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CHAPTER 47
COLLEEN
“Thanks for your help,” Colleen said to a hospital security guard as she left the elevator.
“My pleasure,” the guard said, tipping his hat. “I’ll stay here until you’re ready to leave and then escort you to a taxi.”
The press had been staked out in front of the hospital and O’Connor Tower since the shooting, so thankfully the hospital arranged to have her escorted in through a back door. It was unsettling to deal with shouted questions every time she went anywhere. Nothing was off limits for these people. She was asked if she had worked out a reconciliation between Finn and his father, why she was unemployed, and if Finn had proposed on his deathbed.
“Good morning,” Colleen said to the staff at the nurse’s station. For this first time in days, she’d had a good night’s sleep and was confident that Finn would be home soon. She looked forward to taking care of him as he healed at home. She’d make all his favorite dishes, especially his mom’s macaroni and cheese, and planned to pamper him every day.
Mateo, one of Finn’s nurses, lifted his head up from the computer. “Hey, how are you?”
“I’m doing great. How’s Finn this morning?”
“He’s doing well. No fever, no sign of infection. His mom stayed here last night, but she left about an hour ago.”
That was great news. Maybe he would be released sooner than the doctor had originally suggested. “Is this a good time for me to see him?”
Mateo scrolled through his computer. “Dr. Chan is doing his rounds, but Finn is the last patient on his schedule. So, yeah. Go for it.”
“Thanks, Mateo,” she called over her shoulder as she walked down the hall to Finn’s room. When she got there, she peeked inside. “Hi.”
Finn looked up from his phone, his expression was guarded. “Hey,” he said, placing his phone on the bed table.
“I missed you,” she said, giving him a soft kiss. His eyes fluttered close and his lips were not responsive. Something was wrong. “Mateo told me you’re doing well.” She ran a hand through his hair and assessed him carefully. He didn’t quite flinch, but his eyes avoided hers.
Finn gently took her hand away from him and rolled his neck.
“Are you okay?” she asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. Yesterday he was in good spirits and now, everything was different. Her chest tightened with increased foreboding that there was a serious problem.
His stoic expression gave nothing away. “How was your trip to the hospital this morning?”
“I don’t understand.” Was he referring to the usual morning traffic jams?
“Any problems with the press?”
“They’ve been crawling all over O’Connor Tower.” Was this what was bothering him? “Why are you asking about the press?”
“And how about here at the hospital?” he asked, his anger just below the surface.
He was shutting her out. “I—I was taken through a private—”
“Exactly what I thought,” he said, rubbing his chin.
“Is that what’s bothering you? You got shot instead of your father. Of course, the press is all over the story. The attention won’t last forever.” Panic rose in her voice. She took a deep breath, reached for his hand and said in a deliberate, reassuring voice. “Once you come home, everything will return to normal.” He pulled his hand away. She wanted to grab for his hand, but instead she took a closer look at him. Something was very wrong. It was as if her world was slipping through her fingers.
“It won’t end. Once I get home, they’ll follow me, you, and us everywhere. The appetite for this shit is endless. I’m not going to put you through it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want to end this now before something else happens.”
“What?” she asked in disbelief. What he was saying was impossible. Dread slithered its way through her stomach as she tried to accept the possibility that he meant what he said. “You can’t be serious.”
His eyes, once so alive, stared back at her flat and expressionless. “I am serious.”
“Is this because of media attention?” This was still manageable. She’d just have to convince him she was strong enough to handle anything that came at her.
