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I bent and kissed her forehead. “And you are beautiful. Always.”
I stood beside the bed, studying Penelope. She was still so pale. Some of the lesser cuts had begun to heal, and a few of the bruises were yellowed.
As exhausted as I was, I felt renewed having her in the private facility. Like this was a major step forward in her recovery.
I had some relief that she was out of the hospital . . . which was absurd. She’d just moved from one to another.
Gently, I brushed my thumb over her cheek. “I won’t let you not be okay.”
JoJo let out a strangled sob. I kept my back to her, and judging by the quiet that followed, she quickly collected herself.
“Dr. Hotshot supposedly knows what he’s doing. I have a feeling you’ll like him, as does your mother.” I clasped her fingers as best I could in mine, careful not to further injure her hand. “Should I be jealous that she wants to keep him around? That old doctor, I’m not worried about.”
A snort came from behind me.
“Barn thinks it’s funny.” I flattened my lips. “You would too.” I moved a piece of hair away from her face. “The two of you are going to laugh at my expense all the time, aren’t you?”
As long as Penelope was awake and well, she could make fun of me all she wanted.
“I’m trying to be more like you,” I said quietly. “It’s not as easy as you make it look.”
A twist of pain and anger twined around my heart. It hurt to see Penelope in this condition. And it pissed me off, especially since it wasn’t an accident.
Alma hadn’t lasted long under Donato Salvatore’s coercion. Peters threw the cinder block, but Alma had been there to witness the entire thing. I couldn’t say that to Penelope. Didn’t want her to know her own biological mother was capable of such a thing.
“I want to vow retribution, but I’m not sure that’s what you want. Sometimes, I think it’s more for me,” I admitted. “I’m not sure I can let this go without some sort of retaliation.”
“You’ve started the war,” Whitley said as he entered the room, approaching the opposite side of the bed and pulling papers from his briefcase.
“Any idea where I can find the other party who needs to sign this?”
CHAPTERTWELVE
JOJO
I’d forgottenabout the divorce proceedings.
In all the chaos of preparing Penelope to move, it had somehow slipped my mind this was the day Patrick had a hearing with the judge.
Had Kane remembered?
I felt sure he had. He’d been working toward this for two decades in so many ways.
“Actually, you sign first,” Patrick said quietly, respectful of Penelope. He pulled a pen from the breast pocket of his shirt.
Kane didn’t move.
I found myself still too, watching to see what he’d do. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted? To be free of Alma? Yet he seemed to be hesitating.
He couldn’t want to work things out with her, could he? Not after what she’d done.
I was being silly. Ridiculous.
But every second that ticked by with him unmoving amped up my worry. I wouldn’t continue to be with a married man. I’d only done so to this point because, for all practical purposes, their relationship was over.
At least I thought it was.
Uncertainty crept into my already fragile state.
