Given the number of photographs lining the staircase wall, Morgan figured Theresa and Daniel, Gage’s father, must have spent at least eighty percent of the last thirty-plus years taking pictures of their children. On her way out of the bathroom, she found herself pulled into the family’s history. She traced Gage all the way to infancy, including the obligatory naked baby on a rug. Is this what his son would look like? Would his boy gaze out with wide-eyed curiosity at everything around him?
“God forbid fire ever strikes this house, but if it does, everyone’s under orders to grab pictures first.” Theresa joined her on the staircase and leaned against the railing as she watched Morgan observe her family. “I was sorry to hear about your mother.”
“She loved taking pictures of us.” Morgan ran her finger along the edge of a wood frame. “We thought it was annoying, even gave her a bad time about it, particularly when she demanded we all get into one together. What I wouldn’t give for just one more.”
“She raised a wonderful daughter.”
Morgan gave a sad smile. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.” Wonderful daughters didn’t put their mother’s legacy at risk.
“I see how my son looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. Especially when you aren’t looking. Plus, you’re the first woman he’s brought home.”
Morgan angled her head. “You blackmailed him into inviting me.”
“Ah, but he asked and you said yes. That means I was right. You’ll be good for each other.” And now sadness appeared as she focused on a more recent picture of Gage surrounded by his brothers and sisters. “He almost died last year. Did he tell you?”
Morgan’s skin went clammy. She shivered. “No.” He hadn’t said a word. “What happened?”
“Joint operation with the FBI. He was so excited.” Theresa shook her head. “I was terrified, of course, but it’s what he’d always wanted. Law and order, justice. Catch the bad guys. Then the operation went bad, his backup went to the wrong address, and Gage’s cover was blown. The gunshot missed his heart by less than a centimeter.” She held her fingers apart. “That much closer and he wouldn’t be here. As it was, he lost one of his kidneys when the second man stabbed him.”
Morgan’s pulse flatlined. That much closer and they never would have met. The idea of never having seen him, touched him. Kissed him. The need to see Gage’s face felt as urgent as the need to breathe.
“I’ve been waiting for him to see there’s more to life than his work, than his job. Now, thanks to you, he has.”
“He still only sees his job,” Morgan corrected. “And he’s not the only one.”
“But you also see each other. This Nemesis business has been hard on him. Brady Malloy was a good friend for a lot of years, and I think Gage sees closing the case as a way to make up for losing touch with him.” Theresa brought a hand up to Morgan’s cheek. “You make my son smile, and for that alone I can never thank you enough. Now come, it’s time to eat, and then presents. I can’t wait to see what you came up with for Stephen.” She took Morgan’s hand and led her down the stairs.
“Oh, no. It was all Gage—”
“Oh, Morgan, please. I know my son. You got a last-minute panicked phone call, didn’t you? He forgot to get the present? Had no idea what to get? The entire family was depending on him?”
Morgan’s mouth twisted. She should have known.
“Don’t feel bad,” Theresa laughed. “It’s the one con he can pull off. Means he trusts you and that he didn’t have to rely on me to bail him out this time.” She patted a hand against her heart. “Makes my heart happy.”
***
“Best present ever,” Gage whispered into Morgan’s ear as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. They’d taken the party outside along with the gifts, and as the sun began to set, a raucous game of badminton ensued, pitting sisters against brothers, husband against wife. “I don’t think any of us will forget the look on his face when he saw that car collection. You were right—the personalized license plate was an inspired touch.”
“You’re just glad you didn’t have to ask your mother for help this year.”
“I knew she’d rat me out.” Gage laughed and hugged her tighter.
Sadness swept through her even as her body tingled. The evening was coming to an end. Their “one” was nearly done. But she leaned against him, covered his hands with hers, and enjoyed the moment. Men like him didn’t come around for women like her, and while she’d be lying to say she hadn’t developed feelings for him, it was better to break this off now before things went too far. The longer this went on, the harder it would be to keep secrets—keep the truth—from him, and Morgan was so tired of lying. Besides, it wasn’t just the center and the foundation and the kids she was protecting. She had to protect her heart.
