“Let her come in,” she said tiredly.
Connor squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be right here, honey.”
Pop walked back to the door and opened it. A few seconds later, Celia Martin walked hesitantly in. She paused several feet from the bed before finally approaching.
For the first time, Faith got a good look at the mother she hadn’t seen in three years. Time hadn’t been good to her. She looked tired, worn, old. Not at all the vibrant young woman Faith remembered from her childhood. She had the regrets of a lifetime reflected in her dull eyes.
Faith waited, not knowing what to say. Thank you? For rescuing her from a situation Celia was responsible for? She swallowed against the rising anger and clenched her jaw until her teeth ached.
Connor stroked his fingers repeatedly over her hands, and she curled her fingers around his, holding on for dear life.
Celia looked up at Pop and Connor first. “I’ll always be grateful to you for all you’ve done for Faith. I failed her. I’m just glad she had you to turn to.”
Faith bit her lip to keep from crying more.
Celia moved closer to Faith and looked as though she too was battling to keep from crying. “I messed up, baby. But then that’s nothing new. I just wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I am. And to thank you for what you said to the police. They aren’t going to press charges against me as long as I testify against Eric.”
“I’m glad,” Faith whispered.
“I hoped…I hoped maybe we could get together sometime. Maybe when you’re better.”
Faith tensed, and again, Connor stroked his thumb over her hand in an effort to calm her.
“I’m s-sorry. I just can’t do this right now,” Faith said. The knot grew so big in her throat that it was hard to breathe around. More tears slipped down her cheeks, and she damned them. “I need you to go away.” It was hard to keep the hurt from her voice. Her utter sense of betrayal. At the moment, she felt let down by everyone she’d ever loved.
She shut her eyes and turned her face into the pillow as the sobs mounted in her throat.
“That’s enough,” Pop said tersely. “She’s had enough.”
“Of course. I’m sorry,” Celia said. “I’ll go now.”
“Shhh, honey, don’t cry,” Connor said as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’ll only make your head hurt worse.”
“I want to go home,” she said in a muffled voice.
“I’ll talk to the doctor and see what he says,” Pop said soothingly.
As he walked away, she only cried harder. Thank God they weren’t noisy, gulping sobs, because it would have split her head right open. Instead silent streams of tears ran down her cheeks. Faster and faster. Like a dam breaking.
Connor eased onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. He didn’t say anything, just held her while she cried and occasionally dropped a kiss on top of her head.
A few minutes later, Pop walked in, and close on his heels came the doctor. The doctor frowned when he got a good look at her.
“Your father tells me you’re ready to be discharged, but I hesitate to send you home when you’re visibly upset. Are you in any pain?”
She shook her head, nearly wincing with the effort. “I just want to go home,” she whispered.
“She’ll go home with us,” Pop interjected. “And straight to bed. She won’t so much as lift a finger. You have my personal guarantee.”
“Well her CT scans all came back normal, and other than that bump on her noggin, her other injuries are negligible. I’ll consent to discharging her, but if her condition worsens, if she feels nauseated or has vomiting or her level of consciousness decreases, I want her back here ASAP.”
Pop nodded. “We’ll watch her. You have my word.”
“All right then. I’ll give the nurse her discharge orders. Someone should be down in a little bit to send her home.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Pop said.
After the doctor left, Pop walked to her side and patted her arm. “We’ll get you home and taken care of. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”
She nodded, but a heavy feeling descended on her chest. She’d tried really hard not to focus on Gray, but now that the issue of her mother had been dealt with, he was all that was left. As cowardly as it sounded, she just didn’t have the strength to face him right now.
CHAPTER 40
Gray awoke with a start. Sunshine blasted through the window, hitting him square in the eyes. Which told him he’d slept entirely too damn late.
He rolled over, and his body screamed in protest. When he hit his wounded shoulder, his breath left him in a staggered gasp.
Ignoring the protests of his body, he shoved himself out of bed and stumbled over to retrieve the watch he’d taken off the night before. Ten-fucking-thirty.
He left the room with a bang and nearly tripped over his shoes in the hallway. Bending, and nearly passing out with the effort, he scooped up his shoes and walked into the living room.
“So the dead has awakened,” Micah said from where he was slouched on the sofa.
“You should have damn well woke me up hours ago,” Gray snarled.
Micah lifted a brow. “You needed the sleep, and Faith wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Except I need to see her,” Gray bit out. “I have a lot of explaining to do.”
Micah shrugged. “As soon as you get your shoes on, we’ll go.”
Gray sat down and yanked his shoes on. Then he shoved himself upright again and looked expectantly at Micah.
“Okay, okay, man, I’m coming,” Micah said as he got up from the couch. “You ought to have someone look at that shoulder while we’re at the hospital. Make sure your arm isn’t going to rot off or something.”
Gray glared at him. “I’m taking the antibiotics. It’ll be fine.”
They walked out of the apartment and climbed into Micah’s truck.
“Have you heard from Pop this morning?” Gray asked as they drove off. “Do you know how she’s doing?”
“Nope. Nothing yet. She’s probably still sleeping.”
Gray sighed impatiently. Not seeing her, touching her, holding her was driving him nuts. He should have been there with her. Soothed her hurts. Comforted her when she was scared. It tore his damn guts out that some cop had found her out on the streets, scared half out of her mind and running for her life.