“I know,” Gil muttered. “I don’t want to stay either, but—”
The door opened with no knock or request for entry.
Two women entered, stern and prim. Their matching black suits strict with discipline and an official-looking badge over their breasts.
“This is a private meeting,” Justin said, striding forward to intercept them. “You can’t just barge in—”
“Mr. Clark?” The younger of the two with red hair in a sleek ponytail held up a piece of paper. “We’re here to discuss the accommodation and care of your only offspring, Olive Clark.”
Justin continued acting as bodyguard. “And you are?”
“Child Protective Services.”
I sucked in a huge breath.
Oh, no.
Tension in the room wound tight.
I moved closer to Olive, shielding her.
The woman cast her stare on all of us, saying, “The police informed us of the incapacitation of Mr. Clark, along with the impending trial for the events over the past few months. We were asked to arrange appropriate care for Olive Clark, and to discuss the fact that she hasn’t been attending school for over a year. As far as we’re concerned, it’s in the best interest of the child that she be placed with a foster family who will ensure her wellbeing and education is—”
“You are not taking my daughter.” Gil sat straight up in bed, his face blanching with agony. “No way.”
The redhead bypassed Justin, coming far too close for comfort. “Do you have relatives who could take the child?”
“The child’s name is Olive,” Gil snarled. “And she’s standing right in front of you.”
Olive kept her shoulders squared, her little body brave but trembling. “I don’t want to leave my dad.”
“I know,” the other CPS agent said, coming toward us with her satchel swinging by her side. “But you need structure, sweetie. You need a family who—”
“Don’t call me sweetie!” Olive slammed hands over her ears. “Uncle Jeffrey called me sweetheart and I hated it!” She turned into me, and my arms automatically wrapped around her.
“I think you better leave,” I snapped.
“Get out.” Gil tried to climb free from the tight bed sheets, but the monitors beeped and accused him of movement not recommended for someone in his wounded state.
Justin came to my side, forming a barrier, a family unit where all of us stood up to the law. “I’m Olive’s godfather. She can stay with me while Gil is in the hospital.”
The redhead scowled. “Have you had experience with children before? Will you ensure she attends school, seeing as Mr. Clark failed on that account?”
“She was fucking kidnapped,” Gil snarled, finally ripping off the sheet even though his face shone with sweat and a bloom of red appeared on his side. “I’ve been trying to find her for a year. Do you honestly think the kidnapper would take her to goddamn school?”
I reached out, resting my hand on his quaking arm. “Calm down, they’re only here for Olive’s best interest.”
I did my best to stay rational, even though I wanted nothing more than to dump the carafe of water on their head and kick them out the door.
“Thank you.” The woman with dark hair sniffed in my direction. “Like your friend said, Mr. Clark, we’re only here for the best interest of—”
“Her best interest is to stay with her father.” Gil panted, raking a hand through his hair and dislodging my hold. “I have no intention of letting her out of my sight again.”
“You’re in a hospital. She can’t stay—”
“I can take her to my place,” Justin interrupted. “I’ll care for her.”
Olive scrunched up her face. “No, I want to stay with Dad!”
The agents looked triumphant. “It seems you are unsuitable. We believe the child needs to undergo extensive therapy after her ordeal. She needs to be placed with a family capable of nurturing troubled—”
“She’s not troubled,” Gil roared. “She’s loved and she’s back home with me. You’re not having her.” His finger soared to the door. “Leave. Before I do something I’ll regret.”
The redhead stood up to his temper. “You’re about to go through a lengthy trial for your involvement in the painted murders, Mr. Clark. Do you really believe you’re in a position to care for a child who needs psychological—”
“Get out!” Gil tripped from the bed, his IV line catching on the railing. Justin swooped toward him, supporting his weight as his legs gave out. More blood saturated the side of his hospital gown.
Olive began to cry, silent and sorrowful.
It broke my heart.
All of this...
It broke my stupid, foolish heart.
“I can look after her.”
Everyone froze. All eyes locked on me.
I trapped a lock of Olive’s hair and pulled gently. “Would that be okay? Would you be all right staying with me while your dad heals?”
Olive blinked, her eyelashes dewy with tears. “Stay? With...you?”
I nodded, bending to her level. “You don’t have to. You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met, so I know you can face anything, but while your dad gets better, you can stay with me...if you want.”
Gil made a noise in his chest.
A noise that wrapped around me and made tears prick my own eyes. Even now, I wasn’t immune to him. Even after everything.
“You don’t have to do that, O,” Gil strangled. “You’re leaving, remember?”
“I know.”
I wasn’t a martyr or a sacrifice.
But I was a person who tried her best to be good.
This offer wasn’t for him.
It was for her.
This little girl who’d captured me from the moment I’d seen her blinking like a woodland creature in the dark.
Olive’s shoulders fell, her hand slipped into mine. She held onto me while she turned and faced her father. “Can’t I stay here with you?”
Gil’s throat worked hard as he swallowed. “I wish you could, little spinach, but it seems that option has been taken away.” He threw a glower at the women. His gaze tracked to mine with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to do this, O. Truly. I’m not trapping you into yet another mess of mine.”
“I can help,” Justin murmured. “I don’t mind.”
Gil shot him a grateful look even as pain blended. He’d only just found his daughter, yet he had to relinquish her all over again. To watch others care for her the way he wanted. “Do you think you could stay with her at my warehouse? Instead of taking her to yours?” His voice lowered. “I don’t want her to think she’s been kidnapped twice.”
Olive sniffed, her energy levels quickly slipping into sadness, knowing her happily-ever-after of going home with her father wouldn’t come true. “I don’t want to go home with him. I want to go home with you.” Her grey eyes snapped fiercely to Gil, her hand squeezing hard around mine.
Gil sighed sadly. “And I want to go home with you. And we will.” His attention shot to the CPS agents watching us with suspicion. He dared them to refute his claim about going home.