I sucked in a breath and squeezed my eyes shut, my legs knowing where to take me to get me out the back door to the small space that had a few picnic tables for employee breaks.
“What’s happening?”
I almost didn’t want to hear the answer, but I held my breath. I’d just seen him yesterday evening. The two of them had met Declan and me at the restaurant for a dinner that Finn ended up joining us for. It’d turned out great, despite my misgivings that Declan and my father might end up in some alpha male battle. But no, Declan had been the perfect gentleman, and my father had been gracious.
Not once had I thought something was amiss, despite the obvious. But the call sent my fragile, naive sense of peace shattering into pieces.
“He had trouble breathing overnight, so we called Dr. Stevens this morning, and he had us come into the office,” she said, her words steady and calm. I heard the sound of footsteps and voices in the background. “His oxygen levels were really low, and they wanted him in right away. He’s getting a room on the fourth floor in a couple hours, and then you can come see him. They’re discouraging visitors right now because he’s resting.”
I couldn’t speak for a long moment.
“Honey, are you still there?”
Drawing in an uneven breath, I finally answered her. “Yeah, Mom. Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll be there as soon as you let me know, okay?”
She agreed to call me as soon as I could visit before disconnecting the call.
I sat in shock a few moments, unsure how normal life was supposed to go on when all I could think about was my father likely hooked to breathing machines and my mother trying to hold herself together and put on a brave face for the love of her life. I closed my eyes and dropped my face in my hands, willing myself to be calm. To think positive thoughts. To…
My phone rang, making me nearly jump out of my skin. It was Declan. I considered calling him back in a few minutes after I’d calmed down, but I also knew that Declan would worry.
“Hey,” I said, trying way too hard to keep my voice chipper.
Of course, he saw through it right away. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Oh, my heart. It threatened to explode out of my chest when he called me that.
“It’s my dad.” I cleared my throat again, the emotion threatening to choke me. “He’s in the ER at Brigham and Women’s because he had trouble breathing. They’re keeping him for a day or two until his O2 levels are better.”
“Where are you?”
I looked up at my view. The water of the wharf was a few feet away, and I watched the sun dancing off the small waves created by the wind.
“I’m leaving work,” I said. “I was going to shower and change and then go see him when they called me later.”
“I’m on my way,” he said. “I’ll meet you out front in five minutes.”
Declan didn’t let me argue with him, and true to his word, he’d found a way to make it to the front of The Capstone in his sexy looking sports car, coming all the way from the business district, in six minutes flat.
He jogged around the car as soon as it came to a stop, put my face in both of his hands, and gave me a kiss before helping me into the passenger side.
As we drove away, I thought to myself that on any other day, I’d consider myself the luckiest girl in Boston.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Declan
Amelia was too worried about Jack Sr. to care that I was driving like a maniac. Hell, to even think twice about the fact that I was escorting her to the hospital to see her father. I was sure a few weeks ago, she would have demanded that I stay back at my place and let her family work everything out on their own. But her small hand immediately went into mine as we walked through the parking garage across the street from the hospital, and I felt her lean into me during the walk.
She needed me right now, and it was one of the most exhilarating feelings in the world. I wanted to be there for her like I’d never wanted to be there for anyone else before in my life.
We went up to the floor where Jack Sr. was staying, and Amelia kept her hand in mine as she pushed open the door and led us in.
Jack was in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, an oxygen tube in his nose. Rosie Byrne was beside him, reading a magazine and humming to herself. I wasn’t exactly sure what I expected — but I certainly didn’t expect this level of calm.
My mother had surgeries at least once every four or five months, elective surgeries, and she basically needed a priest on hand and at least four mourners on standby in case something happened. Everything with my mother was a damn production, so it was odd to see Jack laying there, calm as can be, with a cancer diagnosis and trouble breathing because of it. Being held in the hospital because the situation warranted it — and there were no wailing tears or melodramatics.
“Hello, Declan,” Rosie said as she rose to skip the handshake and go straight for a full-body hug. She was shorter than me, and when I wrapped my arms around her and awkwardly patted her back, I dwarfed her.
“Hello,” I said. I looked at Jack and saw that Amelia had gone straight to him. I nodded an acknowledgment as I hugged his wife. “Mr. Byrne.”
“Christ, son,” he complained, his voice higher, tighter, and thinner than normal. Amelia didn’t miss it either, and I saw her eyes narrow at the difference. “I’ve told you before to call me Jack.”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a nod. “Force of habit. I’m sorry.”
Knowing that they’d probably want a moment or two to talk, I offered to make a coffee run downstairs. We were probably going to be here a while, and I’d seen Amelia yawning on the ride over.
With orders in hand, I took my time making my way down to the cafeteria and got a tray for the three drinks. Jack had declined, lifting his IV and telling me that he was getting plenty of liquids, thank you very much. At least he still had a sense of humor, and I could tell that the joke helped Amelia and Rosie relax a little.
I used the time to check-in with Brennan and the office.
