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Chapter Thirteen
Glen liked Tanner the instant they shook hands. Maybe because Demi so obviously doted on the man, even possibly because the kitty seemed very much at home curled on his chest.
And he felt that way right up until he’d removed his outer gear and joined them at the lunch table to eat a bowl of his favorite soup. That’s when he noticed the strained shock on Demi’s face.
He reached out to touch her arm and then pulled back when she shot her gaze to his. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“What? Knew what?”
“That Whit’s alive and hiding in Miami.”
His heart plopped to the floor writhing in a puddle of unspoken excuses. “Yeah.”
She seemed to look right through him and then turned to Tanner who’d kept quiet during the episode. “Glen would do anything for Whit, even lie for him.”
Glen watched to see how that news affected the tall imposing agent slouching in the chair he usually used.
In a slow, enquiring tone, Tanner replied, “No doubt he had good reason.” The inquisitive stare that followed cut deeply. “A man’s best friend asks a favor and it’s hard to say no. Right, Glen?”
Praying his answer would take away the betrayal he’d seen on Demi’s face, he nodded, cleared his throat, and added, “Especially if that friend saved your life a number of times in a nasty fucking fire. When it’s your turn to do something that means everything to him, even if you know it’ll be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do, how does a good man say no?”
Demi stood slowly as if the world rested on her shoulders. She moved behind his chair, and he sat rigid, waiting for the words that would deprive him of everything he loved. For sure, she’d kick him out for putting Whit ahead of her. And he didn’t have the words to explain the pain he’d seen on Whit’s face, and the reasoning he’d used to decide to do as his buddy had asked.
As he began to rise… to gather his stuff, rather than make her have to ask him to get out, he felt her arms come around his neck, anchoring him in his seat. When she leaned her face next to his and kissed his cheek, he couldn’t help it. The tears gathered in his eyes and the sob broke through his guilt. “I’m sorry, Demi. I couldn’t say no. He begged me to keep his secret. He wanted to come back to us, he really did, but he couldn’t. Not yet. But he’s doing everything he can to get better.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Her voice was husky with remorse. “Whatever it is, it wouldn’t have mattered. We’d have welcomed him home. Didn’t he know that?”
“He’s a proud man. It’s all I can say. So you know, he’s been watching over us all along. He sends me messages, giving me instructions on what to do here so we’re safe. He cares a lot, Demi.”
“But he doesn’t trust us… no, me. He doesn’t trust me, does he?”
Tanner cut in then with a sentence that made more sense than anything else either of them could have said. “Why don’t you ask him?”
Chapter Fourteen
Whit couldn’t believe that the time had finally arrived for his operation. He’d be going into the hospital early the next morning and then he’d have his answer as to whether he’d be going back to Alaska or finding somewhere else to live.
Just the thought of failure made his nerves scream at him to stop dwelling on the negative. Hadn’t he done everything he could? He’d made a deal with the hotel, and they’d been willing to let him keep his room for whatever time he’d need to recuperate once allowed to leave the hospital.
He’d had the last appointment with his plastic surgeon who admitted that the left side of his face would always bear some marks from the fire but the skin around his eyes looked almost as good as new. Time would heal those wounds eventually, so he had to be patient and take the doc at his word since he couldn’t see it for himself… no matter how much he peered into the mirror.
God, the word patience should be tattooed on his chest. Never in his life had he been forced to control himself to such an extent. Everything had pretty much fallen in place the way he’d always wanted… expected.
If he’d had one obstacle to overcome, it had been the loss of his mother. But even that could be explained away as God’s will. All of his career choices, his life decisions had come easy.
Over the last few months, he’d had to come to grips with the knowledge that he wasn’t a favored son, that he’d have to deal with his share of nasty too, and it depended on how one did so as to the character of the man.
Until a few days ago he’d been all swelled up in thinking he’d been a hero. Saving his loved ones from worry and having to deal with a freak of nature… a blind man.
Then the messages from Glen stopped. With the help of his powerful magnifier, he been able to read those watched-for, waited-for tiny windows into life back home and had done so often. And with the help of the daily cleaning girl, Maria, he’d been able to send his own messages back. Now… nothing.
Worry began to eat away at his self-righteous attitude.
Because of his own stupid, selfish choices, he was unable to reach out by phone and make inquiries. How could he just call now as if he hadn’t been missing? Realizing what his egotism had done to him, his stupid self-pity, he held his head in his hands, hating the emptiness.
Christ, if only the operation were over, and he knew already if he’d be seeing-impaired for the rest of his life or normal… as normal as he could be that is. Not that it would matter. Not after he’d spent the last few days looking inward and seeing the selfish asshole that he was.
Stiffly, he chuckled without any humor at the words he’d used.Lookingat himself.Seeinghimself. Did everything have to be about his sight… and him? What about inner feelings? His knowing he’d betrayed the very people he loved most.
