Chapter 46
“How do you feel?” Travis asked. “Are you cold? Sore?”
“I’m fine, Travis. Really.” He was fussing too much. “I don’t think I need to come to work with you anymore.”
Three weeks had passed since they’d returned home from Africa.
She’d had to spend several days in the hospital there before she was cleared for flying.
She had three cracked ribs and a lot of bruising.
She was still in quite a bit of pain. But the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as the nightmares she was suffering from.
Every night she woke up screaming after reliving the kidnapping, the meeting with Aadan, with the General.
And worst of all, the thought that she and Tyler were going to die.
That was likely part of the reason for Travis’s overprotectiveness. This was only his second day back at the office. Yesterday, they’d only stayed a few hours before he’d suddenly turned off his computer, picked her up and carried her to his vehicle.
He'd claimed she’d looked tired. Maybe she had, but she also thought that he was struggling to concentrate while worrying over her. Poor Travis, he seemed to blame himself for what had happened to her and Tyler.
But the only person at fault was Aadan.
Oh, and Isabel, who was currently being held without bail awaiting her trial for helping the kidnappers. She was facing some serious jail time. She’d asked several times to see Caren, but Travis wasn’t having a bar of it.
Isabel was claiming that she’d been forced to help the kidnappers. However, she’d also been found with a huge envelope of money on her. So no one was buying that.
Oliver had visited her a few days ago to apologize for Isabel’s role in her kidnapping. Not that she expected an apology from him. Poor guy had looked terrible. And it wasn’t his fault. He’d tried to visit Isabel in jail, but she’d refused any contact with him.
They hadn’t heard anything from the FBI or Interpol yet about Aadan and whether he had been killed in the fire.
But she just knew he had.
Which brought on a whole raft of emotions. Relief and sadness were the strongest, which was confusing as hell.
After fussing over her a bit more, Travis sat at his desk, getting back to work. Meanwhile, Caren picked up her E-reader. She couldn’t concentrate on much lately, so she was sticking to more light-hearted stories.
About an hour later, her phone ringing startled her, and she dropped her E-reader.
Travis glanced up with a frown as she looked down to see who was calling.
Shit. She wasn’t ready for this. She was too . . . vulnerable. Too unguarded. Her breathing grew more rapid, which didn’t help the pain in her ribs.
Suddenly, her phone was pulled from her hand.
“Who is calling you?” he asked, staring down at her phone with a frown.
“The home where my mother is being looked after,” she told him.
Travis nodded and to her surprise, he answered the call. “Hello, this is Travis Andrews. No, she’s busy. You can tell me, I’m her fiancé.”
Oh, she liked it when he called himself that. It sent butterflies through her stomach.
As soon as they’d returned to New York, he’d bought her an engagement ring. It was huge. A large deep blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds.
It certainly made a statement.
They hadn’t gone to Vegas to get married yet, because she’d had a little bit of panic every time he’d mentioned getting on a plane.
She wanted to marry him . . . she just needed a bit longer to settle herself.
“Fine. Yes. There’s nothing you can’t say to me . . . yes, all right. I’ll tell her.”
He ended the call, scowling at the phone.
“What is it?” she asked, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.
“That was the director of the home,” he replied. “Mr. Peterson. Don’t know what he wanted, he wouldn’t tell me anything since I’m not on the approved list of family. He wants to talk to you.”
“Bloody hell,” she grumbled, dread taking hold of her.
“Don’t do it,” he said. “I don’t want you to call him back.”
“I have to call him back,” she replied, even if she wished otherwise. “I should find out why he’s calling.”
“Why? Did she ever care about you? Look after you?”
No. Her mother hadn’t once cared about Caren. Though she knew that those were rhetorical questions since he already knew the answers.
“I should still see what he wants. What if she’s ill or something?” she said.
Travis didn’t answer, but she could tell he didn’t care what state her mother was in.
She wished that she didn’t care either. That she could just break completely free.
That’s what she’d tried to do when she’d visited her mother.
But the way they’d left things . . . it had just added to her pain and confusion.
Why had her mother never loved her?
What had she done to deserve the way her parents had treated her?
“I don’t think I can just forget the fact that he’s called. Sorry.”
