Chapter 48

Andrew

“This is everything I got.” Keith Shepherd laid the folder on my home desk.

I lifted it, testing its weight—or, rather, lightness. “It’s not much.”

“There’s not much on him. He’s a seventeen-year-old boy.”

I directed a frown his way. I hadn’t hired a private investigator to give me lip.

Cracking the folder, I took a brief look at the three sheets inside. There was a page of the basic facts. Date of birth, home address, etc. Nothing that important, and nothing I couldn’t have found out myself.

The second page was a printed-out instant messaging chat between Jason and someone named Hayden, dated a month earlier. According to the super-secretive conversation, they had plans to hit the mall, and Jason hoped Raven would be there. Again, nothing special.

Then there was a report from school, detailing a few detentions Jason had gotten—all for being late to class or disrupting the learning environment. This late part I probably could have gotten from Lanie, but that was out of the question. We hadn’t spoken since I sent her away from the hospital the evening before. I wanted to see her, but I just didn’t have it in me.

And I certainly wasn’t about to ask her to use her job to gather information for me, the man who could hardly be considered available.

I closed the folder and dropped it on the desk. “That’s all?”

Keith relaxed back into one of the two leather wingback chairs across from me, hands steepled on top of his crossed legs. “Again. He’s seventeen. He’s a bit of a troublemaker. He likes to go skating in parking garages where there are signs saying not to, likes to cut up in class.” He grinned, and I got the sense he was making fun of me.

“You’ve only been on him for a day,” I pointed out. “That’s not enough time to find anything out. However much time you need, I’ll pay for it.”

Keith adjusted his blazer and frowned awfully hard for a man who’d just been offered money. “You talked to his parents?”

“Of course, I talked to his parents,” I scoffed. “They have no interest in removing the wool from their eyes. They think their son is a perfect little angel, a kid who will never be able to do wrong.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing else to be found out, Mr. Marx.”

My fingers curled into my palms, and I fought the urge to get up and punch the wall. “You got that instant message conversation somehow. You can get more. I don’t need to know how you do it—”

“There is no more to be had. I printed that conversation out because it was the only one that mentioned your daughter. Everything else was about as tame as it comes. Video games. Cars. A little talk about girls, but nothing you wouldn’t expect for a kid that age.”

“And the hospital’s blood work was—”

“The hospital’s blood work was correct,” he cut in, one step ahead of me. “I have a reliable source there. I might be able to get you a copy of the work if you’re willing to wait. It’s not going to tell you anything I’m not already saying, though.”

“Right.” I rapped my knuckles against my chair’s armrest, an old nervous habit that I’d picked back up in the last couple days. “I’ll take a look at that.”

He raised his hands. “I’ll send it over. Anything else?”

“No.” I looked away as I stood up. “I’ll show you out.”

With Keith gone, I retreated back to my office—the place I’d barely left all day. I’d taken a couple weeks off from work, putting my best employees on the biggest tasks, and cleared my life. If Raven didn’t wake up in the next fourteen days …

No, I reminded myself, sinking into my chair. She’ll wake up.

Pressing my palm to my brow, I closed my eyes and waited for the breath-stealing pain to vanish.

It didn’t.

How many hours had I spent in this office? I’d set up a work zone at home in the hopes that it would bring me closer to Raven, and then I’d realized too late what a foolish idea that was. I’d spent years ignoring the most important thing, the most important person in my life. You’d think I would have gotten my priorities straightened out after Danica’s death, but apparently, I wasn’t that smart.

I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Once Raven woke up, I’d give her all the attention she needed and more. Nothing was more important than my daughter. It was time I finally showed her that.

A soft knock on the office door made me drop my hand. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s me,” Karen softly said.

As if it would be anyone but my housekeeper. Despite my pain, I smiled a bit at that. “Come in.”

The door slowly opened, and she peered in. I’d given her the day off, but she showed up anyway. Her husband had come by earlier in the day as well, offering his help in any way he could.

They were both good people. Better than I probably deserved.

“I made some soup,” Karen said. “Chicken noodle.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Karen’s forehead wrinkled in worry. “You didn’t eat any lunch.”

“I’m fine.”

“And you barely had breakfast.”

I started to ask if she was my mother, but I held my tongue. In a way, Karen was just that. My parents lived states away. I hadn’t told them about Raven yet, and I knew why. A part of me felt guilty for keeping her away from them for so long, for only taking her on a handful of trips to see them over the last seventeen years. Raven barely knew her grandparents, and it was all my fault. Danica’s parents had died years ago, so it was only my own family left.

