Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(90)

Rylee’s surgery had been short and successful. When Lance and Morgan had checked an hour before, she’d been in recovery and doing well.

Morgan disappeared.

Thirty minutes later, a doctor in green scrubs came in.

Tina jerked straight.

“So far, so good,” the doctor said. “The wound didn’t look as bad as I expected. We’re keeping him in the ICU. We’ll see how his body reacts to the antibiotics. We should know more in the morning. But he’s a tough kid. I’m more hopeful now than I was before the surgery. I’ll send a nurse in when you can see him.”

The pressure in Lance’s chest eased. He was almost afraid to be relieved.

Tina nodded, close to tears.

The doctor left.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Lance asked.

“Yes,” Tina answered. “There’s a sleep chair in Evan’s room.”

“OK.” Lance stood. “I’ll be back to check on him tomorrow.”

Tina met his eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Lance left the room and went looking for Morgan. He found her in the hallway, headed back to see him.

He turned her around and relayed the update on Evan’s condition.

“Let’s go home and get some sleep,” Lance said.

Now that he’d had some good news about Evan, adrenaline seemed to be draining from Lance’s body. He slung an arm over Morgan’s shoulders and pretended he didn’t want to lean on her.

“What about Tina?” Morgan wrapped her arm around his waist, as if she knew he could use the support. But then, she always knew what he needed.

“As long as Evan is here, Tina isn’t going anywhere. And they should both be safe enough in the ICU with a cop outside the door.”

Morgan put her head on his shoulder.

Tonight, Lance needed to recharge his batteries with his own family.





Chapter Thirty-Eight

Morgan woke to the gray of predawn. She’d slept poorly. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lance fighting Aaron, going under in the river, and being swept into boulders. She rolled over and watched him sleep for a few minutes. One arm was flung over his head. Gauze and tape covered a large abrasion on his forearm.

He was still sleeping off the sheer physical exertion of the previous night’s water rescue. She did not want him disturbed. His battered body needed rest.

There was no other man like him. How did she get so lucky?

Morgan slipped out of bed and into her favorite worn pair of jeans and a tank top. She stopped in the bathroom to brush her teeth and put her hair in a ponytail. Sliding her phone into her pocket, she tiptoed around the bed and turned off Lance’s ringer. A sound from the hallway caught her attention. She left the room, closing the door behind her.

Sophie stood in the hallway. Morgan greeted her with a kiss on the forehead, which was beautifully cool.

Sophie frowned at the closed door. “Is Wance still in bed?”

Nodding, Morgan pressed her finger to her lips. “He was up late. Let’s let him sleep a while longer, OK?”

Sophie considered the question for a second, then tilted her head. “Can I stay home from pweschool today?”

Was she trying to make a deal or was her question unrelated to allowing Lance to sleep? Considering how sick her youngest had been, Morgan had had no intention of sending her to school anyway. A preschool was basically a giant brick petri dish, and Sophie’s immune system would be weakened.

“Yes.” Morgan scooped her up, settled her on her hip, and carried her toward the dining room. They walked past the plastic sheeting that covered the opening to the gutted kitchen.

Sophie rested her head on Morgan’s shoulder. “I miss our kitchen.”

“Me too.” Morgan turned into the dining room.

“I like waffles.” Sophie sighed. “But I miss pancakes.”

Morgan noted Sophie’s correct pronunciation of the L in like. Was Sophie growing out of her lisp? That shouldn’t make Morgan sad, but there was a tiny part of her that didn’t want her children to grow up so quickly.

“Me too,” said Grandpa. Dressed in slacks and a blue polo shirt, he sat at the table, reading the news on his electronic tablet. He pointed toward the coffee maker. “The pot’s full.”

“Thank you.” Morgan set her daughter on the chair next to Grandpa and poured a cup of coffee. She lifted the mug awkwardly, the bandages on her hands getting in the way.

“How is Lance?” Grandpa asked.

“Exhausted. Sleeping.”

“It’s no wonder.” Grandpa pointed to his tablet. “There’s an article on the rescue. I don’t know how he did it.”

“Me either, and I watched.” She shuddered, another vision of Lance and Evan in the water flashing in her mind. Lance had succeeded with his intelligence, strength, willpower, and luck in equal measures.

“I’m sure you did more than watch.” Grandpa moved his tablet aside. He studied her for a few seconds. “Why haven’t you two set a date?”

“We’ve been busy.” Surprised by the change in topic, Morgan sipped her coffee.

Grandpa rolled his eyes. “Try feeding that lame excuse to someone who hasn’t interrogated a thousand suspects.”