Then she suddenly crumpled against him, crying against his chest.
The kindness in the housekeeper’s face had disappeared. She gave him a searing look as she wheeled her cart through the door. “Two-timer. Shame on you,” she hissed before the door closed between them.
Adam carefully wrapped his arms around Laurel’s heaving shoulders.
Her hands were fists between them. “I didn’t l-leave him with his fa-ather,” she hiccupped. “I just left h-h-him!”
He closed his eyes, swearing inside.
He should have told her. But he’d still had three days left to figure out how.
“Why?” She took no notice as he began backtracking along the hallway, trying to get her to walk with him, but her feet only dragged. He swung her into his arms and carried her swiftly back to his room.
“Why did I do such a h-horrible thing?” Her face was buried against his neck and she pounded her fist on his back.
If pounding on him made her feel better, he’d take it. “We’ll figure it out,” he said huskily, though he had no idea how. He had to set her down long enough to unlock his room, which first entailed unwrapping her fisted arms. Not an easy task when she was clinging so tightly. “Come on, sweetheart—”
“Figure out what?” She was beyond logic, her breath a constant wheeze as she cried and swung out wildly again. “That I’m a monster?”
He caught her wrists before she hurt herself and shoved open the door with his foot, carrying her around the waist to get her inside. “You’re not a monster.”
“What else is a mother who abandons her own child?”
“A woman who obviously believed she had no other choice.” The door swung closed behind them, latching hard. “And you didn’t abandon him. You left him at a place you trusted to keep him safe.” He cautiously set her free. “How did you find out?”
“So you knew. You really knew.” Her eyes were ravaged. She was trembling wildly and she wrapped her arms around herself, backing all the way across the room to the window overlooking the freeway. “And you said nothing!”
He raked his fingers through his hair. He’d never done well with feeling helpless. He wanted to slam his fist into something. He wanted to find a way to take away her pain and there wasn’t one damn thing he could do to make that happen. “Laurel.” He kept his voice steady. “How did you find—”
“The internet,” she practically screamed.
They both jerked when someone pounded on the door. “Mr. Fortune, please open the door immediately or we’ll enter without your help.”
Laurel covered her face with her hands, sinking down into a ball right there against the wall next to the window. She’d gone from screaming to crying, and great wrenching sobs shook her too-narrow shoulders, ripping right through Adam’s soul.
He jerked the door open. “What the hell—”
A hotel security guard and a female police officer stood on the other side. “Please move aside, sir,” the officer said brusquely. Her hand rested on her her billy club.
He backed away. “What—”
“A disturbance was reported.” The guard’s tone was flat. He stepped in front of Adam, as if he intended to block him if necessary. “Ma’am,” he called above Laurel’s sobs, “are you all right?”
“Does she look all right?” Adam asked between his teeth. He was a foot taller than the guard. He could have easily pushed him out of the way, but knew he’d only exacerbate the situation if he did. “She’s upset. She’s had a shock.”
The officer was approaching Laurel.
“Let’s move out into the hallway, sir.”
“You don’t understand—”
“You don’t understand,” the guard returned, looking combative. “Hallway. Now.”
Muttering an oath, Adam moved into the doorway. One foot in the hall, one foot not. “This is as far as I go, buddy. I’m not leaving her.”
The police officer was crouched next to Laurel now. Whatever she was saying was too low for Adam to hear.
“Yeah, I’ve seen your type,” the guard said. “Think you can keep a woman against her will—”
“I’m not keeping her against her will!”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
The police officer had risen again and was crossing the room toward them. “She says she’s here voluntarily, but she has no identification.”
“Right, because she—”
“Sir, you’d best keep your mouth shut,” the guard cut him off pugnaciously. “And of course she’s gonna say that. She’s been terrorized—”
“She has not been terrorized,” Adam said through his teeth. “Not by me.”
“You’d say that, wouldn’t you?”
“For the love of—” Adam reached for his wallet and the guard slammed his arm across Adam’s chest, pinning him back against the door of the room.
“Now’s not the time for sudden moves,” the guard warned.
The door handle dug painfully into Adam’s back. “And now’s not the time for you to be enjoying your job so much,” he warned in return.
Laurel was no longer crying hysterically. Her head was buried in her arms, resting on her raised knees. If she was aware of what was happening in the doorway of the hotel room, she wasn’t showing it.
He looked toward the police officer, hoping for more reason from her than the guard. “Her name is Laurel Hudson,” he said evenly. “She doesn’t have identification because it was destroyed in an accident nearly six months ago.”
The guard snorted disbelievingly. “Who’re you trying to kid?”
Adam ignored him and the damn handle digging into his back and kept his focus on the police officer. “Her doctor’s name is Mariel Granger,” he said steadily. “She’ll confirm what I’m telling you. She’s in Seattle, at Fresh Pine Rehabilitation, and her phone number is in my wallet. Which is in my back pocket if Rambo here will back off an inch.”
The guard pressed his forearm even harder against Adam’s chest. “Sounds like more bull if you ask me.”
“I’m not,” the police officer said curtly. She gestured. “Let him go, Frankie.”
“But—”
“Frankie.” The officer’s voice sharpened.
Frankie didn’t bother masking his reluctance. He dug his elbow into Adam’s
