𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐄𝐘
For the past five years, I've managed to avoid him. I've managed to forget about him and move on from him. Mostly. Alex Lancaster and I have history, but nothing will ever change between us.
At least until he shows up at my dad's work...
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I know I shouldn't have left like that. I knew I should've stayed and talked to him. Communicated.
But I was inches away from a panic attack, and I need a break for right now.
Walking to my mom's hospital room, I open the door, only to find it's empty. Brows furrowed, I walk to the desk, confused. "Excuse me, do you know what happened to Isabel Hayes?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Isabel Hayes. In room four-o-three?" I point over my shoulder at the room.
"Uhm..." She clicks her keyboard, searching the computer. "Mrs. Hayes was moved to another hospital a few days ago."
"Do you know where?" My voice is begging, but I don't care. I need to know where my mom is.
"No. And even if I did, I'm not able to give you that information." She gives me a sorrowful look.
"What? Why not? I'm her daughter." I state. Why wouldn't she tell her daughter where her mother is? She's family. I'm family.
"The doctor wrote a note on her file saying Mr. Hayes requested no one know where she was being taken." She explains.
Rage fuels inside of me. My dad. My fucking dad.
I smile thinly at her, hiding the way my hands are balled into fists. "Thank you." Then I'm storming to the elevator, taking it down to the entrance floor.
Before I know it, I'm swerving into a parking spot, not even bothering to check that I'm parked well enough, before I'm climbing out, storming to the doors. I whip the door open, stalking inside with my fists flexing.
"Lindsey, how lovely to see you." My father's assistant calls. I ignore her. "Lindsey?"
I storm up the stairs, the same stairs me and Alex had our first face-to-face interaction. I storm through the hallway, surely drawing the attention of other employees. Bursting through the door of my father's office, I slam the door behind me.
"I'm not taking any more clients today." He says without looking up.
"Then it's a good thing I'm not a client." I seethe, glaring at him.
His head snaps up, finding me standing in front of his desk with my hands balled into fists tightly. "Lindsey."
"Where is she?" I demand.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He leans back in his chair, shrugging innocently.
"Really?" I smile humorlessly. "Because the hospital told me that you requested no one know the location you put my mother."
"She's fine, Lindsey. You can leave now." He gestures to the door, then returns to the paperwork on his desk.
Storming up to the desk, I push the items of his desk then slam my hands on top. "Where is my mother?"