She had to protect Gage and his family.
“Your mother told me what happened last year. With the shooting.”
His hold on her stiffened, as if his bones had been replaced by iron. “Ancient history.”
“Not for her.” She turned to face him, linked her arms around his neck. “Not for you, either, I think.”
“Is this your way of asking me what happened?”
“If you want to tell me, I’ll listen.”
“Nothing to tell, really.” But his shrug was anything but casual. “Eight months of undercover work and when it went wrong, they blamed me. Said I didn’t follow procedure even though statements from other agents proved otherwise. I was an easy target because I’d been on loan from the L.A. police. By then it was too late. I was pulled from the task force, and since my old position with the department down south had been cut for budget reasons—”
“You came home.” She stroked her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Seemed a good place to start over, get my footing back. Figure out what I wanted for my life. Well, that and there aren’t as many drug shootouts in Lantano Valley.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Morgan couldn’t help but wonder how things between them might be different if he’d stayed a cop. “Do you like your new job?”
Gage shrugged. “Sure. It’s nice to trust the people I’m working with. People I knew wouldn’t throw me to the wolves if something went wrong. Besides, now I’m the one in charge.” He angled his head, tapped a finger against her lips. “And look where that’s taken me.”
How she wished she’d never heard of Nemesis.
“You two need to get a room.” Gage’s brother Stephen grabbed another beer from the cooler, swiping the frosty bottle over his forehead as he grinned at them.
Of all the sons, Stephen most resembled his father, but she’d noticed each of the Juliano kids had a certain glimmer in their eye that continued to sparkle, especially when they were teasing one another. “We’re taking odds on when Mom starts looking at bridal magazines. Want in?”
“I do not.” Gage turned and came face-to-face with his mother. “Um, hi?”
“Jon wants to be a cop.”
Morgan squirmed to get away, but Gage held on, no doubt planning to use her as a shield.
“Not exactly. He’s a geek, Mom. A talented one, although don’t tell him I said so.” Theresa’s accusatory glare softened. “He’ll get all the training he needs. He’s smart. He’ll adapt and he’ll learn from his mistakes. It’s what he wants. If it matters, I think he’ll be good at it.”
“You’ll watch out for him.” Definitely not a question.
“As much as I can. He’s his own man. Took guts to tell you when he didn’t have to. He could have waited until it was too late. Like I did.”
“My children do have guts,” Theresa said, and winked at Morgan. “First you, then Jon, now Gina. A mother likes to see her children’s lives falling into place. Now, if we can get Liza to settle on something . . .” And with that, Theresa buzzed over to her husband for a kiss.
“Your poor sister.” Morgan looked over to his sisters. “It’s like she’s a walking target.”
“Liza’s not as unfocused as mom thinks. Although not as determined as Gina.”
“I don’t think Attila the Hun was as determined as Gina is. Um.” She peeked up at him. “Any chance there’s any chocolate cake left?”
“I was just thinking the same thing. I know where she stashes the leftovers.”
“Just let me check my messages.” Morgan retrieved her purse, pulled out her phone, and felt her mouth go dry. Nine text messages. Seven voice mails. All from Angela. Her entire body flooded into ice. “Oh, God.” Her hand trembled as she tried to remember how to access her phone book. “Oh, God, what is it?”
“Morgan?” Gage set down two plates of cake on the table as he passed through the dining room. She heard the sliding door open and close. The look of concern on Gage’s face shifted to controlled cop the instant he saw her. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know? Voice mails, messages. Angela said she’d only call if there was a problem with one of the kids.” She never should have let herself get distracted. She should have had her phone with her. She dialed the house, wrapped an arm around her waist as the phone rang.
“Morgan, thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour.” Angela’s normally calm voice rang with barely controlled panic. “It’s Drew. He’s been in an accident.”
***
“You can just drop me off.”
