She didn’t react. Intimidation was his usual way of communicating. Wayde never out-and-out said he’d hurt Max, but the implication was always clear. “Keep me happy, and Max will be fine.”
He turned to leave and glanced back when he reached the door. “I reckon I’ll bring Max tonight. Seein’ him’ll remind you to keep your mouth shut, and do as I say.” He chuckled and walked away. “Love ya—darlin’.”
The teasing singsong goodbye annoyed her.
Once the clatter of his footsteps faded into the distance, her tense body lay back, surrendering to the softness of the bed. The adrenaline that had overcome her vanished, allowing her thoughts to drift back five months prior. She had met Wayde online. He said he was searching for her brother, Drew, wanting to catch up with him and inadvertently found her. He was Drew’s Sergeant. He lured her with his charm and the promise to help find Drew who went missing after returning home from Afghanistan. They forged a friendship, and three months later, despite the fact she was still legally married to her estranged husband, Nick, she moved to Florida, hoping for a better future for her and her son. Shortly after moving in with Wayde, she realized he wasn’t anyone she should’ve gotten involved with. Every word he said was a fabrication. It didn’t take long for her to both hate and fear him.
Just as she was about to drag herself from the bed, the door opened, and a nurse with a clipboard peeked in.
“Need to get your vitals.”
Kinsley sat up on the side of the bed and nodded her in. The nurse wasted no time as she popped a plastic sheathed, electronic thermometer into her mouth and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. The cuff expanded, squeezing until her arm was numb and tingling as if tiny pins danced beneath her skin.
The nurse looked at the numbers on the blood pressure machine. “Perfect. Seems the medication and fluids the doctor ordered were just what you needed. Still, we’ll be keeping an eye on you.” The nurse shook her head, chastising her. “You should’ve let us leave the IV in. Breakfast is in a half-hour, and you have an appointment with Dr. Pierce at ten. Someone will be in later to check on you. Let me know if you need anything.” Not waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, letting the door swing shut behind her.
Within minutes, Kinsley’s stomach growled with nauseating emptiness. Eating sounded like a good idea. She got up to open the closet door and looked around. The room, she was sure, cost a small fortune. Decorated in pale greens, with white wicker furniture, plush floral carpet, and fresh-cut flowers on the dressing table, it was peaceful. Unlike the ramshackle house that Wayde lived in. It left her longing for the safety and comfort of her home in New York. Regardless, emotions couldn’t rule her fate. She reminded herself to be positive and pushed the thought away. Today, she needed to convince the doctor that she felt fine. She had never experienced fainting or an anxiety attack, and her blood pressure had always been within normal range. She was a healthy twenty-eight year-old woman. Surely, he’d see that.
Another goal would be to make a phone call. If she contacted her husband, Nick, in New York, they would work something out, and she’d be certain Max was safe. Life with Nick was often unhappy—and lonely. After almost seven years of marriage, she eventually gave up. Still, having to face that she shut him and everyone else out to go live with Wayde wasn’t easy. Having to admit she’d been so reckless to put herself and her child at risk tormented her. The safest place for Max would be with Nick, at least for now. His grandmother, Angela, would help; she loved Max, and him staying with them a few days would be fine. Although Kinsley’s feelings for Nick paled in comparison to what they once were, she needed him. Her son deserved a normal life, and she was going to make sure he lived one. If Nick would have her, she would do what whatever was necessary to make things right.
~ ~ ~
The pool and patio of the Wentworth Estate in Sterling Shore, New York rivaled the best hotels. Luxury was a given. That, and influence. Each paired well with the Wentworth name.
Refreshed from his morning swim, Xavier Wentworth shook the water from his thick