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Billionaire's Secret Babies (An Alpha Billionaire Secret Baby Romance Love Story) by Claire Adams (195)


BAD BOY BILLIONAIRE VOLUME III

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

ride home that night felt like the longest one ever, and by the time Riley and I got off the train, it was well past dinnertime.

"How about we go home, change our clothes, order a pizza, curl up on the couch, and watch a movie?" I suggested as we rounded the corner and saw that a fleet of fire trucks were parked halfway down the block with lights flashing and equipment strewn across the road.

My heart sank as I picked up the pace and raced toward our house. I was stopped by a captain in a crisp uniform who told me that she needed to see identification.

"That's my house!" I cried as I stood looking at the charred exterior, broken windows, and the muddied lawn in front. I could see the firefighters in their bright yellow jackets and red helmets walking out of the house holding axes and yelling at one another. I thought of Mama. I yelled, “Where's my mother? My mother was in the house!"

"Ma'am," the Captain said as she put a hand on my arm. "Your mother was evacuated, treated for smoke inhalation, and transported by ambulance to the hospital."

"She's okay?" I whispered. "She's not dead?"

"No, ma'am," the Chief said with a grimace. "She was very much alive and kicking when my team pulled her out of the house."

"Did Gram swear at you?" Riley piped up as she looked expectantly at the Chief.

"Indeed, she did," the woman nodded. "She was quite vocal."

"Don't take it personally," Riley said as she patted the chief's arm. "She does that with everyone."

I couldn't contain a small smile as I listened to Riley describe the way Mama talked to those of us who lived with her. I turned my attention back toward the house and realized that we had nothing and nowhere to go.

"Ma'am, your mother told us you have a brother close by. Is that correct?" the chief asked as she pulled out a small notebook and began writing something in it. I nodded as she continued to write. "So you have someplace you can go tonight? Because if you don't, we can have the Red Cross provide you with resources for a hotel room and clothing and things."

"No, my brother will put us up tonight," I said not wanting to think about what came after tonight. I asked, "Do you know what caused the fire?"

"I can't say for certain, but we're pretty sure the blaze originated in the living room," she said as she continued writing. "And it looks like it was probably a cigarette or something similar. It's definitely not arson."

"I see," I said swallowing hard and fighting to keep the tears from falling. "Is the house salvageable?"

"I'm pretty sure it's going to need a whole new living room, but the rest of the house seems to have escaped severe damage," the chief said. "I'd be willing to bet that you can have it back in livable condition in a month or two. I'll give you the case number for the insurance company once the inspectors come out and investigate in a couple of days."

I ran my hand through my hair and, again, fought back the tears as I realized I'd let the insurance policy lapse a few months back when we'd been short on the mortgage payment and Riley had needed new clothes and shoes for school. I didn't want to alarm Riley, so I put my arm around her shoulder and led her away from the burned house.

"Let's go see if Patrick has somewhere we can crash tonight," I said as cheerfully as I could. "Then we'll order pizza and figure out where we're going to live for the next few months, okay?"

"Miss Walsh!" the chief called as Riley and I walked away. She ran after me and handed me a sheet of paper torn out of her notebook. On it were all the numbers to call in order to get the help I'd need to deal with the fallout from the fire. At the bottom of the page was a number with the word Al-Anon written next to it. I looked up at the chief quizzically. She shrugged and said, "In case you need a place to go to talk about it. Your mother was pretty toasted when we pulled her out of there."

"Thank you," I said as I gave her a grateful look. I tucked the paper into my purse before Riley and I continued our trek to Patrick's.

 

*

" you okay?" Patrick asked as he stood in the doorway of the parish house. "Were you there when the fire started?"

"We're fine. We were still at work," I said as Riley and I entered the house and looked around. The living room was equipped with sheets, blankets, and towels set out on the stiff couches. The room smelled musty and old, but I was grateful for a place to stay.

"Mama's at the hospital. They said she's resting comfortably," Patrick said. "I'll go over in the morning and check on her."

"Great," I nodded. "I've got to go to work and Riley's been suspended from school, so I'll take her with me again."

"Leah!" Riley protested as she threw herself down on the nearest couch and pretended to pout. "You said you weren't going to tell anybody!"

"Patrick doesn't count," I said tossing my purse onto the other sofa and shaking my head.

"Gee, thanks," Patrick grumbled with a mischievous smile.

"You know what I mean," I said as I rolled my eyes at him before turning to Riley. "I didn't tell anyone at work, just like I promised."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said waving her hand impatiently. "Are we going to get some dinner soon or what? I'm starving!"

"Listen, missy," I began, only to be cut off by my brother.

"I've got some dinner in the kitchen if you're that hungry," Patrick offered.

"What do you have?" Riley asked eyeing him suspiciously. "Probably liver and brussels sprouts or something, right? Isn't that what God eats?"

"Riley!" I scolded.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" she asked as she looked at Patrick. "God eats all that stuff that's good for you, but that kids hate."

"Well, I don't know about that," Patrick replied with a playful smile. "But I can certainly tell you that the dinner that's in the kitchen is definitely not liver or brussels sprouts!"

Riley reluctantly got up off the couch and dragged her feet across the carpet. I could tell that she was tired, but so was I. I didn't have the heart to nag her to pick up her feet and walk like a normal person. Her spirits lifted when we entered the kitchen and saw a box from our regular pizza place sitting on the table next to two bottles of soda.

"Uncle Patrick! Thank you!" Riley cried as she whipped open the box and pulled out a large slice of pepperoni pizza and bit into it.

"Thanks, Patrick," I said with a grateful smile as I sat down at the table and helped myself to dinner. Patrick nodded, and then quickly exited the kitchen. I wasn't sure what was going on with him, but it had been a long day. I was too tired to dig deeper.

Riley and I quickly polished off the soda and pizza, and then went into the living room to make up the couches. Once we'd done that, Riley looked around for something to do. When she couldn't find a television set or a computer, she began perusing the bookshelf that stretched floor to ceiling across one wall of the living room.

"Wow, there are a lot of books here," she observed as she dropped down and tilted her head to read the titles closest to the floor. "A History of Angels, Angels Among Us, When Angels Walk Among the Living . . . Wow, they really like their angels, don't they?"

Not knowing what to say, I simply nodded, and Riley turned back to the books. For the next hour, I sat making a list of all the things I needed to do. By the time I was done, I felt overwhelmed but more in control. I looked up and saw Riley engrossed in a book she'd found on the shelves.

"Something good?" I asked.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded and kept reading.

"Okay, well, it's time for bed," I prodded. "We need to be up and out of here early tomorrow morning."

Riley got up and went to brush her teeth, leaving the book on the couch. While she was out of the room, I picked the book up and read the title: Orphan at Any Age: Children Who've Lost Parents. I bit my lip and put the book back down.

"We're going to be okay," I said after we'd settled in and shut off the light. "I promise."

"I know, Leah," Riley replied sleepily. "We always are."