“I see, did the rib puncture his lung? What about his blood pressure and what kind of pain meds will he need?” She demands tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. He answers her questions and moves away to put his chart back on the door.
“No, his rib did not puncture the lung. Your father will need time for his collarbone to heal. His leg could take a little longer. He is a sixty-seven-year-old smoker, which needs to stop. I expect him to make a full recovery, but it will take some time and possibly physical therapy.”
“Thank you. I’ve tried for years to get him to stop smoking, but he’s a stubborn ole ox,” her laugh sounds strained even to her ears.
“He was lucky. From what the police told me, he fought hard. Four against one isn’t good odds for anyone.” He pulls a business card out and writes his personal number on it. “Call me if you have any more questions…or if you’d like to grab a drink sometime.”
Anya’s green eyes snap to his and she looks at him closer this time. A tall, handsome, doctor? She could do worse. “Do you give your personal number to all your patient’s family members?” Anya asks with a saucy grin.
“Only the beautiful ones,” he replies and walks away. Anya’s sexy laughter follows him down the hallway.
When she walks back inside the room she stares at her father. He is grumbling and trying to adjust his covers. “Let me help.” Keane sits forward while she adjusts the pillows behind him.
“I’ve surely been a blessed man to have you for a daughter,” Keane says with emotion in his voice.
“Oh, Da. We were both blessed the day you adopted me.” Anya was adopted as a child and unlike some, she never once looked for her “family” because she was content to be loved by him. He never told her about her family and she never asked.
His hand grasps hers tightly, “Anya soon we have to talk about your Mother. Things are changing and it’s time,” his blue eyes are serious and her stomach drops.
“Okay, what’s changing? What do you know about my Mother?” She asks him softly.
“She was… special. I met her once, on the day you were born.” They both jump when the nurse knocks and brings in his dinner tray.
“Time for dinner, Mr. Callahan. Pot roast, carrots, and potatoes with tea.”
“Music to my ears darlin,” he helps adjust his tray. Anya leaves to get fresh ice and water in the pitcher and when she returns the nurse is gone. She has so many questions about her mother, but she is afraid to push him. They gave him more pain medicine with his dinner and now he is struggling to stay awake.
Anya yawns while he eats, her stomach grumbles reminding her that she hasn’t eaten anything but coffee, since breakfast. “Anya, tomorrow morning we will talk more, but tonight I want you to stay at Kathleen’s,” he puts a hand up before she can argue. “The two men that got away took my wallet, and they will be looking for retribution.”
“Okay, Da. Do the police know?”
“Christian is handling it, they’re watching our place, and the Shamrock office. For now, I’d feel better knowing you were safely tucked away. Do it for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Anya is too tired to argue. “I will do as you ask, for now.”
“Good. Now go get some sleep and food. You won’t get any rest here. They keep me up all night checking on me.”
Chapter 4
By the time the cab driver drops her at Katie’s doorstep, all she can think of is a hot shower and bed. When she walks up the front porch, she feels like she’s been gone for weeks. Digging for her keys, Anya finds it hard to fathom that it was only just this morning that she left.
The minute she steps through the front door into the cottage, the silence envelops her. The cottage is clean and quiet, a little too quiet. Katie’s cottage is a small, fifteen hundred square foot house with a combo living room and kitchen. It has three small bedrooms and one bath. Anya has always felt safe here, but without Katie’s peaceful presence the house doesn’t have the same atmosphere. Anya flips on the lights, heading straight to the cabinet where the wine is kept and pours a glass.
“Time for a shower,” she mutters and walks slowly to the bathroom, sipping her wine. She tosses her suitcase on the bed and walks into the bathroom, unaware of the eyes watching her. Anya wraps her black hair in a towel to keep it dry and turns on the shower to steam the room up. Casting off her clothes on the floor, she sighs.
Stepping into the shower, she thinks about the conversation with her dad. He knew her mother. That was news to her. All of this is not making sense and she can’t help but worry about what else she doesn’t know. Anya scrubs quickly and dries off before wrapping her body in a towel. Walking to the sink, she reaches up to wipe the steam off the mirror and screams at the reflection.
The crimson eyes of a demon glare at her and before she can move, he seizes her in a grip of steel and sinks his teeth deeply into the side of her throat. Anya struggles against him, but she is impotent against such strength. In her mind, she hears his wicked laughter. ‘Fight pretty, Katie! I love it