“Don’t forget about the meeting for the space that could be built out for a restaurant,” he reminded me, like his name was Clara and he was my assistant. I shook my head but bit my tongue. He meant well.
“I won’t forget,” I said, refraining from throwing in a snarky mom. “What’s going on with Jack’s house?”
“More security,” he said. “I have a car sitting in the damn driveway right now, begging the Duffys to make some sort of move. Also had a talk with one of the patrol sergeants from the precinct. What they’re being told from above differs greatly from their opinions on the James-Byrne fiasco.”
That was interesting.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the beat cops know that anytime a James or Duffy asshole is involved, they’re the problem,” he said. “They run into issues when they’re basically given a result and encouraged to look for evidence and behavior that would support the result they’re after.”
I thought about it a moment, putting together everything we’d learned about Trevor Leonard and his role in prosecuting — or not prosecuting — crimes related to the Duffy family. About the detectives calling Amelia for “information” two times a day the past day and a half. The Duffys weren’t poor necessarily, but their pockets weren’t deep enough to really make a dent in the pockets of a dirty assistant prosecutor. How were they paying for this? How were they influencing the precinct cops?
I couldn’t answer the question, and it aggravated me. It meant that the woman I cared for a crazy amount was being harassed without impunity because I couldn’t crack the reasons.
“We’ll talk about it more tomorrow,” I said. “I’m here at the hospital with Amelia. Jack Sr. is having issues with his breathing and will be here for a while. Not sure how long.”
“Damn,” Brennan said on an exhale. “I’m sorry. Please tell Amelia I said so.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I will. I’ll let you know more as soon as I can.”
<
br /> We ended the call there, and I turned to find Amelia walking through the door, looking for me.
“Everything okay?” I couldn’t see distress on her face, but we were in a hospital. You never knew what could happen.
“Yeah,” she said, wiping at her eyes. She’d been crying. “The nurses were prepping him for a couple tests the doctor ordered, so I gave him some privacy.”
I set the coffees down and pulled her against my chest. “It will be okay.” I hoped I wasn’t lying.
“It’s the cancer,” she said, nodding. I knew it was. She knew it was. But I was pretty certain, based on a few conversations we’d had over the past few days, that she was hoping that the cancer was in some sort of stasis and not developing too rapidly. She had mentioned that her father hated making rush decisions and would probably delay making any as long as possible.
Except, too often, the disease made the decisions for you.
“The doctor wants him to have the surgery sooner than we thought,” she said, the misery in her voice evident.
“And he doesn’t want to?”
She shook her head. “He’s worried about money, and he’s worried about my mother.” She pressed the heel of her hand into her eye. “He wants to have everything perfectly in place, and that takes a while. And, I think he’s scared. Scared that he won’t be able to get back to work. Won’t be able to afford it. All of the above.”
Watching Amelia fret, I could do nothing more than hold her tighter while my mind raced, trying to stay a step ahead of the gathering storm headed her family’s way.
“Have they heard from your brother?”
She nodded. “He called my mother yesterday,” she said. “Didn’t say much but said he’d try to visit them at some point this week. I don’t know if she’s told him yet.”
Amelia tried at least three times in my presence over the past few days to touch base with her brother after what happened with Gentry James at the jobsite, but JJ was shifty and never answered his phone. It didn’t seem to surprise his sister much, only pissed her off.
We killed time in the cafeteria and waited for her mother to call. When she did, I gave Amelia a kiss and told her I’d get some work done and come back for her later — all she had to do was let me know when she was ready, and I’d come get her and take her back home.
I didn’t miss the way that taking Amelia home felt like such a natural thought to me either.
“I’ll be back when you need me.”
She nodded and allowed me to pull her into an embrace before I walked her to the elevators that would take her back to Jack’s room. Normally, I’d have insisted on staying with her, even if it meant being downstairs while she and her family talked, but I had a few plans I needed to get rolling, and I’d operate better at my place for the next couple hours.
My first call was to Dr. Phillipa Yancey for a little information and recommendations. I had a plan brewing, and it was a big one. But if it worked, it would solve multiple problems, for both Jack Byrne and myself, at once.
***
“I’m going to run every single one of them over with my car myself,” Amelia muttered as we were headed back upstairs to Jack’s room the following morning. I’d told her about the trouble that had happened at her parents’ house earlier and how it wasn’t subsiding any time soon. Of course, my little warrior princess was fuming. “Who do they think they are, harassing an honest man like my father?”
I was fairly certain that the Duffy idiots didn’t necessarily know that Jack had cancer, but I wasn’t entirely convinced it would make a huge difference either. In fact, maybe their approach would be more blitzkrieg and aggressive if they knew they had a wounded animal in their midst. They were like that, it seemed, and it was only a matter of time before they got word about the nature of the situation.
I’d talked to Phillipa about Jack, despite not knowing the nitty-gritty details. I gave her everything I knew, every detail that Amelia or Jack himself had given me and asked her to propose the best-case scenario treatment plan for him that would also, hopefully, get him out of Boston for a few weeks, even months, while he recovered.
