Mend Page 2

  “Remember how you told me that everything works out in the end? That all anyone needs is faith? Well, I’m banking on that right now.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve never seen you so passionate about any other woman. Even Colette. She must be a good person if she has made such an impact on you.”

  “She is not any other woman.” I smiled, something I hadn’t done often the last forty-eight hours. “Good is an understatement.”

  My thoughts automatically went back to the last time I saw her laugh. She had looked fucking beautiful and carefree. Then the memory of Adrien cuddled in her lap as she read him a story replaced it, and the look of utter contentment slammed into me, hard, stealing my breath away. I quickly glanced at the bed, blinking back the tears.

  Come back to me, Selene. I can’t lose you. I wouldn’t know where to begin or what to do if I did. Fight and come back to me.

  I cleared my throat as emotion threatened to choke me. The image of Adrien’s small face flashed in my head. The pain and heartbreak he’d suffered every time he asked about Selene haunted me relentlessly. This wasn’t the time to lose my mind. I had to pull myself together. Right now, he needed me more than ever and Selene did as well.

  I straightened in my chair and faced my mother once again, determined, at least, to change the situation so that Adrien’s life didn’t solely rotate around hospital visits and the local playground. I also wanted to make sure the best doctors the St. Germain name could afford handled Selene’s case.

  My mother’s face softened. “You are allowed to hurt, too, you know.”

  I laughed softly, remembering Selene’s exact words and the way she went about showing me with her body. When my mother frowned at me, I squirmed on the seat, my body already reacting at the memory of Selene on my lap, coughed twice and said, “Selene said the same thing, too.” Her eyes widened briefly as she flicked a gaze at the bed, then back at me. “I’m trying, Mother. Small steps.”

  She nodded, her shoulders loosening a little. “She is right.”

  I pushed back the hair off my forehead, realizing how long it had grown. Selene had an obsession about threading her fingers in it. I grew it longer because it made her happy. Quickly shaking my head, I focused again on my mother. “I have to speak to the doctor about transferring her to a hospital in Paris. Adrien needs to go back to his usual routine. At least something to keep his mind off what is going on at the moment.”

  She frowned. “Do you think it’s wise to move her in her current state?”

  “I will know more as soon as I talk to the doctor, but if there is a chance to do it, I will. Besides, I will feel safer with Gilles’ security personnel close by.”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, alerting me to an incoming call. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  Speak of the devil . . .

  “I have to take this call first.”

  She nodded, but her focus was on Selene, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her sweater as I left the room and went into the hallway.

  “St. Germain.”

  “Remington,” Gilles greeted me in his usual calm voice. “How is she faring?”

  I rubbed a hand down my face. “Same as yesterday.” I sighed. “What’s the progress with the case?”

  “We have been monitoring your stalker’s movements. She’s always out on Wednesdays so my team and I will be checking the apartment in forty-five minutes from now.”

  I straightened. “I told you I wanted to be there when you made your move,” I said.

  He sighed. “We spoke about this, Remington. You are not qualified for this operation.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  Silence fell between us following my outburst. I took deep breaths to calm down.

  “Listen to me. You take care of Selene and let us handle this. You’re not in a position to do this. Not in your current state of mind. You are distracted by what’s happening. I will update you as soon as I get back in the office.”

  Shit.

  He was right. I was distracted and needed to be there for Selene. But I also wanted to see the person who threatened my family, putting them in jeopardy.

  After wrapping up the conversation, I ended the call and shoved my mobile inside my pocket, and then tracked down Dr. Blanchett in his office.

  “Monsieur St. Germain.” He rose from his chair and walked around his desk, his hand outstretched in greeting. I shook his hand before settling down in the offered chair. Dr. Blanchett’s no-nonsense approach to my interruption was something that gave me courage. As he returned to his desk, I could see from the many open files that he was busy. His relaxed posture was not one of frustration, and I believed him to be genuinely interested in how he could help Selene when he asked, “What can I do for you?”