Gage leaned over and pulled the door closed to prevent Morgan from dashing out of the car and into the hospital before he’d stopped the car. “You need to stop.”
“Gage, I need to get in there. I need to see for myself he’s okay.”
“You’re not going to do anyone any good in the state you’re in, so just take a minute. Let me find a parking place. You just sit there and remember how to breathe.” Aside from calling her sister to ask if she could stay with the kids, Morgan hadn’t uttered two words since they got into the car, but he could hear the wheels in her head grinding. He wished she’d just scream and get the fear and frustration out of her system instead of stewing in it. “Kick the anger, Morgan. It won’t help the situation.”
“What the hell was he doing out? He was grounded.”
“As a former teenage boy, I can tell you that’s exactly why he went out. He’s a typical kid, Morgan. Try treating him like one.”
She didn’t give any indication she heard him.
“I never should have put my phone away. Another few minutes, another hour—”
“Stop feeling guilty because you took some time for yourself.”
“I didn’t take it for myself. I took it for you and look what happened. There—” She pointed ahead and to the left. “There’s a spot. Park there.”
He took the verbal blow because she needed to swing at someone, but that didn’t make the words sting any less. What he wanted to do was shake some sense into her. Heading in to see Drew in her current state of mind was going to make the situation worse. Getting between Morgan and one of her kids, however, could be as dangerous as stepping in front of a barreling freight train.
“You don’t have to come in.” She pushed out of the car before he could turn off the engine, but he caught up before she hit the emergency room entrance and grabbed her arm, spun her around.
“Forget the fact that my mother would flat-out kill me if I let you go in there by yourself. You need someone to yank you off the ledge.” He gripped her arms until he saw her wince, confirmation he had her attention. “Get your head on straight and go in there and talk to him.”
“What did you think I was going to do?” Disgust dripped from her tone.
“Talk at him.” A glimmer of acknowledgment flickered in her green eyes. “You’re scared, Morgan. Hell, you’re terrified, and you have every right to be. But don’t take that into the room with you. Rail at him later, ground him for life next week, but for right now, he’s a hurt kid.”
“Easy for you to say. He’s not your kid.” She tried to wrench free.
“If you’re not careful, he won’t be yours either.” Now he did shake her. “For God’s sake, Morgan, why won’t you let anyone help you with him? Why won’t you let us help you with anything?”
“I don’t need anyone’s help. My debt’s been paid in full, you got your one. Now go away.” She twisted her arms with enough force to break his hold.
My debt’s been paid in full. The words ricocheted against his ears like a hollow-point bullet. Damnable, frustrating, stubborn.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she see he wanted to help her? To show her she didn’t have to take everything onto her already overburdened shoulders.
She didn’t want his help; hell, he’d all but become invisible the second she’d gotten the call about Drew. Understandable, sure, but why was it that whatever angle he tried to take with her she, deflected him?
What the hell was he still doing here?
Because whether she knew it or not, wanted to admit it or not, she needed him.
Embracing the anger she’d leveled at him, he followed her through the double doors, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed his father, who answered on the first ring. “Hey, Dad. I need your advice and help with something.”
Morgan thought he was in her way? She hadn’t seen anything yet.
***
“And you said smoking would kill me.” From his prone position on the gurney in the emergency room and the dazed look in Drew’s eyes, his comment didn’t carry the humorous punch Morgan figured he intended.
His handsome young face was cut; the butterfly bandages across one cheek and over his right eye told her flying glass had been involved. His left hand twitched where it lay on the bed, attached to beeping monitors and an overhead IV.
But it wasn’t until then that she felt as if she could breathe again. “Thank God you’re okay.” The tightness in her chest and throat eased. “I haven’t talked to your doctors yet. What did they tell you? Did they remember to test your blood?” She indicated the Medic Alert medallion around his neck.
“Yes.” The venom in his voice made her cringe. “Yes, they tested my blood.”
