“Getting to come to work with my new daddy.” My legs pause. Those words cause my throat to clog up and my chest to warm. A smile finally breaks through my lips.
“What?”
I shake my head, continuing through the waiting room. “Nothing, kiddo. Just hearing you say that makes me happy is all.”
“I’m happy too.”
“Dr. Braden,” a voice greets, surprise laced in her words. About the time I glance away from Emersyn, I realize who’s spoken to me. “I thought you were scheduled off today. Am I wrong?” Catherine, another third-year resident, asks.
“No,” I confirm. “But I got a text from Roderick. You seen him?”
“I’m pretty sure he ran to the cafeteria to grab lunch. Want me to page him?”
“Nah, I’ll call his cell. Thanks though.”
What the hell? I told him I’d be here in twenty. Why call me down here when he wasn’t going to wait on me? Making me wait on him is only going to piss me off. I enjoy my days off just like everyone else around here, and I don’t appreciate—
“Shane.” Roxanne stops my thoughts, making my eyes glance in her direction. She’s standing, rocking on her heels, just inside the entrance to where the registration desk is. “It was me. I asked you to come down.”
“What the . . .?” Jesus Christ. I don’t need this. Not today.
For the last two weeks, since the night she blew up on me in the hallway between our two apartments, I’ve been professional. I’ve been cordial. I haven’t been personable or friendly. She lost those two things when she thought she was going to shove her tongue down my throat.
“Just hear me out. Please.” She motions for me to come through the door that leads away from the waiting room area.
Against my better judgment, I go, hoping I’m not going to regret it later. She sees I have Emersyn with me and this is our place of employment, so surely, she wouldn’t try anything inappropriate. She better not.
“Make it quick,” I say, following her to the dictation room.
Before entering, I place Emersyn down into the plastic chair just outside the small room, handing her my cell phone to keep her entertained while I talk. There’s a coloring app she likes on there. It’ll keep her busy for at least ten minutes. I don’t plan on being here any longer than that.
I hope Roxanne heard the seriousness in my voice when I said she better spit out whatever it is she wants.
“It’s about Whitney’s husband.” My jaw locks. One, I still hate hearing that term used. I fucking hate it. And two, what business is Whitney or Blake, or anyone concerning me, have to do with her?
“What about him?”
“He approached me a couple of weeks ago before she got her memory back. Before you and I had that fight in the hallway. He asked me to help him split the two of you up.” Her cheeks flush, and she bites her lower lip, looking away from me for a split second before returning her green eyes to mine. “I wanted to. At first, I thought it was a brilliant idea. She would leave and go back to him. I would get you.” She shakes her head. “Stupid, I know.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Frankly, I don’t know what to say to that. I shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t try to get help to break us apart. We’re stronger together. I see that now. I’ve always had this image of Whitney as strong, independent, and fierce. Not that she wasn’t. But until she returned, and knowing what other people were able to convince her of, I didn’t realize we gave each other strength. We gave each other courage. We’re each other’s rock.
“He’s not right in the head, Shane. He’s obsessed with her.” This I already know. “He’ll stop at nothing to get her back. NOTHING, Shane. He wants to do something. Hurt your daughter, I think.” My breathing stops. “I didn’t want to become a doctor to hurt kids. I love kids. I would never deliberately cause any child harm. Not ever. I refused to help him with any plan. But Shane, someone’s got to do something about him. He’s crazy. I’m worried he really is going to try to hurt your kid. Hell, he may even try to hurt his child if it gets him Whitney back.”
“Why . . .” Is he that fucked-up in the head? “Why do you think he’d hurt one of the girls?”
“I asked him how I could help. I said I’d do anything if it got me you. But I thought he’d ask me to help it look like we”—she points between the two of us—“you know. That we slept together or something like that. Don’t.” She holds up her hand as if she thinks I’m going to say something. I wasn’t, but I don’t correct her. “I know how messed up that was. My sister made me see the light.”
“You still haven’t said why you think he wants to harm one of my kids.” Her eyes grow, catching the fact that I consider them both mine. I do. There’s no point in pretending I don’t.
“He said something that made the alarm bells in my head go off. He said he just needed to get rid of Everly and things could go back to the way they were supposed to be.”
Fury boils beneath my skin, the heat intensifying as it courses through my veins at the mere thought of someone thinking of doing harm to her.
“I freaked out and told him I wanted no part. I didn’t wait for him to explain or change my mind. I hightailed it out of there. And shit.” Her head falls back onto her shoulders. “I should have told you this before now. I just didn’t want to overreact, and you think I was crazy. Well, crazier than you already do anyway.”
I back out of the room, turning and dropping down to my knees, next to where Emersyn is. “Monkey, I need my phone for a sec.”
She hands it over without so much as a fight or a whine.
I locate the tracking app as quickly as I can. Within seconds the app pinpoints Everly’s phone location. Chills crawl up my arms. She’s not at school, which isn’t that alarming. Whitney could have gotten done with her doctor’s appointment and errands before school let out. She might have picked her up early. But she isn’t at home. She isn’t in the city. She, or at least her cell phone, is in another town.