  I leaned back in the chair, fixing my gaze on his. “I would like to discuss the possibility of transferring my wife to Paris.”

  “Are you certain about this?”

  I nodded once.

  He cleared his throat, then leaned back in his chair. He studied me for a few minutes. “May I ask the reason for this decision?”

  “I’ll be honest with you, Dr. Blanchett. As we spoke before, Madame Michaels’ accident wasn’t exactly an accident. Someone has been threatening me—us. I was naïve to think that being in Provence and having a few security guards would provide some kind of safety. As you can see, my thoughts were proven wrong. The only way I feel I can keep her and my son safe while this matter is being sorted out is by travelling to Paris. One of the best security firms I know is working on this case. Besides, I would like my son to get back to his normal routine, and that can only happen if we return to Paris. So tell me, Doctor,” I leaned forward, elbows braced on my thighs, and my fingers steepled, “how can I get my wife into an excellent hospital in Paris?”

  He continued staring at me, then chuckled. “You’re still sticking to that story? That Madame Michaels is your wife?”

  I cocked a brow, but my mouth tugged at the corners, fighting a smile. “Yes, I am.”

  He shook his head, smiling. “It is possible, but this is not my decision. First, we have to make sure she is in a position to be transferred. But before that, this case has to be discussed by the hospital board and several neurologists will be involved.” The amusement on his face vanished. “Unfortunately, I would still need one member of her family involved in this.”

  “Not a problem. Her sister will be arriving in a few days.”

  The stern look on his face eased slightly and he settled back in his seat. “Let’s see what we can do about this.”

  “But it is possible, oui? You’ve done this before?”

  He nodded and began to fill me in on what exactly might be needed to make the transfer possible. When he was done, he folded his arms across his chest, giving me time to take in the information.

  I brushed a hand down my face. Mon Dieu! I missed her. I missed her cheeky smile and sassy attitude, her shyness. Everything about her. Bloody hell, I wanted a guarantee she’d wake up soon. Feeling impatient, I shot up from my chair and started to pace.

  “How is your son taking everything?” he asked.

  “Better,” I replied. The doctor had referred us to one of the hospital’s psychologists after Adrien visited Selene the first day, a woman in her late fifties with a grandmotherly disposition, which proved to be good for my son. He had been hesitant at first, but with a little urging, he’d begun to respond to her. Èric, my mother and I made a point to distract him as much as possible and not spend most of the time in the hospital unless necessary. But the fact he could see Selene every once in a while was good for him. “He seemed quite taken with Dr. Martinez.”

  He nodded and smiled. “She seems to have that effect on both patients and visitors.”

  After leaving the doctor’s office somewhat satisfied, I prepared myself for another confrontation: with my mother. I had a feeling my talk with her had in no way eased her mind. I couldn’t fault her for
assuming I was with Selene because of her resemblance to Colette. I’d been desperate and stupid when she had died.

  This was different.

  Selene was different and the complete opposite of the woman who had dragged me through hell.

  Three days later . . .

  THE PHONE on the nightstand startled me, disrupting my concentration. I tossed the pencil and notebook on the table and checked my watch for the time. Three p.m. I had been so caught up drawing Selene; I completely forgot about the time. She had looked so peaceful and beautiful while she slept I couldn’t pass up the opportunity, so I grabbed my drawing pad and pen from my bag and started working on the picture while talking to her.

  I snatched the mobile from the table and scanned the screen while I left the room to answer the call.

  Gilles.

  “I’ve been waiting for your call,” I barked into the phone. My patience was wearing thin and I wasn’t in the mood for any kind of civility. “What’s happening? You were supposed to call me three days ago after you visited her apartment.”

  “Unfortunately, the mission didn’t go as we expected, but we managed to sneak in on Thursday,” he replied calmly. “How fast can you get here? We need you to go through some things for us. It might give a clue of who this person is.”