“Drew—”
“Accident destroyed my pump.” He jerked the hospital gown free and exposed the tube dangling from his side, but kept his face turned away.
“I don’t care about your pump.”
“Since when?”
“I—” Morgan’s mind went blank.
“Since when do you care about anything other than this fucking disease?” When he did look at her, she saw what she described as anguish on his features.
“Drew—” She moved closer but he swung his arms wild and sent the water pitcher and vomit tray flying against the wall.
“I’m not this damned disease. Why don’t you ever see me?” Tears pooled in his eyes and she saw him struggle to keep them from falling. “Why don’t you see me?”
Just as fast, the stoic taciturn Drew returned. His face closed as if he’d slammed a door. He swiped at his face, as if the thought of tears was abhorrent. “Just go away.”
The three words struck like arrows in her heart. The same words she’d said to Gage moments ago. Except now she understood what Gage had been trying to tell her. Now wasn’t the time to chastise Drew for his reckless behavior or even rail at him for being an irresponsible teenager.
What he needed, what he’d always needed, was for someone to listen to him.
She set her purse on the floor and sat on the edge of his bed. “Tell me what happened.” His clenched fists relaxed, his gaze darted to her and away, as if afraid to believe his words had had an impact. “I promise, I won’t be mad,” she said. “Just tell me what happened.” And because she needed to, she brushed the hair out of his eyes.
He shrugged, but avoided her probing gaze. “We were just going to go for a ride in some guy’s car. Jonesy had the keys. But then Ruffo brought out this bag with beers and I wanted to get out. I know smoking is bad enough—no way am I going to mess with booze. You know that.”
“I know.” Morgan nodded.
“Jonesy reached for the bag, took his eyes off the road and slammed the car into a telephone pole. I was pinned, felt my pump break. There was beer everywhere. I couldn’t get free from the seat belt—”
“Thank you for wearing one,” Morgan interrupted.
“Yeah. Like I don’t hear about it every time we get into the car. Next thing I know, I heard sirens and Ruffo and Jonesy were gone, and then I woke up here.” Another shrug, only this one seemed less forced, as if he didn’t feel quite so heavy. “They’re going to use this to take me away from you guys, aren’t they? That CPS chick.”
“If that CPS woman is Deanna Crawford, she’s here.”
Morgan spun on the thin squeaky mattress as Gage came in. Regret washed over her as she thought about what she’d said to him, how she’d treated him, and yet here he was.
What was wrong with the man? Didn’t he see she didn’t deserve his loyalty? His concern? And yet, seeing him made her feel more in control. More importantly, he’d just proven how much he cared.
“They aren’t going to take you from us. Not if we can help it,” Morgan told Drew as she covered his hand with hers. “I need to go talk to her and your doctor, okay?”
“Don’t move,” Gage warned Drew, but without the heat she’d have expected. Drew must have sensed the shift as well because he frowned.
“Man, where would I go? Do you know what they stuck up my—”
“I have a pretty good idea.” Gage nodded seriously. “Angela and Nico are waiting.”
Morgan stood, then planted her hands on either side of Drew’s hips and leaned over. “We both have some making up to do. We can both do better with each other. But you need to make up your mind, Drew. Do you want to stay with us, yes or no? No.” She shook her head when he opened his mouth. “No. You need to think about this. I’ll promise to do better. When you’re ready, you tell me. And Drew?” She waited until he met her gaze. “I do see you. Maybe I didn’t before, but I do now.”
Morgan followed Gage to where Nico and Angela waited at the nurse’s station. A petite, dark-haired woman with a tablet computer snug under her arm was nearby.
Even from a distance, Morgan knew the conversation wasn’t going well.
“Tonight’s events leave me no choice, Mr. Fiorelli. I’ve redrafted my letter of protest on Drew’s placement and plan to file it with the juvenile court in the morning.”
Whether it was the woman’s choice of words, her superior tone, or the disdain with which she looked at Morgan as she approached, had Gage not draped an arm over her shoulders, Morgan might have pounced on the Child Protective Services chick like a puma on a rabbit.
