It’s the first time I’ve thought about the five million dollars.
“Will we get it back?”
“Eventually, sir.”
I roll my eyes. It’s the least of my problems. “I’ll get Welch onto the police and let him liaise with them for the return of the money.”
“Hyde is here, being patched up. He’s under police guard,” Taylor says.
“I wish she’d finished him off.”
Taylor holds his counsel, and I remember him wrestling me off Hyde while I was beating that fucker to a pulp. I can’t decide if Taylor’s actions were a good thing or not.
Hell. If he hadn’t, I’d be in a police cell now.
“Detective Clark would like a word with you at some point.” Taylor wisely changes the subject as I take a bite of the second croissant.
“Now is not the time.”
“Ryan has collected Mrs. Grey’s car. Apart from a parking ticket, it’s all good.” His smile is wry. “Sawyer’s mad he let her get away.”
“I’m sure.”
“There are photographers camped outside the hospital.”
Hell.
My phone buzzes. It’s Ray. Shit.
“Ray. Good morning.”
“I need to see Annie.”
Ray has heard about Ana’s heroics, courtesy of the media, and now insists on seeing her. As he’s the only man in the world who intimidates me, I cannot say no.
I dispatch Taylor, and thirty minutes later Ray’s sitting at the end of her bed in his wheelchair.
“Annie,” he whispers as I wheel him in closer to her bed. “What was she thinking?” he says, his voice hoarse. He’s shaved and is wearing loose shorts and a shirt, so in spite of the broken leg and bruising, he looks more like himself.
“I don’t know, Ray. We’ll have to wait for her to wake up before we can ask her.”
“If you don’t take her across your knee, I sure as hell will. What the hell was she thinking?” He’s more adamant this time.
“Trust me, Ray, I just might do that.” If she’ll let me. I clutch her hand while Ray shakes his head.
“She shot him, you know.”
His mouth drops open. “The kidnapper?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Thanks for teaching her how to use a gun. Maybe you can teach me to shoot one day.”
“Christian, I’d be honored.” We both gaze at my headstrong, reckless, brave wife. Each of us nursing our own fearful thoughts while Ana remains unconscious.
“Let me know when she wakes up.”
“Will do, Ray.”
“I’ll call Carla,” he mutters.
“I’d appreciate it. Thanks.”
He kisses Ana’s hand, his eyes glistening with tears, and I have to look away.
When he leaves, I call the office, then Welch, who is in Detroit, following a lead on Hyde. He can’t believe Hyde found someone to post bail. Finding out who and why they did is next on his agenda. He’s going to call his contact at the Seattle Police Department to ascertain what they know.
I pace back and forth in front of the window to shake off my fatigue as I talk on the phone and watch my wife. She sleeps through my calls, she sleeps through the frequent arrival of flowers from our family and friends—so by mid-afternoon her room resembles a florist’s, and she sleeps through their calls inquiring about her well-being.
Everyone loves Ana.
What’s not to love? I brush her soft, translucent cheek with my knuckles, fighting the urge to cry. “Baby, wake up. Please. Wake up and be mad at me again. Anything. Hate me…whatever. Just wake up. Please.”
I sit beside her and wait.
Kate barges into the room without knocking.
“Kate. Hi.”
She nods a greeting and strides straight to Ana’s bed and takes her hand. “How is she?”
I’m too tired for this. “Unconscious.”
“Ana! Ana! Wake up,” Kate barks.
For fuck’s sake. The tenacious Ms. Kavanagh is here. “I’ve tried, Kate. I’ve been assured that she’ll wake in her own time.”
Kate presses her lips together. “She doesn’t have the sense that she was born with.”
I can’t argue with that.
She turns to me. “How are you holding up?”
Her inquiry into my well-being is a surprise. “I’m fine. Anxious. Tired.”
She nods. “You look it. You two make up?”
I sigh. “Not exactly. When she wakes…” I trail off.
Weirdly, Kate seems to accept this, and doesn’t give me a hard time. “So, what happened? How did she end up here?” She folds her arms, and because it looks like I won’t get rid of her any other way, I give her the executive summary of Hyde’s kidnapping of my sister and Ana’s heroic but utterly foolhardy rescue.
“Shit!” Kate says when I finish. “What the hell was she thinking? She’s supposed to be the smart one.”
“Yeah.”
“You know, Christian—she loves you very much.”
“I know. She wouldn’t be here like this if she didn’t.” I clench my jaw in self-loathing for doubting her.
“Tell her I was here.”
“I will.”
“Hope you get some sleep.” She gives Ana a last glance and squeeze of her hand, and then she’s gone.
Thank God.
A knock on the door wakes me, and Detective Clark appears. He’s the last person I want to see. I don’t want to share my wife with anyone, not when she’s like this.
“Sorry to disturb you. I was hoping there might be a chance to talk to Mrs. Grey.”
“Detective, as you can see, my wife is in no state to answer any of your questions.” I stand to greet him, feeling like shit. I just want this man to go.
Fortunately, his visit is brief but informative. He tells me that Elizabeth Morgan is cooperating fully with the police. It seems Hyde had compromising videos of her, so he was able to coerce her into helping him. It was Morgan who lured Mia out at the gym.
“Hyde’s a twisted son of a bitch,” mutters Clark. “He has a serious grudge against your father, and you.”