I don’t know what to do. What the fuck do I do? Panic sets in. There’s no stopping it.
“Em, we gotta go.”
“Shane, what is it?”
“She isn’t where she’s supposed to be. I gotta go. I have to call Whit, and I just gotta go.”
“Why don’t you leave her with me?” She nods to where Emersyn is still seated. “Maybe it’s nothing, but she’ll just slow you down. Leave her here. I swear I’ll take care of her.”
“Go find Gavin. Tell him what’s up and ask him to take her home or see if Maria will come get her. Okay?”
“Sure. Just go.”
“Monk, this is Roxanne. She lives across the hall. You know that, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I have to run an errand, and I’ll be right back. You’re going to stay with Miss Roxanne, and she’s going to take you to my friend Gavin until I can get back. Okay?”
“Does she have coloring on her phone?”
“I do,” Roxanne says before I can speak. “Go.” She juts her head to the side.
Fuck.
I kiss Emersyn on the forehead real fast and I jet out of the hospital hoping and praying nothing is wrong. I just got her. I can’t lose her. Not now.
Please . . .
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Whitney Lane
I stand outside the building of the address he sent me in the text message. The Landmark Group is etched in the glass door in front of me. That’s the name of the investment banking company my soon-to-be ex-husband works for. His father’s company. But this can’t be right. They don’t have a branch here. They only have two locations. One in downtown Memphis and the headquarters is located in Nashville.
Blake mentioned his father wanted to open a third location, but the talk was always Dallas, Texas; not one town over . . . I’d remember something like that. Maybe Dallas fell through? Where did this come from? And when? I’ve only been gone from his life for six-weeks. Well, gone as much as I can be anyway. We’ll unfortunately
always be connected because of Emersyn.
Raising my cell phone to my ear, I call his phone once again. And once again there is no answer.
What the hell is he playing at?
What stupid point is he trying to make?
I pull on the heavy, steel door handle. It opens, but all is dark inside. I can still see, but there aren’t any lights on. It’s not open for business that’s clear.
“Blake,” I call out, hearing my voice echo in the emptiness. I pause a moment to take in the construction. There’s plastic everywhere, covering the concrete flooring and what I presume will be a large welcome desk in the center of the lobby. The smell of fresh paint wafts up my nose, making the bridge crinkle at the pungent aroma. “Everly,” I say louder.
Where is my daughter?
I’m hit again with silence.
“Blake!” I bark. “Dammit, where is she? This isn’t funny.”
I turn in a circle, my eyes scanning every nook and cranny before the sense of being watched creeps up my spine. But from where? There’s a glass elevator to my left. Looking right, I see a wide set of steel stairs. My eyes glide up, taking in the offices above me encased in more glass. The walkways and railing are all hard, steel and I can see everything. The flooring above me has an industrial feel. Nothing about this place says banking. At least not to me.
When I get to the third floor, I see him.
He’s dressed in his usual: black suit, white dress shirt, and silk tie. His jacket is unbuttoned and opened with his hands positioned on his hips as he stares down at me. I think I see a bit of a wicked gleam in his eyes, but anger engulfs me so quick I don’t have to think about it.
How dare him? How dare he think he can get away with this? Whatever the fuck this is. He’s gone too far. He has to realize this isn’t okay.
I dart right, taking the stairs two at a time. Adrenaline propels me upward. My legs are quickly tiring. I haven’t run in years, and the burn in my calves lets me know how out of shape I am, but determination won’t allow me to slowdown. I’ll get my child, and he’ll be lucky I don’t push him over the railing before I leave.
He watches every step I make, not moving from his position behind that glass wall. I still haven’t seen—I stop just before the last step. Everly. That’s when I see her sitting off to his right. She looks so small sitting in one of the chairs at a vast, empty table. Conference room? Maybe. Probably. Her backpack is in front of her on top of the table—also glass. She’s hugging the material, scared I imagine.
There are two entrances leading into the room. I take the one closest to me—closest to my daughter.
Up here there is no plastic covering things. No dust. Everything I’m seeing is already finished and cleaned as though the construction is being completed from top to bottom.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, not looking at him as I step toward my daughter. “Are you okay?” I wrap my hand around her head, gently pulling her into my chest as I meet his eyes from where he’s still standing.
“Step away from her.” His body twists around, facing us. I glare, getting angrier by the second.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Or her.” I squeeze Everly tighter. “I’m here to get my daughter. We’re leaving. When I get home, you better bet—” He cuts me off.
“I thought I told you to bring my daughter with you. Where is Emersyn?”
“Not here. And I’m pretty sure I just told you I don’t take orders from you.” I drop my hands and take a step backward, giving Everly room to get up. “Let’s go, Ev.”
“I don’t think so, Wife.”
I ignore the “wife” term he refers to me as, not wanting to drag Everly into more drama than he already has. There’s no telling what’s going through her head. It hasn’t been that long ago that she learned he wasn’t her father. I still haven’t explained why that is. She’s ten. What am I supposed to tell her? Eventually, I will. When she’s older. When she doesn’t still have her innocence of the evil that plagues our world still intact, I’ll tell her everything. That innocence is probably waning at this very moment.