“Don’t need to apologize to me,” he said gruffly. “I just want to protect you. Call him but put it on speaker. If he upsets you, then I’m ending the call.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded, thinking it was a good idea for him to listen in. Fortifying herself, she called the director back.
“Ms. Stanford, I’m glad you called back so promptly.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Peterson. What can I do for you?”
“Your mother is asking continuously to see you. Her main carer didn’t want to call you and let you know, but I felt it was only fair to your mother to inform you that she very much wishes to see you. And is quite distressed that you aren’t here.”
There was clear disapproval in his voice.
She glanced up at Travis who was scowling down at the phone.
Uh-oh. Before she could think how to stop him, he spoke up.
“Well, unfortunately, Martha never gave Caren what she needed as a child,” Travis said back. “Love, affection, basic hygiene. All she gave her was pain.” She rubbed at her knuckles, shuddering. Travis sat next to her, cuddling her close.
“So I’m not sure why you’d think that she’d care if she was asking for her. Or drop everything to visit her. And, this will be your only warning, you have no right to speak to her in that tone. I never want to hear you talking to her again but with the utmost respect.”
“Who is that?” Mr. Peterson demanded.
“This is Travis, my fiancé,” she said.
“I do believe this is a private conversation,” Mr. Peterson said.
“No, it isn’t,” Travis said. “From now on, if you need to call Caren about her mother, you will call me instead. I will make the decision whether you need to talk to Caren.”
“You are not on the approved list,” Mr. Peterson huffed pompously.
“I will be. Very soon. Call me or I will not be happy.” Travis ended the call and held her closer. “I’m sorry that happened, baby. Are you all right?”
“I’m okay.” She actually was. A bit numb and her knuckles hurt. A phantom pain that she knew wasn’t real. But it felt like it.
He took hold of her hands, rubbing her knuckles.
“Can’t believe that bitch used to hit you with a ruler.”
“She really wanted me to be a piano prodigy since, you know, I was so stupid in other ways.”
“You are not stupid,” he told her fiercely.
“No, but that’s what she thought.” She shifted around, feeling uncomfortable. “I wonder if she even knows what I do now. Or if she’d care. I just feel . . . I feel like I went to visit her to get answers, to find closure, but I never did.”
“You want to go see her?” He gave her an incredulous look.
“That’s stupid, isn’t it?”
He sighed. “My first reaction is to say that yes, it’s stupid. And no, you can’t go. But I want you to have closure.”
Oh, thank God.
“But listen to me. There are going to be rules.”
“All right,” she said slowly.
“We wait another week until you’re in less pain.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to be by your side the entire time. You will not be alone with her.”
Relief filled her. “All right.”
“If at any time she gets abusive, I’m going to remove you from her presence and you will never return, understood?”
“Understood.”
She leaned against him. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Actually, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you, my precious, wonderful girl.”
Caren clung to Travis’s hand as he led her through the home where her mother was now living. She recognized the guard at the front as the same who had helped her when she was last here. But her tongue was frozen so all she could do was nod at him.
A week had passed since Mr. Peterson called.
Travis had tried to talk her out of coming, but she just needed to see her mother one last time.
Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, but she felt like she had no choice.
However, Travis had insisted that she wait until she felt better.
It had been close to six weeks since she’d been taken by Aadan’s men.
She wasn’t sure when the nightmares would stop, when she’d cease having panic attacks.
Unfortunately, her decision to come here seemed to have set her back. She’d woken up twice last night with nightmares.
This time they didn’t have to wait around to meet with Mr. Peterson, which was a pleasure she was happy to be denied. Instead, Brenna came out and greeted them.
“Caren! How are you? I was surprised to hear you were visiting today.” There was concern on the older woman’s face as she reached them. That concern turned to curiosity and a touch of hunger when she caught sight of Travis. “Well, um, hello.”
“Hi, Brenna,” she said warmly, amused by the way Brenna just stared at Travis. “This is my fiancé, Travis. Travis, this is Brenna who is my mother’s main carer.”
“Nice to meet you, Brenna. Thanks for everything you do.” Travis held out his hand and Brenna took it with a surprisingly high-pitched giggle.
“How is Mother?” Caren asked.
Brenna sobered with a sigh. “The truth is that I wish you hadn’t come. She has good days and bad. But even during her good days, she is . . .” she trailed off.
“You can give it to me straight,” Caren told her.