Two hours passed, and Ray or any of the police reported some good news. In thirty minutes, Oliver’s parents were going to arrive. I was supposed to leave and gather the dignity that’s left of me. But I can’t just leave Chicago without seeing Oliver, without seeing if he’s okay or alive.
“I made you a cup of hot chocolate,” Chris said as he and Luke sat down with me in the kitchen table.
I smiled weakly at him. “Thanks,” I said and took a sip. It tasted stale.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman are going to arrive in a few minutes,” Luke told me ever-so gently. “Maybe we could talk to them. I could be really persuasive.”
“I’m pretty sure their minds are not going to change,” I said, shaking my head. “Besides, it’s my entire fault. If I… if I just did my job properly…”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Chris said and squeezed my hand. “We’ll sort this out. You won’t leave, I assure you.”
“The job isn’t important, Chris. I don’t care about the job. I care about Oliver. I want him back,” I said, my voice breaking with emotion. “I don’t care if Mr. Hoffman would drag me to New York. I just have to see Oliver one last time before I leave. I want to see him safe and alive.”
“And you will!” he insisted. “You will, Rebecca.”
“Why don’t you take a nap, hmm?” Luke suggested. “It’s like, almost eleven. Just… rest. We’ll wake you up when the police has news.”
I nodded. I needed the rest. I was tired, and my eyes were about to close. I smiled at Chris apologetically as I pushed the cup of hot chocolate back to him. He just nodded understandably.
I walked up the stairs and instead of using the Guest Room, where I usually sleep, I walked in inside Oliver’s room. I closed my eyes and inhaled his familiar scent, that boyish cologne that he always used. I crawled onto his bed and hugged myself. The tears left my eyes again and it soaked Oliver’s pillow.
***
I woke up with someone banging his fist on the table. My eyes fluttered open as I heard a familiar voice shout, “What do you mean it’s not her fault?! It’s her entire fault why my son is gone! She didn’t do her job properly!”
I heard a chair moving. Then Luke’s voice: “Mr. Hoffman, sir, she didn’t know she was tricked!”
“Don’t you dare try to reason with me, young man. I know what I’m talking about.”
I got out of the bed. I need to have my say on this. It’s supposed to be me down there. I was about to open the door, when it was opened for me. The door opened, revealing Mrs. Hoffman. She jumped, startled, when she saw me. I just stood there, staring at her with my mouth slightly open. What do you say to the woman whose son you’re supposed to be protecting got lost?
“Rebecca, I didn’t know you’re here,” she said. “Harold told me you were gone.”
“Well, I’m not going to leave without seeing Oliver,” I said with a shrug. “I’m sorry your son is lost, Mrs. Hoffman. Mr. Hoffman’s right; it’s my entire fault.”
And she did something that surprised me. She stepped forward and put her arms around me. She ran a hand through my hair and I felt her tears soaking on the side of my neck. I closed my eyes and hugged her back.
Sometimes people don’t say anything. You just need a hug and that one action would speak the words you cannot utter.
When she pulled away from me, she was wiping her tears and a small laugh escaped her lips. “I’m sorry about that, Rebecca. I didn’t mean to cry on you just like that.”
YOU ARE READING
Where He Stands
RomanceWho says only guys could protect girls? Rebecca Georges is one example. When Harold Hoffman, owner and founder of Hoffman Incorporated, appointed her as the personal bodyguard for his son, she is far from thrilled. But what could she do? Thirty-thou...
