by Lori Ryan
Her father glanced at the door and understanding seemed to dawn on his face. “Ah. He meant well.” He walked to the couch and sat, and Mia noticed his leg for the first time. The man outside had an artificial limb, she realized and wondered if he was also a veteran. Maybe that was the connection between the two men.
“You didn’t want to be found, did you?” She didn’t know why she was pushing this. Why the hell she wanted to hear him say it.
Mia had never thought of herself as a glutton for punishment. She was independent and strong. Just like her mom was. Just like her mother had taught her to be. So why did she feel like a child begging to hear her father tell her he loved her. That he wanted her?
“It’s just better this way. Better if we don’t—” He didn’t finish, just waved a hand as if that explained it all.
Mia nodded, feeling a painful lump in her throat. “You’re right. It’s better this way.” She glanced around, not knowing what else to say. “I just came to tell you to stop sending money.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything as she walked out the door.
Mia jumped when she heard Jax speak the second she shut the door.
“If you really only wanted to tell him to stop sending money, you wouldn’t have come all the way here. Twice.”
She spun and saw Jax push himself away from the wall where he’d clearly heard her conversation with her dad. Her heart slammed in her chest and she didn’t think it was just the startle response of him catching her off guard. The man had an intensity to him that caught and shook her. But that didn’t change the anger she felt as she realized he’d listened to every humiliating second of her short talk with her dad.
“Do you always listen in on private conversations?” She couldn’t believe the nerve of him. He looked wholly unapologetic as he stepped toward her, as if he had every right to listen in on her. To judge her and call her out on why she was here.
“Do you always avoid tough conversations?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t help but raise her chin at him. “When they involve people who have no business being involved.”
Jax stepped closer but she took a step backward, needing to keep space between herself and this man.
“He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
Ha! What a joke. “You’ve got things backwards here, mister.”
“Not from where I’m standing. By my count, you’ve come down here twice. The first time might not count because he didn’t see you, but this time you got him involved and now you’re running off the first time he says boo to you. Either you want him in your life or you need to walk away and not come back this time.”
“He told me to leave.”
“Don’t you know squat about how people work?”
Mia felt like he’d slapped her. No. She guessed she wasn’t very good with people. She didn’t say anything and the man continued.
“He sent you away because he’s hurting. If you come back, you need to be sure it’s for good next time.”
“Screw you.” She spun and walked away. Leaving and not coming back was what she had in mind.
Chapter 5
Jax let himself into Leo’s apartment and found him sitting on the couch staring at the door. His pallor was still gray, and there was no way in hell Jax was going to take more excuses. He needed to see a doctor.
“That was pretty heavy. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Leo shrugged. “She hasn’t been in my life since she was three. I didn’t have any hope she would be now.”
Jax thought about apologizing for putting Leo’s return address on the envelope, but didn’t. He wasn’t sure it was a bad thing for a man to see his child after all those years. He didn’t know if Leo had noted it, but the woman looked like she’d made something of herself.
She had the look of someone who took great care in their appearance, even wearing a nice sweater and pressed pants on the weekend. Not exactly Jax’s thing, but she looked nice. Maybe it would do Leo good to see that, to know his daughter wasn’t struggling.
He picked up the worn out fishing vest Leo had dropped on the couch and tossed it at his friend. The pockets were stuffed with everything from keys to wallet to pill bottles. Leo took whatever he needed with him everywhere he went.
“Come on. We’re going to the clinic.”
Leo didn’t argue. Hell. That meant he felt as crappy as he looked.
Two hours later, Jax sat in the cramped waiting room of the clinic attached to New Haven’s homeless shelter and scrolled through emails on his phone. He didn’t usually work on a Sunday, but he didn’t have anything else to do while he waited. At least not if he wanted to keep his mind off Mia Kent.
He’d stupidly been wondering if she was okay since she’d left Leo’s earlier. As much as he didn’t want her toying with Leo’s emotions, he had seen the look on her face when she’d left. These visits were ripping her open. Even so, it was stupid for him to be worrying about a woman he didn’t know.
So, he turned to work to try to keep thoughts of her at bay. It wasn’t working all that well. She kept waltzing through his mind, the hurt and anger in her eyes making him want to reach out and hold her.
What the hell was that about?
Jax shook his head and brought himself back to the here and now. One wall of the waiting room held plaques thanking their donors. Jax’s eyes scanned down the Premier Donors:
Simms Pharmaceutical
Branson Medical
Tyvek Technologies
The Victoria Tyvek Staunton Memorial Foundation.
He wondered what it took to become a Premier Donor and how much more than the other donors they had donated. The clinic building was clean and neat, but it was small. Every ounce of space seemed to be in use. Maybe they should ask those Premier Donors to pay for an addition to the building.
The waiting room was packed with people waiting to see a doctor. He guessed that’s why the clinic was open seven days a week. There didn’t seem to be a shortage of people who needed them. Sadly, he knew it was just the opposite. They had more people needing services than they had resources, but from what he knew this clinic was fairly well funded by private donations and volunteers.
