Let It Be Me (Men of the Misfit Inn #1) - Kait Nolan Page 0,3
Liya Chahal sat back, addressing him, though she kept her dark eyes on Fiona. “She’s banged up, has some bruises and cuts from flying glass. But all in all, she’s physically remarkably unharmed.”
That was something, at least.
“Will she be cleared to leave?”
“Medically, yes.”
They both knew there’d be legal paperwork to hash out in terms of who the girl would be allowed to leave with. Who knew how long that would take?
A nurse knocked on the door before slipping inside. “There’s someone at the front desk pitching a fit to get back here for Miss Gaffney. An Emerson Aldridge?”
The hand holding Caleb’s tightened as Fiona jolted upright. “Auntie Em?” She started to scramble off the bed.
“Hold it.” Gently, Caleb pressed her back. “You stay put.”
“But—”
“I’ll bring her to you.” There were things he needed to tell the woman before she got back here. Things he hadn’t felt comfortable getting into over the phone with a traumatized fourteen-year-old listening in.
Fiona’s eyes skittered to their joined hands.
Caleb squeezed, hoping she found the touch reassuring. “We’ll be right back. I promise.”
“I’ll stay,” the nurse offered. The entire emergency department already knew what they were dealing with here. News traveled fast.
After a long moment, Fiona’s grip loosened, and Caleb slipped out of the room. On the way through the familiar labyrinth of hallways, he braced himself for what was coming. It didn’t matter how many times he’d had to do it, these notifications never got any easier.
A water-logged woman stood at the triage desk, her hands white-knuckling the edge as she clearly struggled not to scream at the nurse on duty. “I was told she’s here. I need to see her.”
“Ma’am, as I said, if you’re not family—”
“How many times do I have to tell you? Her father is not involved. I’m her godmother. I am the next closest thing to family.”
“Emerson Aldridge?”
The woman whipped her head around at the sound of Caleb’s voice. The carefully rehearsed words bled out of his brain as panicked blue eyes met his. The relative chaos of the waiting room faded away as he fell into those eyes, soaking up the sense of recognition, even though he knew he’d never seen her before.
It’s you.
Startled by his own thought, he snapped out of his stupor and closed the distance and nodded to the nurse. “I’ve got this, Janette.”
“Where’s Fiona?”
“I’ll take you to her. C’mon.” He gestured toward the double doors, and she hustled toward them. “I’m Caleb Romero—the one who called you. You need to know right off that Fiona is okay. Minor injuries.” It was the only comfort he’d be able to offer her tonight.
A little of the terror etched on her face faded as they pushed through the doors. But Emerson was sharp. “Could you not reach her mother?”
This was the part he hadn’t wanted to tell her over the phone. Navigating her into one of the empty rooms off to the side, he shut the door. Emerson didn’t move toward any of the chairs. Her whole body drew taut, and he recognized that, deep down, she already knew what was coming.
Tunneling a hand through his hair, Caleb sighed. “Fiona’s mother was in the car. She didn’t make it.”
Like a puppet with suddenly cut strings, Emerson collapsed. It was instinct to catch her, to pull her against his body, as if he could somehow offer protection from the truth. She sucked in a ragged breath, and he waited for the scream of rage and pain. But she didn’t make a sound as she wilted into him, her hands curled to ineffectual fists against his chest. Her silent, potent grief swamped them both for long minutes. Caleb felt a little like a voyeur. He didn’t know this woman. But he knew this pain. So he held her, until she found the strength to stand again.
“You were there?” The question rasped out, as if her vocal cords had been torched.
“I saw it happen. I pulled Fiona out. There wasn’t—” He stopped himself. The driver’s side of the car had taken the brunt of the impact. She didn’t need that horror in her head. “Her mom was already gone.”
Emerson closed her eyes, absorbing that. Maybe she’d take comfort in the fact that death had been all but instant.
“Thank you for saving Fi.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Does she know?”
“Yes.”
She visibly armored up, pulling herself together for the sake of the child in a way that impressed the hell out of him. As she straightened, she seemed to register she