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He’d never walked out on a high-dollar client before but didn’t think twice about doing so now.
“She mentioned the photo,” Jem was saying. “Said one of her attackers mentioned the photo.”
And a little piece of the world started to make sense. Kacey needed him because of the job he was doing for her. She’d probably asked for Bo, too.
“Lacey wants to know if you can meet us at the house.”
“Of course.” Bo was probably already on his way. Together the four of them, Jem, Lacey, Bo and Mike, would be there for Kacey. They’d take care of her.
She’d be fine.
“We’ll call you as soon as we’re leaving here,” Jem said.
On his way to the outer office to speak with the men and women who’d given up their Friday night for him, he nodded before he realized Jem couldn’t see him. “Fine,” he said. And hung up.
His staff had orders in less than five minutes and then Mike was in his car. He managed to make a quick call to his sister, saying only that he had a second emergency that evening and would have to explain later. He asked Diane to head over to his place.
Leaving Willie alone for the evening was one thing. He didn’t feel good about doing so for an entire night.
Or into the night.
He called Willie, too, just to give his brother a heads-up.
And then, family all spoken to and situated, he tossed his phone to the seat beside him and broke the speed limit all the way to the hospital.
If Kacey was asking for him, he had to be there.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MORE THAN ANYTHING, the bright lights were bothering her. Glaringly bright. Like stage lights.
But she wasn’t on stage. She was lying in a hospital bed that was raised to a partially sitting up position.
“Where are my clothes?” she asked her sister. “I want to get dressed.” Jem had left to make a phone call—presumably to his friend Dillon, who’d been having the barbecue. They’d left Levi there.
They had to go get him, and she was going to leave with them.
They couldn’t keep her at the hospital. They’d said she’d be released that night. But she wanted to go right away.
“We’re just waiting on the X-rays they took of your wrist, Kace.”
Her wrist. It hurt like hell. She welcomed the pain. It gave her something immediate and physical to focus on other than the attack. Lacey stood beside the bed. She’d barely left her side, even when they’d been working on her.
Kacey looked into those beautiful blue eyes, identical to hers, and then turned her head so that Lacey’s hand was cupping her cheek rather than just fooling with her sand-and tear-mucked hair.
“We aren’t the same anymore,” she whispered, and closed her eyes against the tears that she wasn’t sure would ever completely stop. Lacey bent over, kissed her other cheek. “Of course we are. I feel you right now, Kace, just like I always do.”
When she felt a tear, not her own, drip to her cheek, Kacey looked up. “You always tell me not to walk on the beach alone at night.”
The blue eyes looking at her grew hard as stone. “This. Was. Not. Your. Fault.” Lacey’s teeth were gritted over every word.
She nodded. Because Lacey needed her to do so. But she knew differently. The teenagers were to blame. Hugely. But she’d put herself out there.
“I exude,” she said. They had to be clear here about everything. She couldn’t stand any more lies between them. Any more “not seeing” what was right in front of her.
“Those guys were one-hundred percent guilty, Kace. The police will find them. And they’re going to pay.”
She nodded. She’d given a pretty good description, or so the forensic artist who’d done the sketches had said. But it had been dark. She didn’t even know hair color for any of them.