The mess with the Duffys was just beginning, and if there was a weakness or a card to pull against Jack in order to mess with JJ, they’d do it. And if Jack were trying to recover from cancer surgery, it would be a nightmare for Amelia and her mother to watch.
No, I’d asked Phillipa to come up with a feasible option, and that was what I had in the folder in my hands.
Knowing Amelia would probably jump to an immediate defensive no, I simply told her that I needed to talk to her parents about a few things that morning before heading to work. She would hear when they did that I had a plan to get Jack and Rosie down South before the month was out.
Back in the small room, Jack looked like he’d gotten decent sleep. His face was a healthier color, and his eyes didn’t have the heavy circles beneath them.
I cut right to the chase.
“I have two reasons to propose what I’m going to propose right now, so please hear me out. The first is that the Duffy family is getting bolder and more flagrant in their attacks on your home and your jobsites. It’s not going to stop any time soon, and I think when they learn about the link between Amelia and me, it will get worse.”
Rosie closed her eyes, and Jack kept his gaze leveled on me. I was fairly certain Brennan was keeping him mostly appraised of the situation, so it wasn’t news to him. He nodded. “Go on.”
I met his gaze. “The second reason I’m proposing this is because I happen to know how proud of a man you are, Jack, and how you will fight with everything you have to defend your family while you’re here in town, possibly making your recovery slower or less effective. And that affects Amelia, which affects me.”
Amelia’s scowl was dark and etched deep in her face as I watched her put the pieces of my plan together in her head. She wanted to say no — I could practically see the word on the tip of her tongue. But it was her father’s decision, and even Amelia knew that. Just as she thought it wasn’t my place to offer things like this to her family, she also knew it wasn’t her place to decide for her father.
“I had my physician do a little homework and look into pulmonary oncology programs around the country — places that do the surgery you’re looking for and do it well.” I held up my hand when Amelia began to speak, silently asking her to give me a moment. When she clamped her mouth closed, I went on, “Places that offer rest and recovery options that typical hospitals might not. Places that might seem more resort, less institutional. And she found one in South Carolina, a few miles north of Myrtle Beach, as a matter of fact.”
Okay, I was hitting below the belt on this one. Amelia had mentioned her parents’ love for Myrtle Beach and how they honeymooned there after they were married. I knew that would perk up Rosie’s attention, at least.
“It’s a hospital that specializes in cutting-edge treatments as well as holistic healing approaches after the surgery,” I continued, bolstered by the fact that at least Jack hadn’t kicked me out yet. “Phillipa said the typical stay is about six to eight weeks.”
Amelia sputtered at that. “He’d never—” she began, but her father put his hand up to silence her, which she did immediately.
“Jack, I know you’ve got your life here. I get that. This is a big risk,” I said. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about what the Duffys and their family are going to cook up in the coming weeks to get a piece of what I’m building and what you’ve built. I think their tactics are going to get worse and more distracting as time goes on, and you’ll be wasting the window you have to heal yourself and recover.”
“And my business?” Jack asked.
I almost coughed, I was so relieved he hadn’t called me a few colorful words and given me the finger.
“Your kids can run it for you,” I said. “Amelia knows it inside and out and can help put it in sleep mode while you recover. All you need to do is subcontract the remaining jobs you
have and put everything else on hiatus until you return. I know you have good working relationships with other contractors you can call on if you need.”
I could tell he still wasn’t convinced, and I knew the price tag was probably terrifying him. Any person with half a brain would get a cancer diagnosis and immediately start window shopping treatments and options.
“The cost would be covered.”
I put it out there and saw each of the three Byrne family members visibly tense.
“Please,” I said. “Hear me out. The cost is prohibitive, to say the least, but not for me. You were my father’s friend for as long as I was alive, and if he were here now, he’d be saying the same thing that I am, only with more forceful language.”
That got a smirk out of Jack.
“And I suspect you’d do the same for him, hell, even me, if possible,” I went on. “We can work on a payment plan if that’s what you want, but I think the most important thing here is to get you out of town before the Duffys can capitalize on your sickness and make things worse.”
Nobody said anything for a long moment, though I knew that Amelia probably wanted to read me the riot act and call me a few foul names for springing this on her. After all, she had no idea where she would fit into this and had more than likely planned on being next to her father for the journey. And it wasn’t to say that she still couldn’t do whatever she wanted, but the fact that it would be away from their home and business gave them a lot to think about.
“I’m headed to the office, but I’m leaving this here for you all to look at. Let me know what you think,” I said, suddenly more nervous about this than when I was giving my first pitch for The Capstone project. What if they rejected me outright for imposing on their personal matters?
I swallowed, gave a curt nod and made my exit.
In the elevator, when the elevator door shut in front of me, I let out a long breath that I’d been holding for what felt like five minutes.
Claiming Amelia Page 17