Leo could have gone to the VA hospital, but he’d lost his trust in the military a long time ago. Connecticut had begun an enormous undertaking in the past year to bring veteran homelessness to something called functional zero. Jax remembered reading about it, but couldn’t remember all the specifics of what qualified as functional zero. For some reason, it didn’t mean there were zero homeless veterans on the streets.
Despite the state’s recent efforts, for some like Leo, the trust had been lost a long time ago and it wasn’t something he’d give back readily. Jax couldn’t blame him. The government simply didn’t take care of the men and women who had served for them the way they should. There was just no arguing the point. Leo wasn’t going to go near the VA.
One of the doors opened and Leo and the familiar round face and balding head of Dr. Coleman stepped into the waiting area. Jax had met the doctor on previous visits with Leo.
Leo was stuffing a prescription bottle into one of his never-ending pockets as he nodded at something the doctor said to him.
Jax stood as the two approached. The doctor began to turn toward the front reception desk, but Leo called out to him. “Hey, Doc, do I keep taking that other stuff, too?”
The doctor glanced around them and Jax had to stifle a laugh at the look of shock on the man’s face. Leo had no sense of privacy or the need to keep his medical details to himself. The doctor’s mind was probably shifting through all the HIPAA violations.
“No. These should replace your other medication.” He nodded curtly and walked away.
“All set?” Jax asked as Leo patted his pockets, doing inventory.
“Yeah. Got some pills. Should feel better in a day or two, he says.”
Jax didn’t ask for details as they left the clinic, but he hoped the doctor wa
s right.
* * *
Dr. Mark Coleman waited impatiently for the man to pick up. The nurse poked her head into his office and he had to swallow the urge to snap at her.
“Doctor, we’ve got Dena Miller in room three for you and there’s an Allan Sykes here to drop something off. He says he needs to see you personally to have you sign for it.”
“I need two minutes, Carol,” he said turning his back on her as the phone continued to ring, unanswered. Sykes was the last person he wanted to see now.
“Yes, doctor,” she said.
He heard the click of his office door shutting as the call connected.
“What do you want, doctor?” The voice was impatient and Coleman was struck again by the strength behind it. He never expected the older man to sound so young.
“I want out.” Coleman lowered his voice even though his door was shut. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, undoing the top button. “Leo Kent was just here, presenting with the same symptoms as the others.”
“Did you give him the increased dose?”
“Do you even care about what’s going to happen to that man?” Coleman hissed into the phone, watching the door to his office. This was crazy. The researcher didn’t seem to care about the obvious pattern that was forming. The man was insane.
“Of course I care. If I didn’t think increasing the dosage would alleviate the risk, I wouldn’t have you do it. I’ve tested this in the lab. The problem was caused by too little of the drug, not by the drug itself.”
He injected just enough concern into his voice that most other people would buy it, but Coleman got the distinct feeling there wasn’t a thread of truth behind it. He had no idea what the man’s true purpose was, but he had begun to doubt everything he’d been told. He no longer believed they were working to save people at this point, and the thought made him sick.
Coleman didn’t understand how this man could remain so calm when talking about the death of other human beings. He didn’t have it in him to be that callous. “I’m done. I want—”
“I don’t think you understand, Dr. Coleman. I don’t care what you want. You no longer have a choice.” All hint of concern—false or otherwise—was gone now. Nothing but coldness remained.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t need to ask the question. He knew exactly what it meant. The man had been playing him from the start. How he hadn’t seen that earlier, he really didn’t know.
“You and I both know what it means. You can’t afford to walk away from this. I’ll stop making payments and you’ll be left trying to pay off your gambling debt without me. Do you really think that’s wise? What do you think will happen to your family when you stop making payments?”
Coleman fell into his chair and let his head fall back. The people he owed money to would come after him, after his family. There was no doubt in his mind.
“I’ll take that chance,” he said, knowing he had to stop this. Maybe he could take his wife and daughter and go somewhere no one would find them. Start over. Only how did you start over when your livelihood depended on using your medical license? It’s not like he could make a living without it, and if he used his license, they’d track him wherever he went.
There was one thing he’d figured out. The Gianelli family didn’t let you walk away from a debt. He looked down at his hand, where a nasty scar showed the evidence of what happened when you were late with payments.
“No, you won’t,” came the voice on the other end of the call. “Mr. Sykes should be there soon with another delivery. Now, just increase the dosage on anyone that comes through your door and send the data I’m paying you for.”
He didn’t wait for a response, and Coleman didn’t offer one. He laid his phone down on his desk and closed his eyes.
What the hell have I done?
Chapter 6
Leo blinked as he looked into eyes he’d fallen in love with thirty-one years earlier. He’d fallen for her eyes first, and not long after, for the woman herself.
In thirty-one years, her eyes hadn’t changed, and neither had his feelings for her. He’d once thought they would dull with time. No. That was wrong. He’d hoped they would dull with time.