“I was just reminding Ms. Crawford that Drew’s situation is a sensitive and unique one,” Angela said, the tension and worry beginning to show on her strained face. She clung to Nico with white knuckles.
“Every case is sensitive,” Ms. Crawford dismissed Angela’s argument. “Like the other cases in your house. I don’t believe Drew is an appropriate influence on them—”
“Children,” Morgan cut in. “They’re children, not cases.” A lesson learned she wasn’t about to forget.
“With the other children in residence, the attention Drew needs isn’t available,” Ms. Crawford said.
“And another foster home . . . What would this be, his sixteenth in seven years?” Morgan asked with an arched brow. “Would another foster home be able to give him what you think is lacking?”
“Of course, nothing can be guaranteed,” Ms. Crawford admitted.
“Drew’s home is with us. We’re his family,” Nico said, and Morgan heard in his voice how he’d taken this attack on his ability to care for his kids personally.
“Clearly removing Drew from the house at this point is going to do more harm than good,” Gage said.
“Who are you?” Ms. Crawford angled her pointed nose in Gage’s direction.
“Inspector Gage Juliano from the District Attorney’s office. I’m also a friend of the family.”
“Well, Inspector,” Ms. Crawford said. “I’m sure as a law enforcement representative you’ll agree that Drew’s reckless behavior sets a poor example to the other children in the house. For him to disregard his condition and be drinking to the point of intoxication—”
“Drew wasn’t drinking,” Morgan snapped, and while she understood Gage’s attempt to silence her with a squeeze of his hand, on this topic she refused to be silent. “He wouldn’t. He was trying to get away from the boys who were.”
“A teenage boy out without permission, an open six-pack of beer found in the car, and you expect me to believe—”
“They ran his blood, right? Those results should be in by now.” Gage signaled to one of the nurses, took out his ID. “Can I speak with Drew Palmer’s doctor or nurse when they have a moment? Tell them we’d like to see his latest blood work results.”
The nurse scampered away as Gage drew Morgan tighter into his side.
“You have read Drew’s file, right?” Morgan felt like snapping her fingers in front of Ms. Crawford’s face to regain her attention. “Because if you have, then you know his parents were killed by a drunk driver when he was seven. He wouldn’t drink, and if he did, he wouldn’t drive or be in a car with someone who did. Maybe if you spoke to him instead of relying on files and paperwork, you might see Drew is where he needs to be.”
“Morgan,” Gage whispered over her head. “Enough. Let’s see the test results.”
“She wants to take my kid.” Morgan couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice. “Our kid. He belongs with us. So he’s stupid at times. Who isn’t? He’s a teenage boy, for crying out loud. They’re all stupid.” As Gage had pointed out.
“Until I see proof that Drew wasn’t drinking—” Ms. Crawford said.
“Because his word isn’t good enough,” Morgan spat.
“Okay, give us a moment, would you, Ms. Crawford?” Gage pulled Morgan into a faraway corner and leaned over her. “Antagonizing her isn’t going to help your case. Drew made the choice to go with the boys. He has a history of delinquency. You have a house filled with impressionable kids. This isn’t going to be a cake-walk. He’s not a saint, so stop overcompensating for your mistakes with him and work with her. You think she wants to go to all the trouble of moving him?”
Morgan snapped her mouth shut, glared at him. Did he always have to be so damned right? “He goes to another foster home, he’ll be lost, Gage.” Morgan hugged her arms around herself and squeezed. “It’ll be my fault. I failed him. I didn’t see him through all the shit I pile on myself, and because of that his life might never be what it could be.”
Dammit, she hated the tears and she would not let them fall. As long as she could keep them inside, she’d be okay. As long as she kept control.
“Of all the—” Gage took a deep breath. “Why is everything that goes wrong your fault?”
Because as far as Morgan could tell, everything was her fault. Everything she’d tried to do to protect her kids, to protect her work, was falling apart. If only she could tell him the truth, tell anyone the truth, then maybe she could put a stop to the hemorrhaging that had become her life.
