Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Imogene
“You must be happy to be breaking out of here,” Mom said as she folded some of the clothes Henry had brought to me from my townhouse at the beginning of my hospital stay.
After two long weeks, my doctors had finally cleared me to go back to San Diego. As grateful as I was for everything the staff here did to save my life, I was looking forward to being somewhere other than this damn hospital. Somewhere peaceful.
Somewhere that I wasn’t woken up every few hours to have my vitals checked yet again.
“I’m definitely ready for life to return to normal.” I gritted a smile. “Or as normal as possible, all things considered.” I gave her a knowing look. “Are you sure you and Lachlan don’t want to come down to San Diego?”
“We’ll be back to check on you soon, but we thought it was better if we gave you some time to get settled in with Gideon.” She winced slightly. “Samuel. I’m not really sure what to call him.” She laughed under her breath.
“I’m not sure, either,” I admitted honestly. “All things considered, it’s probably best to stick to Gideon.” I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, growing uneasy as I recalled my conversation with Agent Myers several days ago.
I hadn’t told Gideon or my parents about it. I didn’t know what to say. I convinced myself nothing would come of Myers’ so-called “theory”. Or maybe I simply hoped nothing would come of it. After all, he didn’t have any proof to back up his assertions.
For all intents and purposes, Samuel Tate was dead. Agent Myers said it himself. The only proof he had that Samuel Tate might still be alive was his fingerprints on the glass at Alton Sinclair’s cabin that could have been left there several years ago.
But something about Agent Myers made me think he could be a problem.
“How are you doing with…everything?” Mom asked, pulling my attention back to her.
Despite the fact that my parents had been here every day since the accident, this was the first time I had any meaningful alone time with my mom. Typically, either Lachlan or Gideon was also around. Especially Gideon. While I understood the guilt he felt over the accident and his need to prove himself to me, his constant presence had been somewhat suffocating.
But right now, it was just my mom and me. I had a feeling she sensed I needed this time with her before she returned to Atlanta.
“I have Samuel back.” I forced a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be happy about that?”
“I still can’t believe it. You told me about your suspicions, but I didn’t think it was possible.”
“You and me both.”
She gave me an understanding smile before her expression turned serious. “But is it Samuel you want?” She set the last t-shirt inside my duffel bag, then sat in the chair beside my wheelchair. “Or Gideon?”
I parted my lips, but hesitated, not immediately answering. It shouldn’t have even been a question in my mind.
For years, I would have given anything to have Samuel back. I finally did. And not only in body, but also in spirit. Since the accident, Gideon had been like a different person. Like Samuel again.
Just like I wanted.
Then why did it feel like something was missing?
“I love Samuel,” I finally said.
It was the only truthful thing I could muster. But it didn’t escape my mother’s notice that I failed to actually answer the question.
“Regardless of the things he may have done, Gideon was still a good person, Imogene,” she encouraged softly. “Maybe over the next few weeks, you can help him see that.”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything, ruminating her words over in my mind for several moments until the door opened and Lachlan and Gideon walked in.
But he didn’t look like Gideon anymore.
He didn’t look like Samuel, either. Not really. He was dressed more casually than he typically did, wearing dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It almost felt like he was trying to be Samuel again but didn’t know how.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked softly.
I gave him an overly enthusiastic smile, hoping to hide any disappointment or confusion. “Definitely.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, kid.” Lachlan gave me a gentle hug, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Thanks for being here.”
“Anything for you. You know that.”
I met his eyes. He may not have been my father by blood, but since he walked into my mother’s life all those years ago, he filled the role of my father in a way my sperm donor never had.
“I do.”
“We’ll be out to visit soon.”
“Looking forward to it.”
He gave me one last hug, then turned toward Gideon. “You’ll take good care of my girl.”
It wasn’t a question. More like a statement. Or a demand.
Gideon gave him a curt nod and extended his hand. “Imogene is my priority. Nothing else.”
Lachlan took his hand, and the two men embraced briefly in a bro-hug.
“Call if you need anything,” Mom chimed in, leaning down to give me a tight squeeze. “Or if you just want to talk.”
“I will,” I promised her.
“And don’t push yourself too hard,” she added sternly. “I know you want to get back to normal as soon as possible, but it’ll take some time.”
“Yes, Mom,” I playfully groaned, but I couldn’t fault her.
