Finding Refuge (19 page)

What was it that he’d promised himself? When it happened
again, he’d send his father. Yes, that was the answer. “Do you have Dad’s cell
number?”

Danny swore. “Trav, oh, man, please, I don’t want to talk to
Dad right now. Come on, it’s not like I’m asking all that much. Fifty bucks
will get me fed and home tomorrow, and I won’t even gamble it. I’ll do anything
you want.”

“No. Call Dad.”

Silence stretched over the phone for a moment before Danny
cleared his throat. “I can’t. I don’t want him to hate me.”

That stung, fierce and hot, like a stab from a monster wasp.
He heard all too clearly what Danny meant—
I don’t want him
to hate me like you do, Travis.
“Look, Dan, it’ll be okay. Just call
dad. It’ll be fine. Call him before it gets any later. I’ll talk to you over
the weekend.”

He disconnected the call, setting his phone on the arm of the
sofa. He leaned into Andri after she placed her game controller on the table.
“Tell me I did the right thing.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “
Kardia
mou.
My heart. Everything will be okay.” He chose to let himself believe
her. And for that night, making love to her and then sleeping curled around
her, cocooned together in her bed with Fluffball sprawled along the bottom of
the mattress near Andri’s feet, for that capsule of time, everything was just
fine.

Andri had an early meeting, so she left him in bed with
Fluffball draped over his legs. He listened to the soft sounds of the world
waking up after she closed the door. The cat’s gentle purr combined with the
birds in the trees outside the window in a natural lullaby, and he thought
perhaps he could drift back to sleep for an hour. He turned, pulling Andri’s
pillow to his chest, tucking it under his chin. It carried traces of her scent,
vanilla and woman, and it comforted him.

Strange how much a part of him she’d become, like a missing
piece of his puzzle had finally been fitted into place. His own shortcomings
were blessedly silent and the sense of peace rejuvenated him. Not enough to go
back to sleep, though, so he gave up and hit the shower. He stood at the foot
of Andri’s bed, toweling off, when his phone rang.

“Travis?” A shimmering thread of terror wove through his
mother’s voice, hitting his gut like a shot. “I don’t know what to do. I came
down to his office, he’s on the floor—”

Dad.
His blood turned to ice. “Did
you call the paramedics?”

“No, no, Travis, please, I can’t do this, oh, God, I can’t
lose him, too!”

Memories rose of Jacob, of that terrible moment when his
parents forced open the bathroom door. He gritted his teeth, pushing the
phantoms back. He had to focus. “Mother, I’ll call them, I’ll meet you at the
hospital.” He hung up, realizing she wasn’t listening. She’d dissolved into
hysteria.

Fear gutted him, leaving his fingers trembling. Travis
yanked a black t-shirt over his head, then grabbed his wireless headset from
the kitchen counter and hooked it over his ear. He dialed for emergency
assistance, giving his parents’ address to the dispatcher as he pulled on his
jeans, socks, and boots, then clipped the phone to his belt. He stayed on with
the dispatcher as he drove, until the paramedics reached his parents’ home and
relayed that his father was alive, and his frantic mother would travel with
them to the medical center.

After the dispatcher hung up, Travis tightened his fists
around the steering wheel, searching inside for a way to stave off the panic
churning through his system. He refocused himself on anger, a tool he could use
to stay sharp. He cursed his father for putting off seeing his physician. He
cursed himself. Damn, why hadn’t he just taken Dad to his appointment? And what
if those moments lost when his mother called him rather than emergency
assistance were too precious, the moments dividing a chance at life from
certain death?

He refocused again, ordering the logical part of his brain
to override the growing fear chilling him from the inside out. There would be
paperwork to fill out. Clearly his mother would be in no condition to handle
any of those details. And where did Dan fit in all this? Where was he?

An image of Andri slipped forward into his line of thought,
a picture of her wrapping her arms around him. The need for her caught like a
spark on tinder, flaring, licking along the edge of the growing fear for his
father. He’d give anything to crawl into bed with her and block everything else
out. But there was too much resting on his shoulders to escape now.

