Chapter 20 #2
The medic checked Laney’s pulse and eyes.
“Could be heat exhaustion,” the young man said, already pulling out a small kit of some sort.
“But if you’re worried she ingested something, it’s best to get her checked out at urgent care where they can run blood and urine tests.
And if this is heat exhaustion, you don’t want it progressing to a heat stroke. ”
Laney tried to push herself up. “I’m fine. I need to finish the walk,” she muttered stubbornly.
Ford and I both pressed her back down, one of our hands on each of her shoulders. “Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “The guys from the firm can finish for you, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“We’ve got this,” Tate said, cutting her off. The others around him nodded, already assuring her that the donations would be fine.
Laney didn’t look happy about it, but she didn’t argue anymore either which told me just how poorly she was feeling. Ford helped her into his car and we drove straight to urgent care.
By the time we got there, I was shaking. My nerves were shot, my thoughts spiraling in every direction as they immediately whisked Laney away after Ford told the triage nurse his concerns. I couldn’t sit still, so I paced back and forth in the waiting room.
This was all my fault. Someone was after me, and it had been so easy for them to slip through a crowd, to blend in, to hurt someone close to me instead. I hadn’t even considered that possibility, that someone else might get harmed as a result of me being targeted.
Ford called Laney’s husband, Brian, to let him know what had happened, and the other man was on his way.
After Ford hung up the phone, he didn’t say much while we waited.
He sat with his elbows braced on his knees, eyes dark and unreadable, the quiet hum of anger and fear radiating off him in waves.
He wasn’t mad at me, I knew that, but I couldn’t stop thinking that he should have been.
I was the reason why we were here and why Laney had possibly been poisoned.
A worried Brian arrived, and they allowed him back to see Laney while they conducted their tests.
It seemed like hours passed before Laney reappeared, with Brian pushing her in a wheelchair.
The fact that they were releasing her was a good indication that she was going to be okay or else they would have hospitalized her.
Ford stood the second he saw her, and I froze mid-pace.
She still looked pale, but steady. There was even a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. Brian looked much calmer, too, and weirdly enough, he was grinning.
“What did they find out?” Ford demanded to know.
Laney sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. “Well, it wasn’t heat exhaustion. They ran a few tests to rule out toxins, which were negative. So then they did another blood panel, and then an ultrasound.”
Ford frowned. “Why an ultrasound?”
“Because the blood test came back positive for pregnancy, and they wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
For a second, I forgot how to breathe. Then relief hit so hard my knees almost gave out on me. “Oh my god,” I exhaled. “So it was just…”
“Morning sickness,” Laney said with a sheepish shrug. “I told you I didn’t like Gatorade.”
Ford exhaled a long breath, the tension easing from his shoulders as a genuine smile spread across his face. “Jesus. You scared the hell out of us. But congratulations.” He shook his brother-in-law’s hand, and Brian appeared delighted with the news.
“Yeah, surprise,” Laney said with a laugh. “We definitely weren’t planning it, but…we’re happy.”
“Well, you know I’m thrilled to be an uncle again,” Ford said, smiling. “Tate texted me. They finished the walk in your name, and everything went off without a hitch.”
“At least there’s that,” she said with relief.
We parted ways with Laney and Brian, and Ford and I headed back to his place.
A good five minutes of silence passed between us before I finally spoke. “I thought…”
“I did, too,” he said, before I could finish.
I swallowed hard, my fingers twisting together in my lap. “I’m so sorry, Ford. If anything happened to her because of me—”
“But nothing did,” he said, shaking his head as he glanced at me for a quick second before returning his eyes to the road. “It was morning sickness and bad timing. Nobody was after you.”
My guilt didn’t ease. “But if something had happened…” My voice trembled despite my best effort to keep it together. “Your family shouldn’t be at risk because of me. Because of my situation.”
Ford reached across the console and took my hand, his palm warm, his thumb drawing slow, grounding circles against my skin.
