Chapter 28 Grayson #2
"She's still being monitored at the hospital. She's thirty weeks pregnant."
"We can wait." He makes a note. "Your sister-in-law is being processed now. She's claiming—"
"I don't care what she's claiming." My voice comes out harder than I intended. "She assaulted my pregnant wife in front of a ballroom full of witnesses. Whatever story she's spinning, there's video evidence that proves otherwise."
The detective nods, unsurprised. "We know. Just thought you should be aware she's not accepting responsibility."
"She never has. That's not my problem anymore."
After signing what feels like a hundred forms, I'm escorted out through a back hallway to avoid the press that's apparently gathered at the front entrance.
The detective is saying something about next steps and court dates when I see her.
Two officers lead Delaney down the corridor, her hands cuffed in front of her.
Her gown is torn at the shoulder. She sees me and stops.
"Gray." Her voice cracks. "Gray, please, you have to understand... she provoked me. She's been lying about me for months, turning everyone against me, and I just... I lost control. I didn't mean to hurt her. I would never—"
"Don't." The word comes out flat and final. I don't raise my voice. I don't need to. "Don't talk to me about Abbie. Don't talk to me about what you meant or didn't mean. You're not in my life anymore, Delaney. You're not in Abbie's life. After tonight, you're nothing to us."
"She's my sister—"
"She's my wife. And you tried to hurt her.
You tried to hurt our baby." I take a step closer, and I see both officers tense, ready to intervene.
But I'm not going to touch her. "Theo's lawyers will be in contact about your son.
Whatever happens between you and him regarding custody and visitation is your business, not mine.
But you should know that he's already confirmed the baby is his.
The DNA results have been public for months.
Your last leverage over this family is gone. "
Delaney's face goes pale. "The test should never have been public—"
"He made a choice to be honest. You should try it sometime."
"Gray, please." She's crying now, real tears streaming down her cheeks, and I feel nothing. "Please, I'm your family. I'm the mother of your nephew. You can't just abandon me."
"Watch me."
I stay where I am. "One more thing." My voice is quiet and flat. "Any further threats or harassment go straight to our lawyers and the police. We’ll be seeking a no-contact order. Do you understand?"
For one second she goes white, the fight draining out of her face. Then it curdles into something uglier, and she starts shouting, my name, curses, I don't listen to which.
The officers move her along. I walk through the doors before she finishes shouting. My hands are shaking again, this time from relief. I get back to the hospital in twenty minutes. Wren is sitting outside Abbie's room, scrolling through her phone with a faint smile on her face.
"She fell asleep," she says before I can ask. "The nurse said it's good. Her body needs rest. They're going to discharge her in about an hour."
"Thank you for staying."
"Stop thanking me. It's weird." She stands, stretching her back. "I'm going to go home and ice this arm and pretend tonight never happened. Text me when you get her home safe."
"I will."
She pauses at the end of the hallway, looking back at me. "She loves you, you know. Even when you're being an overprotective idiot, she loves you."
"I know."
"Good. Don't forget it."
The hallway outside Abbie's room is a study in tension I don't have the energy for. Richard and Constance stand near the nurses’ station. Her chin is lifted. His shoulders sag.
"Not your decision to make," Constance is saying as I approach. "She's my daughter."
"She's my daughter too. And she's lying in a hospital bed because your other daughter—"
"Don't you dare blame Delaney for this. Delaney is struggling. Delaney needs our support."
"Delaney needs professional help, Constance. The kind of help we should have insisted on years ago instead of covering for her every time she—"
"Every time she what? Made a mistake? Had a difficult moment? We can't just abandon her."
"Grayson," he says, and Constance's head snaps toward me.
"I'm going to see my wife," I say, keeping my voice even. "Is there something I need to know before I go in?"
Constance opens her mouth, but Richard cuts her off.
"No. Go. She's been asking for you." He holds my gaze for a moment, then turns back to his wife. "Constance. It's time."
"Time for what?"
"Time for you to go home." His voice is quiet but final in a way I've never heard from him before. "Tonight. The hospital has rules about visiting hours, and you're not helping."
"I'm her mother."
"Yes. And right now, the best thing you can do for her is leave." He looks at the security officer stationed near the elevator, then back at Constance. "I'll call you tomorrow. We can talk then."
"Richard—"
"I've already contacted Andrew." His lawyer. "I'm filing. We can discuss terms later, but I won't discuss them here, and I won't discuss them tonight."
Constance goes very still. "You can't be serious."
"I'm very serious. I should have been serious years ago.
" He takes a breath. "The discretionary accounts.
The supplementary funds. I've instructed him to stop the discretionary payments.
Your access to the family trusts remains, I can't touch those, and I wouldn't try, but everything else goes through Andrew now. "
"You're punishing me? For supporting our daughter?"
"I'm protecting our other daughter. The one you've spent thirty years treating like a consolation prize.
" Richard's voice cracks slightly, and I see something in his face I've never witnessed before: genuine, devastating regret.
"I should have protected her sooner. I should have stood up to you when it mattered.
I didn't, and that's my failure, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. "
The security officer steps forward, professional and calm. "Ma'am? I can escort you to the main exit whenever you're ready."
Constance looks at Richard. At me. At the closed door to Abbie's room. For a moment, I think she's going to fight, make a scene, demand to see her daughter, refuse to leave. But something in Richard's expression must convince her otherwise.
"This isn't over," she says, and walks toward the elevator without looking back.