He clenched his jaw, thrusting everything back to the depths
inside him. He had to get through whatever lay ahead with his father. He had to
take care of his mother, whether she wanted him to or not. He had to track down
his brother and get him back on the road to recovery. He’d handle the business
via cell phone.

Everything would be fine.

It had to be.

Travis refused to consider any other possibility.

Chapter Twelve

The accountant with the printing problem breathed a huge
sigh of relief through the phone at Andri. She silently thanked her lucky stars
at the sound of the printer pulling in paper. She closed out the error report
on her screen as she said goodbye to the woman on the line. Crisis averted.

She picked up her cell, which had vibrated against her hip
three times while she handled the epic printing disaster. Rachel. Must be
important. Rachel picked up on the first ring.

“Andri. Have you talked to Travis?” She could hear the van
rumbling in the background. Rachel was on the road.

“Not since I left for work, why?” A foreboding shiver ran
down her spine.

Rachel cursed at another driver. “Peggy, the office manager,
called me. His dad’s in the hospital.”

Oh, no. “What happened?”

“Heart attack.”

The bottom dropped out of her day.
Oh,
Travis,
kardia mou
.
“Which hospital?”

“That big one in Murray. I’m on my way to Danny’s place to
let him know. Brat’s not answering his phone.”

“I’ll get up there as soon as I can.” Andri disconnected, grabbed
her purse, and hurried to her assistant’s desk.

Shalyndra looked up as she reached the desk. “What’s up,
boss?”

“I’ve got to take off.” She glanced at the clock on the
desk. “Call it an early lunch, and I will probably be gone a couple of hours. Think
you and Chen can shoulder the load?”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. My boyfriend’s dad is in the hospital. I’ll
check in with you in an hour.”

Andri tapped the button for the elevator, silently cheering
when the doors slid open immediately. She stepped in, then groaned as the
elevator ignored her basement level request and moved up a floor to the
executive level, the need of someone above her apparently more important to the
elevator than getting her to the parking garage. She clamped down on her
frustration as the door slid open and GlobalTech’s tall, blond CEO, Jamie
Mickleson, joined her in the elevator. He smiled down at her as the elevator
finally moved in the right direction.

“Hello, Andri. I haven’t had a chance to stop in and check
on you, but I’m hearing good things.”

She flashed a quick smile. “Thank you.”

“So, what do you think of GlobalTech? How are you getting
along here?”

Distracted, silently cursing each dragging minute that kept
her from getting to Travis, she realized he’d asked a question a beat too late.
She blurted out, “I love it, thanks for the opportunity.”

His brow knitted, concern shadowing his features. “You sure?
Is there a problem?”

Andri clenched her shaking hands, knowing her anxiety must
be written on her face. As the boss, Mr. Mickleson would naturally interpret it
as work issues. Ugh, damage control. “No, really, work is fantastic. I’m just,
um…personal issues. Don’t mind me.”

“Do you need to take the day off?”

She’d only been there a month, taking time off would look
even flakier than stealing a long lunch. “It’s okay. I might be extra long at
lunch today, though. My boyfriend’s dad had a heart attack this morning—”

Mickleson held up a large hand. “The hours you’re putting in
haven’t escaped my notice. If you need time, take it. Anything your team can’t
handle will wait. Get out of here.”

She already loved working there, but that won her undying
loyalty. “You’re the best. I’ll be in tomorrow.”

The doors opened on the second floor, her boss’s
destination, and as he stepped out, he said, “Tomorrow is Saturday. I don’t
want to hear that you came in over the weekend.”

She nodded as the doors slid closed.

Worry filled every cell of her body, pulsing with her
heartbeat as she reached her car. She found herself praying, a mantra pleading
for a good outcome repeating through her mind as she drove. She exited the
interstate and worked her way into the chain of parking lots surrounding the
massive medical center, her heart aching for the fear and stress Travis must be
under. It suddenly felt far longer than a few hours since she’d last seen him.
Never in her life had Andri stood by and let someone she cared for suffer
alone. No power on earth could make her start now.

