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“Let’s get you to Jack and Ian.” He was actually trembling as he shut the door and moved around to the driver’s side.
He got in and hit the button for the gate, heading up the driveway.
“You didn’t answer me about when you last ate or drank.”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’m tired.”
“I bet, precious girl. But don’t fall asleep just yet. Stay awake for me.”
He parked the car and then quickly rang Ian.
“What?” He didn’t sound like he’d been asleep.
“Come outside. Now!”
He ended the call and ran around the other side of the car.
Maggie was fumbling with the seatbelt, so he brushed her hands away before undoing it himself and lifting her into his arms again.
She let out a low moan of pain and he froze. “Shit. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Fine.”
The door opened as he was walking up the footpath and Ian stepped out.
Jameson heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Maggie? Fuck! Maggie! Jack!” he roared.
She let out another small cry, turning her head to bury her face in Jameson’s chest.
“Bloody hell, quiet, Ian. You’re upsetting her.” He kept his tone soft.
“I didn’t . . . I would never . . .” Ian stumbled over his words. He nearly stumbled over his feet as he moved toward them. He reached out and touched her head gently. “Little girl, is that really you?”
“I’m not sure,” she whispered in a husky voice. “I think I’m hallucinating. Jameson called me precious.”
“Did he?” Ian asked gently.
“And he talked like he thought . . . like he really thinks I am. But I know he doesn’t like me. He thinks I’m r-ruining everything.”
What the hell was she talking about?
“Sweetheart, why do you think that?” he asked.
“I heard you. You s-said you wanted to f-find someone more s-suitable, that I r-ruined things.”
Fuck. Fuck!
She must have overheard him talking about Elizabeth and thought he was talking about her.
“Precious girl, no. I was talking about my ex. Not you. I never said that about you. I never would”
“W-what?” she asked.
“You misheard me.”
“Oh. Oh no.” Tears slipped down her cheeks.