  “Can you scan whatever you have and send it to my mobile?”

  “Hold on a minute.” I heard the sound of a computer mouse click and a whirring sound, the scanner maybe. “Sent.”

  “I’ll get back to you in a few minutes.” I disconnected the call and quickly accessed his email with the photos. There were a few crime novels, a pair of scissors, gloves and a diary with a picture. I squinted at the image and shuddered. It was of Adrien and me in the kitchen, wearing pajamas. Selene was standing in the living room, facing us. I couldn’t see her face, but I’d know those curves anywhere. An X was drawn with what I could guess was a red pen across her body. This photo must have been taken on the night she slept in my townhouse.

  I shot up from the chair and started to pace.

  Bloody hell! Who was this person? How did they get so close to the house without anyone taking notice?

  I glanced at the picture again. There was nothing that gave away who this woman was. I dialed Gilles’ number. “Nothing about the photos you sent gives a clue who we are dealing with. What else do you have for me?”

  He exhaled loudly, seemingly frustrated. “We have to do another sweep in the apartment, which means we need you. You might see something we missed. How fast can you fly to Paris?”

  “I can be there by nine in the morning.”

  “Fantastic. Don’t worry. We will catch this bitch.”

  “Good. Because I’m beyond pissed. I’m fucking furious.” I dragged my fingers through my hair. “What about the other issue? Did you find any more information about Selene?” I asked casually, hoping to hide the fact that I was still bothered by the blow he’d delivered to me on the night of Selene’s incident.

  “Yes, I did. But I wanted to give you some time to deal with what happened first.” I heard the sound of papers being moved around. “As I mentioned before, according to this report, she was born in Paris. On further investigation, my man found out that Selene did in fact have another sister, other than Marley. Her name was Diane. She is reported to have disappeared twenty-six years ago. The trail had grown cold after she vanished so no one knew her whereabouts.

  I shut my eyes, fighting the feeling of dread twisting inside my gut. “Does it say who Diane’s father was?”

  He sighed. “Non. It is blank.”

  “All right,” I said, massaging my neck to relieve the tension there. “I will see you tomorrow.”

  After disconnecting the call, I took deep breaths to calm down before walking back inside the room, mulling this new information. And just for a second, the resemblance between Selene and Colette flashed inside my head.

  Shit, no. Life couldn’t be that coincidental. Could it?

  Shaking those thoughts off, I halted next to Selene’s bed, my thoughts screeching to a stop.

  What the bloody hell?

  Tears trickled down the sides of her face and her fingers twitched on the bed. What was happening? I took her hand, and covered it with mine as my mind raced with the possibilities of what might be happening. All of them terrifying. The beeps from the monitor increased as her blood pressure started to rise. I snatched the nurse call button and pressed it.

  Where are the fucking nurses?

  I dropped it, rushed out of the room and scanned the corridor. The two policemen and one security guard straightened, startled by my sudden appearance.

  The security guard stepped forward. “Monsieur St. Germain, can I . . .” His words trailed off as I scowled and stalked down the hallway toward the nurses’ station, too impatient to wait.

  Four nurses were chatting and laughing. One of them looked up, then quickly gestured to her workmates. One look in my direction had them scrambling up from their chairs and pretending to be organizing files and fuck knows what else, except one short woman with blonde hair, who seemed braver.

  “That thing is lighting up like a bloody lighthouse, but you’re just standing there, talking and laughing?” I snarled.

  Her face turned scarlet; she shot up from her chair and darted past me. “Pardon, Monsieur St. Germain,” she whispered, loudly enough for the words to reach me, her gaze focused on the floor as she dashed toward Selene’s room.

  I glared at the three women before turning and following the short nurse. Taking a deep breath, I entered the room. She glanced up, but quickly averted her eyes as soon as she met mine.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I snapped, pointing to Selene, lying on the bed.