She snagged a parking spot as an older couple pulled out. She
ran all the way to the information desk, where she was directed to the waiting
room nearest the intensive care unit.

The antiseptic scent in the climate-controlled air flooded
her with memories of visiting her father in the hospital, during that last few
weeks before the doctors recommended hospice care at home.
We’ll
make the last of his time as painless as we can,
the oncologist had
said.
Let him go with dignity, surrounded by your love.

Her breath caught when she spotted Travis. He sat on a chair
in the waiting room, elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. She walked
over to him, stood before him.

“Travis.” When he didn’t respond, she knelt before him and
reached between his arms, laying a hand on either side of his face. He jumped
when she touched him and jerked his head up. Her heart slammed to a halt at the
deep agony in his eyes, and she wondered for a split second how he could still
function with all that bottled up inside him.
How much more
can you stuff behind that wall, Travis?

Thought fled, the need to hold him overwhelming her. She
slid between his legs and folded her arms across his hard, muscled back. He
crushed the air from her lungs when he pulled her to him with one arm, his
other hand clutching her hair, his face buried against her neck.

She held him until her knees complained about the hard floor
beneath them. She gently disengaged herself from his hold and stood up, her
joints, and her heart, protesting every inch of the way. She whispered, “How’s
he doing, Travis?”

“He’s in surgery. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” The cold
detachment in his voice shook her. Travis put his hands on her hips and shifted
her away from him, then stood up. “How did you find out about this?”

“Rachel called me after she got the news from the office.”

He nodded and pulled his cell phone from his belt and
scrolled through contact numbers. “I should call the rest of the relatives.
Uncle Mac and Aunt Sarah are over in the emergency room with Mother. She had a
full-blown panic attack after Dad went into surgery.”

Travis looked around, apparently registering the presence of
other people in the waiting room. He looked down at Andri with a long, hard
look she couldn’t decipher, then twined his fingers through hers and led her
back to the elevator. Outside the hospital, Andri sat on a bench and alternated
between watching the clouds roll across the sky above the Salt Lake valley,
gathering for a storm, and watching Travis pace.

He called several relatives, his calm, collected business
voice taking him through the repetition of basic details on each call. His dad
had gone to pick up Danny in Wendover. Only to Andri did Travis mention his
dad’s decision to retrieve his son rather than send him the money he’d wanted.
He’d taken Danny home, returned to his own home, and had a bad few hours trying
to sleep. Sophia had found him in the morning, on his office floor.

After a while, Travis stood staring at the phone in his
hand. A hint of panic flickered across his face before he crammed it back
again. “That takes care of family,” he said softly. He dialed again, this time
carrying on a conversation with one of his construction supervisors about the
status on certain projects. By the time he made his third business call,
Andri’s frustration hummed under her skin. How could the man work at a time
like this?

As he scanned through his contact list yet again, Andri
stood and grabbed his hand. “What are you doing, Travis? I’m sure everyone will
understand if work comes to a screeching halt for a while.”

His walled gaze met hers. “It’s business, Andri. I’m the
head of the company while Dad’s out of commission, and I have responsibilities
of my own, in addition to taking on his. I can’t just walk away because I feel
damned miserable at the moment.”

Andri shook her head, frustration building. “Travis, you
have to stop. Seriously.”

“I don’t need—”

She stopped him with a finger on his lips, not attempting to
bank the anger in her voice. “Don’t even say it. Don’t tell me you don’t need
my help. I know, you’re a freaking machine. You can handle everything all alone
and remain stoic through it all. But, Travis, I love you. You’re holding the
weight of the world, you’re stressed and afraid, and watching you refuse to
acknowledge it is killing me. I’m going to help whether you like it or not.”

She didn’t mean to say she loved him, but it had come out in
such a rush, perhaps he didn’t notice. He stared at her, the storm brewing in
his eyes a reflection of the storm gathering over their heads. “Andri, I—” He
broke off, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. “I appreciate you for
coming, I really do. But I have to work right now.”