Instead, they found the elevator and punched in the button for the second level.
A moment later, the doors slid open and he and his mother stepped out. It was cool and quiet and there didn’t seem to be another soul around. He guessed that all of the theater staff were busy in the operating rooms. He only hoped someone would come out and find them and give them an update before he was driven mad.
The phone in his pocket chirped and he tugged it out and checked the screen. It was a text from his boss congratulating him and Bryce on the good work they’d done that day. Ignoring the message he went to put his phone away and then once again thought of Samantha. It would be nice to have her here with him, adding support. Yesterday, he’d been sure they loved each other enough that she’d want to be by his side in times of distress. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
With a sigh, he found the waiting room and settled his mom in a comfortable chair. Coming to a decision, he excused himself and left the room. He dialed Samantha’s number before he changed his mind and then paced the corridor, waiting for her to answer. When the call went through to voicemail, hot tears burned behind his eyes.
“It’s me. I… I just wanted to let you know I’m at the Sutherland Hospital. My dad’s suffered a brain aneurysm. He’s in surgery now. We not sure if…” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. “We’re not sure if he’s going to pull through.”
Biting his lip against another surge of emotion, he ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he made his way back to his mother and the task of calling family members with the sad news.
* * *
Sam heard her phone ring and a few moments later, it beeped, indicating the caller had left a message. She had left work immediately after watching the YouTube video and had headed straight to her mom’s. It would only be a matter of time before Enid Wolfe saw Alistair’s arrest on the news and Sam wanted to tell her before she found out that way.
Telling her was one of the most difficult things Sam had ever done. Her mom stared at her in shock and confusion and then collapsed in a fit of distress. “I don’t understand how the police could think Alistair capable of something like this!” she cried.
Sam thought back to the last conversation she’d had with her brother and remained silent. She didn’t want to believe he’d done it, either, but she was terrified it might be true. He’d as much as admitted to forging signatures on consent forms and she knew Rohan well enough to know he was a good cop. He would never have acted rashly, without substantial proof.
A fresh wave of anger and helplessness washed over her. Why, oh, why did it have to be Alistair? A brother she admired and respected and loved with all her heart. She wanted so desperately to believe it was all some horrible mistake; that someone else was to blame. Perhaps Richard was the brains behind it? From what she’d seen and heard, her boss was most definitely involved.
She thought about the angry confrontation she’d interrupted between her brother and her boss. Alistair had been furious; Richard looked scared and appeared to be doing his best to pacify him. Their body language spoke volumes. No matter how much Sam wanted to believe otherwise, it was obvious her brother was the one in charge. Rohan must know it, too.
So why had she treated him so badly, ranting at him over the phone? He was only doing his job. Along with Hannah, Sam had been the one who’d drawn the whole terrible situation to the attention of the police. Then, when the investigation hadn’t panned out the way she hoped it would, she’d laid the blame squarely on Rohan. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d have reacted so angrily if the alleged perpetrator had been anyone other than her brother. It shamed her to admit the answer was no.
With a sigh, she stood and moved across the living room to retrieve her phone from where she’d left it on the coffee table. There was no doubt about it: She owed Rohan an apology. Glancing at the screen, she noticed she’d missed his call. Keying into her mailbox, she listened to his message.
A second later, she gasped. Her heart went into double time as images raced through her head. His father was gravely ill; possibly dying. She had to go and be with him; to offer comfort and support to the man she loved. Turning to face her mother, Sam opened her mouth to tell her she was leaving and then closed it again. Enid was in no state to be left alone. Panic tightened Sam’s chest until all of a sudden, she came up with an easy solution.
Dialing her sister’s number, she waited for Ava to pick up.
“Have you heard?” her sister said by way of greeting.
Sam drew in a breath and eased it out. “Yes. I’m just as shocked as you.”
“I can’t believe it! It’s all over the news! The police must have gotten it wrong! There’s no way Alistair could be guilty of what they’re saying.”
“We need to talk, and Jessie, too
, but right now, I need a favor.” Sam explained her situation and was relieved when Ava agreed to come over and sit with their mom. She lived only a short distance away and it wasn’t long before Sam’s sister arrived at the house. They greeted each other with fierce hugs.
“Thanks for doing this, sis. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not sure, but it might take all night. Are you all right with that?”
Ava pointed to an overnight bag by her feet. “I came prepared. I figured you’d want to stay with your friend as long as he needed you and you could do without having to worry about Mom and whether she was okay.”
Tears burned behind Sam’s eyes and she swallowed a lump that had lodged itself in her throat. Hugging her sister again, she led her into the living room to their mother.
“Mom, there’s been an emergency at the hospital. I have to go. Ava’s come to stay with you. Is that all right?”
Enid looked up from her position on the couch and nodded vaguely. “Will you come back?”
“As soon as I can, I promise.” Kissing her mom on the cheek, she collected her handbag and hurried toward the front door. With a last hug and a whispered thank you to Ava, Sam left.
* * *
The hard plastic chair dug into Rohan’s butt, but he was beyond caring about the discomfort. With his forearms on his thighs and his head in his hands, he stared at the worn linoleum floor of the waiting room. It felt like hours since he and his mom had arrived at the hospital, with fear and panic in their hearts. He’d called his brothers and sisters. Shocked and tearful, they were all on their way to the hospital. For some of them, it involved a twelve-hour drive, but every one of his siblings had expressed their desire to be there; to see their dad; to lend their support, no matter the outcome.
As far as Rohan knew, his father was still in surgery. Nobody had come near them to tell them any different. He tried hard to believe no news was good news, but his heart wasn’t buying it.