  The nurse wiped her palms on her white uniform. “Nothing seems to be the problem, Monsieur St. Germain. Her vitals seem okay and—”

  “That monitor was going ballistic. And my wife is crying.” I gritted out the words. The nurse snapped her head back, her eyes widening at my tone. “Why the bloody hell is she crying?”

  She moved around the bed and walked toward me. “Her blood pressure seems to have normalized. Sometimes when the patient is experiencing some emotion in her current state, it affects their vitals, especially the blood pressure. It’s natural for patients in a coma to show emotion.” She raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Look,” she pointed toward the bed. I followed her gaze and sucked in a breath as I stared at Selene. “She’s smiling.”

  I stepped around the woman and strode to the bed. “She’s smiling. But she’s also crying.” I could hear the wonder in my voice as I watched laughter and sadness play across Selene’s face. “What are you dreaming about, ma belle?” I murmured, settling down on the chair that had become a permanent fixture next to her bed. I took Selene’s hand in mine and weaved our fingers, caressing the soft skin of her knuckles with my thumb. “You have a way of shocking me every time, little minx.”

  I heard the nurse leave, but I didn’t take my eyes off the beautiful woman on the bed. Couldn’t take my eyes off her. Mon Dieu, I was in love with Selene and there was no denying that.

  “Christ, I love you. I remember the exact moment I fell in love with you, Selene. You’d opened the hotel room door, standing there looking beautiful, while I stood there, fighting myself. Fighting the demons that ruled my mind. You could have walked away, but you put your arms around me, you soothed me. You whispered words, and helped me. Please come back to me. I can’t live without my home.” Did this make me weak, or as Luc would say, pussy whipped, pouring my heart out like this? I didn’t really give a shit how it made me look. I’d be weak for her, drop on my knees and beg if I could see her smile again.

  The door opened, admitting my mother, Adrien and Èric. I rose from the chair and strode toward them as Adrien dashed forward. I caught him in my arms, kissed my mother’s cheek and we stepped back into the hallway. Èric smiled briefly and nodded in greeting. I could see how difficult it was for him to
keep eye contact with me since the incident. We’d finally had a conversation about what happened a few days ago in the château and it seemed to ease his guilt about this situation.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked, forcing him to look at me.

  He nodded, then briefly updated me on what had happened after he drove my mother and Adrien to the hotel last night. I let him know what Gilles had found and that I’d be flying to Paris early the next morning. We made arrangements for him to pick up Marley from the airport in three hours, and then I returned to the room with Adrien in my arms. As soon as I was closer to the bed, he squirmed, his usual energetic self, eager as always to see her.

  “She is still sleeping, Papa,” Adrien whispered, his gaze fixed on Selene in fascination. “Just like the princess in the story Mamie read to me yesterday.” He turned his big, innocent eyes to face me. “Maybe if you kiss her, she will wake up.”

  I chuckled, flicked a look at the bed and exhaled in relief. Dieu merci. There was no sign of tears on Selene’s face.

  “You know that was only a story, my sweet.” My mother and I exchanged a glance. He seemed to be taking things easier, now the tube had been removed. “I bet she has been waiting for you. Would you like to talk to her or sing?”

  He nodded quickly, smiling and dashed toward the bed.

  “Adrien.” He jerked around and looked at me. “Remember, no running,” I said, softly but firmly. He nodded quickly and pressed his index finger on his lips with a silent “Shhh” before tiptoeing toward the bed.

  My mother chuckled and then turned to focus on me. “Any changes? What did the doctor say about . . . her situation?” I heard the hesitation in her voice, as if she wasn’t sure to call Selene by her name.

  “Her? You mean Selene?” I asked her, raising a brow. She glanced at the bed, then back at me, giving me a look as if to tell me to stop being cheeky, and nodded.

  I updated her on Selene’s progress while fighting a smile at the looks she kept sneaking to the bed.