Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 27

Santa Monica, California

March 2006

She woke on time, dressed, and went downstairs for the usual breakfast and medicine. Sabian's seat at the head of the table was ostentatiously empty. Anna took her spot next to George and ate. She swallowed one pill and pocketed the other out of habit.

    Ricardo, with dark circles under his eyes and disheveled hair, joined them. He moved and ate in a daze until he noticed Anna at the table. "What are you doing here?"

    Before she could open her mouth, George answered for her. "Leave her be. She's innocent."

    "She may be a victim, but that doesn't mean she's innocent."

    Anna's temper flared, words unsaid filling her with heat. George's look of protectiveness disarmed her, though. For him, she would bite her tongue—this time.

    Ricardo left the table and clanged his plate and fork into the kitchen sink before disappearing down the hall. Anna and Elliott exchanged glances. George sighed and pushed away his plate. Only Chef continued to eat.

    She hesitantly broke the silence. "Where is everyone?"

    "Peter, Will, and Sabian were badly injured. They'll remain in the hospital room until the doctor says they can leave." George rose and collected his and Anna's plate. "Chef, be sure to bring them some food."

    "I'll bring it," Anna said. Chef nodded tiredly. Together they prepared portions of the meal. George slammed the office door shut behind him.

    "Everyone's a little stressed, but we've seen worse than this," Chef whispered. He sighed and leaned against the counter. "I gotta go to Garrison's and cook. Can you handle this?"

    Anna nodded and finished arranging the plates onto trays. One at a time, she carried them into the hospital room. The doctor welcomed the sight of the food and dug in. The three men in the beds slept. Now that she'd heard their names, she recognized their faces. Peter and Will both worked in security with Ricardo. Anna set one of the trays on Sabian's bedside table.

    "Don't wake him," mumbled the doctor through a mouthful of stew. "He was up most of the night with the pain. Let him sleep while he can."

    With relief, she noted that the IV of blood no longer stood at Sabian's bedside. She looked down at him and watched him sleep for a moment before leaving to clean the kitchen.

    When she was done, she went to George. She frowned at the sight of his tired, grief-stricken face and collapsed into the chair across the desk from him. "Are you okay, George?"

    "I'm fine."

    "Did you get hurt in the fight?"

    He sat a little taller. "You remember it?"

    It always happened like that. The memories came back without her realizing it. Subtle. They crept up on her sometime in her sleep, when she couldn't easily distinguish between dream and reality.

    "I think it was because of Casey," she said in a distant voice.

    George nodded. "Some people think it was because of you, too."

    "No! I—" She shook her head.

    George reached across the desk, let his hand fall open. "Sweetheart." His kind words surprised her, but she put her hand in his nonetheless. "I know you didn't have anything to do with it."

    He stood to open his arms to her and she stepped around the desk to hug him. They held each other for a long moment. He smoothed her hair down over her back as she held back tears.