“Look,” he said quietly, his tone measured but gentle.
“In my line of work, we deal with collateral damage all the time. Sometimes a bystander gets caught up in something they had nothing to do with. It’s horrible.
The target always blames themselves. The bodyguard does too.
But the only person at fault is the one who caused the harm. Always.”
He paused, his thumb still skimming over my knuckles. “If Laney had been hurt—and she wasn’t—it wouldn’t have been your fault. Or mine. It would have been theirs.”
“I know you’re being logical,” I said softly. “But logic doesn’t exactly help when I’m responsible for putting your family in danger.”
He gave my hand a light squeeze before letting go. “I get that. But I’ve seen what guilt like that does to people, and I’m not going to let you carry something like that when no one was harmed today.”
“But she could have been,” I argued.
He exhaled a breath. “In my experience, I can pretty much assure you that whoever is harassing you isn’t trying to kill you.
If they were, we’d be looking at something very different, like a real, physical attack.
What’s happened so far with your car being sideswiped, your place being trashed, it’s intimidation tactics. And a warning.”
“A warning?” I frowned, my pulse kicking up. “About what?”
“That’s what I want to find out,” he said grimly, his eyes going between the road and his rearview mirror.
“What’s happening with you is very deliberate.
If someone had tampered with Laney’s drink, I would’ve guessed it was meant to make you sick, maybe disoriented.
Not kill you. Just scare you. So we’re back to square one, still trying to figure out what this person wants from you. ”
Frustration coursed through me. “That doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Ford made a left hand turn, then glanced at me. “The important thing is that Laney is okay. Nothing went wrong today. It was just bad timing with the Gatorade and her morning sickness.”
Shaking those what ifs spinning in my head wasn’t easy. “But if she had been—” The words stuck in my throat.
“No,” he cut in firmly. “Violet, this is my area of expertise. When it comes to protecting you, you need to trust me on this.”
Trust. That word landed like a stone in my chest. Every man I’d ever known had made trust feel like a setup for disappointment.
My father, my mother’s boyfriends, the guys Christopher hung around, and even Andrea’s ex who’d broken her down and made her doubt herself and her desires.
Every single one had proved that trusting a man was dangerous. Foolish. Weak.
But Ford wasn’t like them.
“I do trust you when it comes to protecting me,” I admitted quietly.
His gaze softened, lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary. “Then trust me when I say that if anything had happened, we would have caught it in time, just like we did today with Laney by getting her to urgent care immediately.”
I nodded, but my throat was too tight for words.
Ford parked in the underground garage, and we rode the elevator up to his floor in silence. The weight of everything that hadn’t happened—everything that could have happened—pressed down on me until I could barely breathe.
We showered. Ate an early dinner. Neither of us spoke much. Ford kept glancing at me like he wanted to say something, but whatever it was, he held it back. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it anyway.
I hated to admit it but I was scared of whoever was out there threatening me. But mostly, I was scared of Ford and how much he made me feel.
I needed space to sort through the mess in my head—the fear, the guilt, the longing. Especially the longing. Because wanting Ford felt almost as dangerous as whoever was out there.
“I think I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight,” I told him, after we cleaned up from dinner.
Ford’s expression flickered, disappointment warring briefly in his eyes before he pushed it down and adopted a neutral expression. “Sure,” he said quietly. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
I almost snapped at him then. Told him to stop being so damn nice and understanding.
To yell or argue, to give me something solid to push back against so I had a valid reason to justify the distance I kept creating between us.
But that wasn’t fair. I knew this was all on me and my inability to stop building walls every time something started to feel real between us.
So I said nothing. I retreated to the guest bedroom and got ready for bed.
Sleep didn’t come easy. I turned over, pressing my face into the pillow, already missing the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing beside me.
And for the first time, I wondered if my walls weren’t protecting me at all.
If they were just keeping me from the one person who’d never asked me to tear them down, but only to trust him enough to let him in.
The thought stayed with me long after exhaustion finally won.