“I do think so. Pull this shit again and I’ll—”
My body steps sideways the same moment Everly gasps for breath as I try to block her from his view.
“You’ll what?” The small gun he pulled out from the pocket of his slacks rises in the air, pointing in our direction. “Give me your phone.” My cell phone is still clutched in my hand. “Place it on the table and slide it this way.” When I don’t do it or say anything, he yells, “Do it now!”
I quickly comply. “Blake? What do you—”
“Shut up. When I want something out of your mouth, I’ll tell you when you can speak.”
He steps toward the table, the gun trained on me—or us. He picks my phone up without taking his hateful eyes off me, turning it off.
Why didn’t I tell Shane? Or fuck, call the police. Why the hell didn’t I? He did kidnap my daughter after all. That’s a crime.
God, this is bad.
He’s lost his mind.
What do I do? I have to do something? I have to protect my child.
“Get over here.” He flicks the gun, motioning for me to come toward him. I don’t. I’m not stepping away from shielding Everly. I can’t. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
“What do you want, Blake?”
“I. Just. Told. You. Now get your ass over here.”
“I’m not leaving my daughter.” Everly wraps her arms around my middle, squeezing. “Blake, put the gun down. You’re scaring her.”
“Her?” he snarls. “She ruined everything.” His words startle her. I feel her body jump slightly against my back.
How do I get us out of this? Think, Whitney. Do something. You have to do something. But what? He has a gun. What if it’s loaded? Blake hates guns. Always has. So maybe . . . it is possible it’s not.
“No,” his words draw out in a whisper, as if they’re meant for his ears only. “This is more your fault, than hers, isn’t it? They promised me you. And you violated what was supposed to be mine when you screwed him, producing her.”
What the fuck is he talking about? I was promised to him? What in God’s name does that even mean?
“Let her leave, Blake. She’s scared. This is about me, right? Not about her, so let her go,” I plead. God, please let her leave. But where is she going to go? No one knows we’re here.
His eyes squint before he huffs out air and steps forward. Before I can make any move my cell phone slips from his fingers, then he grabs my forearms, yanking me into his chest and away from Everly.
“No!” I yell, attempting to push him off so I can get back to her.
“Momma,” she calls out, but I can’t look at her in fear that taking my eyes off Blake could . . . No no no. I can’t think that. I can get him to stop this madness. He wants me after all. I’m his end game, right?
“I said come here. Dammit, you come here.”
I shove as hard as I can. “Get off.” My body shakes with fear for my daughter’s life, but I’m momentarily blinded when pain slices through the side of my head. Fuck that hurts. My hand releases him to reach up to my skull. To the pain stinging the side of my head.
“No! Leave her alone,” Everly yells.
The gun. He hit me with the side of the gun. At least he didn’t pull the trigger. At least his attention is on me.
I blink rapidly, seeing him waving his arm wildly in her direction. “She’s not leaving here. Neither are you.”
Cupping my head, I look over at my daughter. The sullen demeanor that’s been gone for weeks is suddenly marring her beautiful face again. If looks could kill, the one she is giving him would.
It breaks my heart knowing I’m the one that allowed Blake’s disdain for her to go on so long. Even though I didn’t know he wasn’t her father, I shouldn’t have put up with it. I should have left. I knew back when I was pregnant with her I didn’t love him.
“Now, w
here were we?” He’s still holding the gun, his arm stretched out, toward my baby girl. “Sit your ass on the table behind you. We’re going to have a little family discussion.”
I take one step backward, my butt hitting the hard edge of the glass, but instead of sitting on top of it, I perch myself against it. He says nothing, so neither do I. My mind is racing with a million things at once. I have to get him to point the gun at me. Not her. He’s so angry he could accidentally pull the trigger. I can’t let that happen. I’m responsible for her protection.
“Blake, please just stop pointing the gun at her. Point it at me. You’re mad at me, not her.”
“You’re right, wifey. I am.” The gun slowly moves. Relief floods me, even though now I’m in danger of him accidentally shooting me.
“No.” Everly scream-cries this time. “Don’t hurt my mom.”
“Shut up.” His eyes cut to her just for a second and I see the devil. I see the evil coursing through him. How have I never seen it before? He did, after all, play a huge part in convincing me I was someone I wasn’t. Only someone or something evil would do that. My parents. His parents. The doctors. Who else had a part in keeping me from the life I should have had?
“Blake. Honey.” I call, trying to get his attention solely on me. Maybe she can run out of here.
“Don’t fucking Honey me. Remember, I know your memory is back, Whitney. Heard it loud and clear when you told the judge what a sick fuck I was to do what I did. You. Were. Promised. To. Me. You’re mine. And I’m a sick fuck?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Is that what set him off? Were my words to the judge what caused this? “I’m sorry, Blake. Please let—”
“Stop. Talking.” He breathes in deep.
“How did you get a different judge anyway? Your golden-boy, the good doctor, is too good to blackmail a judge. I’m not though. So.” His head cocks to the side. “How did you get a different judge to preside over the hearing? You don’t have any money. I made sure you had to depend on me all these years. SO HOW?”
More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance Page 27