“Lynn. I didn’t expect … I’m sorry, I uh—” Leo stepped back into his apartment, opening the door wider to let his wife—former wife—in. The instant he did it, he thought better of it, realizing how his place must look. Its size was only the first of the issues. He normally kept the place squared away and cleaned up, but with how his health had been, the sheets on the bed were a crumpled mess, and he had glasses and a dish with dried out toast lying on the side table.
Pride could be a nasty bitch. He’d lost his pride a long time ago, but somehow the thought of what Lynn must think of him still stabbed at him.
She entered and glanced around, looking as nervous to be there as he felt to have her there. “Leo,” was all she said and the voice took him back, washing him with emotions he couldn’t name, much less handle.
He gestured to the couch, choosing to pretend the messy bed in the corner didn’t exist. “I, uh, I guess Mia told you where I was.”
“She did.” Her eyes assessed him but he couldn’t read her thoughts. The politeness in her tone just about slayed him. “Have you been here long?”
“In New Haven? Yeah. About, uh, ten years.” He sat on the arm of the chair giving her the space her body language seemed to scream for. She perched on the edge of the couch looking for all the world like she might change her mind and bolt any second.
He could see her questions but she didn’t press. He offered the information anyway. Getting sober had taught him there was no point in holding back or hiding things. It didn’t get you anywhere but down.
“I spent a lot of years on the street, moving around the country. A little time in Florida, down in Texas. I came back this way ten years ago, but I wasn’t sober until five years back.” He looked her dead in the eye so she could see the truth in his words. “I haven’t had a drop to drink in five years. Didn’t get off the streets until a few months ago when a good friend helped me with this place.” He glanced around again. “It’s small, but it works for me.”
She nodded and clutched at her bag in her lap.
“For what it’s worth, Lynn, I am sorry.” The words seemed limp as they dangled in the air between them. Worthless words that couldn’t do a damned thing to erase the wrongs he’d done to her.
She raised her head at that and a look of sorrow marred the beautiful features of her face. She was still so stunningly gorgeous, she took his breath away. There was a strength to her he’d always been drawn to, and her eyes seemed to speak directly to his soul.
When the silence stretched he asked the question he’d been dreading. “Did you remarry?” A deep part of him wanted her to have found happiness, even if it wasn’t with him, but an uglier part roared at the idea of her with another man. How stupid and selfish was that?
“Almost. It didn’t work out.” She paused before diving ahead. “For a long time, I tried to forgive you for what happened. I struggled with it, knowing I needed to let it go. To let you go.”
God, he didn’t want to hear, this, but he owed her that.
She shook her head at him, the corners of her lips lifting in a sad smile. “One day, I realized, I wasn’t trying to forgive you for what happened that night. I was trying to forgive you for giving up. For leaving instead of fighting to find the man you were, to find the love we’d once had. To find us again.”
He couldn’t even hope to swallow the grapefruit in his throat as she spoke and he didn’t know what to say in response. There wasn’t anything to say, but he tried. “I couldn’t take a chance on hurting you again.” His voice cracked but he had to keep going. He wanted her to understand. “I couldn’t risk that.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I know. I know you did what you thought was right.”
The silence stretched for a minute as she regarded him. H
e wanted with all his being to hide from her gaze, but he didn’t. Lord knew he owed her that much. At least that much, and truth be told, a whole hell of a lot more.
“You need to tell Mia the truth.”
“You never told her?” He couldn’t hide the shock. He’d always assumed Lynn would tell their daughter every horrible thing he’d done.
“It wasn’t my place.” Her eyes met his with a steely resolve he didn’t feel in himself but respected the hell out of her for having. “I never wanted her to know that man before she had a chance to know who you really were. I told her about the man I know you to be. The soldier, the warrior, the good father.”
He looked away but she continued.
“That night doesn’t define you unless you let it, Leo. I think it’s time for you to stop letting it.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well because he didn’t have one. He was speechless. He watched as she crossed the space and walked away.
* * *
Lynn pulled over a few blocks from the apartment building and tried to catch her breath. It didn’t work. Instead, she had a good long cry in the confines of her car. Something she hadn’t done in a long while. Her whole body shook. Seeing Leo had been more than she was able to handle.
It had brought back so much pain and heartache. A world of regret that stood between them like a concrete wall. It shocked her that after all these years, she would still give almost anything to have back the love they’d once shared. To rebuild what they’d felt for one another so long ago.
She dragged a tissue across her eyes and focused on steadying her breathing before she made the phone call she knew she needed to make.
A mother should always put her child’s heart before her own. And Mia had a chance now to know her father. Lynn would never begrudge her that.
“Mia?”
“Hey mom, what’s up?”
“I saw your dad.”
Only silence greeted her. She didn’t blame Mia. Her daughter still held the anger of a young child when it came to her dad, and that made sense. That wound had been cut deep and early, and it was one that would stick with Mia no matter what her mother did to try to make it heal.