Even though I routinely warned my patients not to overdo it because it could sometimes cause more harm than good, I wanted to get back on my feet as quick as possible.
Wanted to put this chapter of my life behind me and only look toward my future.
But was it a future with Gideon?
Or Samuel?
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t overdo it,” Gideon assured her.
“Thank you.”
He gave her a brief hug and kiss, then looked my way. “Are you ready?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
He moved behind my wheelchair and pushed me into the hallway, where a nurse stepped in to take over.
To my surprise, several security guards were also waiting.
“What’s going on?” I asked Gideon, confused about why we were heading in a different direction from the elevator. “Where are we going?”
“To the loading docks. A car is waiting for us there.”
“Why?”
“Reporters are still camped in front of the hospital. Everyone’s hoping to get a soundbite from the woman who was nearly killed by a U.S. Senator.”
There was a sharp edge to his voice, and I could sense his frustration. “You’ll need to put this on.” He pulled a baseball cap out of a shopping bag.
“A Dodgers hat?” I eyed it warily. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m an Atlanta fan.”
“As am I. But I can’t send you out there wearing a hat with their logo. It’ll be a dead giveaway it’s you. You can take it off once we’re on the freeway.”
“Fine,” I huffed, reluctantly putting on the hat as the nurse pushed me into the freight elevator.
When we reached the basement, the doors opened and the nurse wheeled me toward a pair of open double doors, even more security guards lingering nearby. I wasn’t sure this much security presence was necessary, but if I’d learned anything during my time with Gideon, it was that he didn’t take my safety lightly.
Still, this all seemed like overkill. Was there something more going on than just keeping reporters at bay?
As we approached an idling black SUV, Henry jumped out and opened the back door, giving my arm a small squeeze before getting in behind the wheel once more. Gideon helped me stand, keeping me steady as I climbed into the back seat. He placed a blanket over my stomach before pulling the seatbelt across my torso.
The second Gideon slid in beside me, Henry put the car into drive and pulled away from the loading dock.
As we passed the front of the hospital, it quickly became clear why Gideon insisted we leave through the loading dock. Dozens upon dozens of reporters swarmed the area, vultures ready to pounce on anyone who looked remotely like me.
“What do they want?” I mumbled partly to myself.
“What most reporters do these days,” Gideon ground out, his jaw tight. “To capitalize on what happened to you, all to increase their ratings and hopefully make them more money. But don’t worry about them…” He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, giving me a reassuring kiss. “Right now, your only focus should be on regaining your strength.”
“Thank you.” I leaned my head back against the headrest, exhausted from days of interrupted sleep.
“Of course.” He pressed one more kiss to my hand, then lowered it, but didn’t let go.
Instead, the soft brush of his thumb along my knuckles offered me comfort as I closed my eyes, settling in for the drive.
But after what felt like only minutes, the car came to a stop and Gideon gently nudged me awake.
“We’re here.”
I fluttered my eyes open, expecting to be at his house in San Diego. But we were in front of a building adjacent to an airstrip, the lights of the runway visible in the distance.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“A private terminal near the airport.”
“What are we doing here?”
“Going home.” He flashed me a smile, then slid out of the SUV, rushing around to open my door for me. “Are you okay to walk a few steps?” he asked as a man hurried toward us with a luggage cart and began unloading our bags at Henry’s instruction. “The plane’s ready and waiting for us.”
“A private plane?” I playfully waggled my brows, taking Gideon’s outstretched hand and allowing him to help me to my feet. “You sure know how to spoil a girl.”
“And I intend on spoiling you every day for the rest of your life. If you’ll let me.”
“How can I say no to that?”
He brushed a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back and meeting Henry’s gaze. “Thanks, brother. For everything.”
Something unspoken passed between the two men in the few silent seconds before Gideon wrapped him in a brief hug. When he released him, Henry turned his attention toward me.
“Take care of yourself. And him.”
I laughed under my breath as he gave me a gentle squeeze. “I’m pretty sure he can take care of himself.”
“Maybe. Just don’t let him lose sight of who he is,” he whispered before dropping his hold on me.
“Ready?” Gideon asked, touching a hand to my back.
“Let’s go home.”
“I like the sound of that.” He beamed a wide smile that reminded me so much of Samuel.
I should have been thrilled.
Instead, it only made me long for the mysterious stranger in black who I watched kill a man with his bare hands.