But instead of nurturing the relationship between Raven and her grandfather and grandmother, I’d kept them separated. I’d hired out a woman to clean and cook and act as a stand-in caregiver.

I appreciated Karen a shit ton, but at that moment, her presence was a reminder of yet another thing I’d royally screwed up.

“Andrew,” Karen softly said.

The use of my first name got to me. Karen only dropped the “Mr. Marx” when she was really trying to get a point across.

“You need to keep your strength up,” she said. “For Raven.”

Sighing, I stood. “Right. Soup sounds good.”

A flicker of life coming back to her face, she turned and led the way to the kitchen. Our footsteps echoed in the hallway, the house too quiet. There should have been music playing upstairs, Raven shouting over the railing instead of walking downstairs to just talk to us—an action that had always grated on my nerves but that I now missed so much, it felt like my insides were being wrung like a wet rag.

A dozen times that day, I’d wanted to go into her room just to look at it. A dozen times I’d stopped myself. Moping and moaning would lead nowhere good.

Raven’s not dead. She’s going to wake up.

I made it my mantra as I crossed the living room, a verse I repeated to myself with each step. She would wake up. She had to wake up. Everything would be fine.

After what we’d been through, after losing her mother, after my fucking up and ignoring her for the past ten years, after us finally starting to bond, there was no option but for her to stay with me. Nothing else made sense.

The kitchen smelled of chicken soup and fresh bread, the welcoming scents making my stomach rumble. Settling at the breakfast table, I sat silently while Karen served me.

“I accidentally picked up the unsalted butter,” she said, flitting to the fridge. “Goodness. I’m sorry. I know you like the salted kind. They changed the label on me, and I thought it was the other one. Just all of a sudden.” She set the butter dish on the table and turned right back around. “Now what would you like to drink. There’s iced peppermint tea and lemonade. Oh, but it’s so cold. How about some hot tea? Or I can pour you a whiskey. Or a hot toddy. That sounds nice. It will take a few minutes.”

“Water is fine,” I said, dipping my spoon into the thick soup. An image of the IV in Raven’s arm hit me, and I pushed it away.

Everything reminded me of her. I wanted the thoughts to disappear, and yet, I didn’t want to spend a second thinking about anything else.

“Are you sure?” Karen asked. “Let me make you some tea.”

I attempted a smile. She was dealing with the tragedy by staying busy. No one understood that move better than me. “Right. I’ll have hot tea then.”

“Have you talked to Lanie?” she asked, putting the kettle on. “I hope she’s doing all right.”

I looked back into my soup, my appetite gone. “No. I haven’t.”

Lanie, Lanie, Lanie. While every breath I took was occupied by thoughts of Raven, the spaces in between were taken up by obsessions with Lanie.

I hadn’t meant to hurt her again, and yet, I’d done that anyway. But I didn’t know what else to do. If she stuck with me, I’d only bring her farther down. I possessed enough self-awareness to know I was of no use to anyone in this state.

I’d told her I needed a few days of space, but I didn’t know when I’d be ready to see her again.

Not that I didn’t want to. I craved that woman like a drug, and everything that was happening only made me want her more. To touch her, to breathe her in, to fall asleep next to her and then wake up in her arms, I needed all of that.

But it was a distraction.

What would have happened if the two of us hadn’t gone to the San Juan Islands for the weekend? If, instead, I’d stayed home with Raven? Would this accident not have happened if I’d been more vigilant, a more observant parent? I didn’t even know how long she and Jason had been hanging out or dating or chilling or whatever the hell kids their age called it these days.

I snorted. And to think, I’d thought I was doing so well. I’d believed I was giving Raven everything she needed.

But since she’d made the call to get into a car with a loser such as Jason, apparently that wasn’t the case.

Lanie. Each time I thought of her, a tingle ran up my neck. The last couple weeks before Raven’s accident had been amazing, and I wanted more of that. I wanted Lanie for the rest of my life, but that didn’t mean I could have her.

I needed to get my priorities straight. I’d spent so many years with them all screwed up. I couldn’t afford to fuck around any longer.

Once Raven woke up from that coma, I decided, it was going to be her first and everything else second. It had to be that way.

Yet I still couldn’t shake those curved, full lips, that sweet laugh, the gentle touch, and the warm, brown eyes that had made me come alive.