“You just can’t help but take the entire world on your shoulders, can you?” Gage asked. “Okay, we tried this your way. Let’s try mine. But you keep these”—he tapped a finger against her lips—“shut.”
“But—”
“Shut it, Morgan.” Gage’s warning glare stole the words from her lips as they returned to the Fiorellis and the social worker. “Ms. Crawford, the crux of your argument is that you think Drew needs more supervision, more responsibility.”
“I—yes. He needs something to keep him occupied. Obviously that isn’t an option while he’s residing at this residence, and with summer coming there’s no telling what trouble he might get into.”
“Then we don’t have a problem. As soon as his doctors give their approval, Drew will start his new job as a stock clerk at the J & J Market a few blocks from the Fiorelli house. Part-time, of course, to start with, and then after classes during the school year. He’ll be under the direct supervision of the owner, Daniel Juliano, my father.”
Nico, Morgan, and Angela all stared at him, but Gage continued as if this revelation was common knowledge. “And just in case you’re worried about his weekends, he’ll be getting a crash course in home repair and garden maintenance from either Morgan or myself. Plenty to do around the Fiorellis’, and if not there, my father can use some help and my yard has seen better days. I can assure you, from tonight on, Drew will not be wondering what to do with his free time because he won’t have any.”
Doubt still hovered on Ms. Crawford’s face. “You’re willing to put yourself, your reputation, your family’s reputation on the record as assurance? You could be called to testify on any future hearings regarding the boy’s placement. You’d also be subject to interviews and visits to assure compliance.”
“As I’m all about rules and regulations, I understand the commitment I’m making,” Gage said, but Morgan heard an undertone of annoyance in his voice.
“Inspector Juliano?” A young man in a white coat approached them. His wire-rim glasses and pale complexion made Morgan wonder if he’d just walked out of the frat house and was playing doctor. “I was told you were interested in Drew’s initial blood results? I’m afraid I can’t release them without his legal—”
“That would be us,” Angela jumped in, silently daring Ms. Crawford to state otherwise. “Can you just tell us what his blood alcohol level was?”
The doctor blinked as if he misheard. “Zero. He hadn’t been drinking. The trauma of the accident sent his blood sugar sky high, so we need to admit him so we can repair or replace his insulin pump, but other than that, I’d say he’s very lucky.”
Morgan didn’t realize until the balloon of pressure burst in her chest how important that bit of information had been.
“Thanks, Doctor.” Gage shook his hand. “Appreciate the information.”
Without saying another word, Gage returned his attention to Ms. Crawford, who cleared her throat, made some notes on her tablet computer.
“Given the developments, I suppose I can amend my protest regarding the child’s—”
“Drew’s,” Gage said.
“Drew’s placement. But we’ll be following up, Inspector. With all of you.”
“Great. Give Kevin my best. Tell him he still owes me fifty from the Dodgers game.”
“Kevin?” Morgan asked as Ms. Crawford left looking as if a bomb went off in her face.
“Kevin McMahon.” Gage grinned. “Her boss at CPS. We went to high school together.”
Nico laughed and hugged Angela. “Gage, I don’t know if we could have come out of that without your help.”
“Do you want to tell Drew he’s coming home with us or should we?” Angela asked Morgan.
“Go ahead,” Morgan squeaked, her heart so full she couldn’t breathe.
The only thing she could think to do was turn into Gage, link her arms around his neck, and hold on to him as if only he could anchor her to the ground.
Feeling his arms around her, letting the heat of him, the strength of him seep into her in ways she hadn’t thought possible, made her feel safe yet utterly terrified.
“Just one downside that I can see,” Gage said, lifting her off her feet. “Afraid you aren’t getting rid of me just yet.” He pulled his chin in, dropped a kiss on her forehead.
Morgan attempted a smile, and when she failed, hid her face in his neck. Now what was she going to do?