Wait for Me

Chapter Thirteen

He stared at her so long with that guilt-ridden look, Kate wanted to shake the words out of him. “Ryan, what?”

“Tabofren showed promise in shrinking certain inoperable tumors. But the FDA put a stop to the clinical trials when major side effects started popping up, questioning its safety.”

“You already said that in the car,” she reminded him.

“I know. I just couldn’t remember what those side effects were.”

“Why do I have a feeling I don’t want to hear about those side effects?”

He swallowed and glanced at her abdomen. “The drug targeted a signaling pathway that stimulates tumor growth in patients with advance-stage cancers. We were really excited about it after initial animal testing, and so was the FDA. They fast-tracked it into clinical trials.”

“And?”

“Minor side effects included skin irritation, rashes, and dry mucous membranes. Nothing out of the ordinary. But the ones that caused the FDA to pull it were more serious. They were generally seen in patients with brain and spinal-cord tumors—severe headaches, changes in mood and personality, and…and memory loss.”

Oh, God.

Ryan’s fingers tightened around her waist, preventing her from easing away. “When patients in the clinical trials started reporting the symptoms, especially the black-out style memory lapses, they were backed off the drug. Most of them didn’t suffer any long-lasting effects.”

“Ryan, why would I have been given that? I don’t understand. You said I didn’t have cancer.”

“You didn’t. I don’t…I don’t quite know what’s going on here, but…”

“But what?” She couldn’t seem to keep the panic out of her voice. When he didn’t look up, she cupped her hand around his chin and lifted so he would look at her. “What, Ryan?”

He sat back and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Take a look at the screen and tell me if you recognize that man.”

Kate ran her fingers over the keypad of his computer. The screensaver blinked off. Jake’s face popped up. “Oh, my God.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said quietly.

“Why do you have Jake’s picture?”

“That’s Dr. Jacob McKellen. He developed Tabofren. He was heading the clinical studies.”

No. Kate turned to the screen then backed away. No. Not possible. Words choked in her throat. This wasn’t happening.

Ryan pushed out of the chair, grasped her by the shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t close in on me right now. Stay with me.”

“No. You’re wrong. There’s a different explanation. There has to be.”

“Babe—”

“Why? He did this to me on purpose?” How could the man she’d loved, had lived with for over a year, had trusted with her son…how could he intentionally have done something to hurt her?

“We don’t know that. This doesn’t make sense to me, either, but we’ll figure it out.” He pulled her into the warmth of his arms before she could back away.

She let him hold her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. Off Jake’s face looking back at her. Memories of their life together flashed in front of her eyes—Jake holding Reed at a backyard barbecue, dancing at a hospital fundraiser together, making love with him in their bed. A shudder ran through her, and she tried to wiggle away, but Ryan held her tight.

“You’re okay,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you.” She struggled but didn’t have the energy to fight him when he tightened his hold. Finally, she sank into him while emotions poured through her. How could she have been so wrong? How could she have not seen what Jake was underneath? Had she been blind? Or had she just not wanted to look close enough?

Ryan smoothed a hand over her hair, his lips whispered reassurances in her ear. But his earlier words echoed in her mind.

“You…you said his name was McKellen.”

He didn’t loosen his grasp. “Yeah. Jacob McKellen. His family’s owned and operated McKellen Publishing for years.”

Her shoulders slumped. Bile rose in her throat. “He…he said he never wanted me to work, but he didn’t object to my freelancing. He knew at some point I’d end up working for McKellen Publishing.”

“I thought of that. I don’t want you going to work tomorrow.”

“Ryan—”

“No, listen to me.” He pushed back to look down at her, his fingers gripping her shoulders with intent and compassion. “This is bigger than we thought. Millions of dollars were dumped into Tabofren. People were pissed when it was pulled. Your chart shows it was administered long after the FDA yanked the plug. Someone was testing it, either because they had a buyer, or they were trying to get around the FDA. Either way, your snooping around won’t sit well with whoever was behind this.”

She didn’t like what he was implying. “I thought Jake was behind this.”

“I don’t think he did this alone. I don’t think he could have. People at the nursing home knew. Someone at the publishing house knew.”

His words settled in the air between them. A clock ticked on the wall across the room. “Did you know him?” she asked quietly.

His eyes held hers, but she couldn’t read his thoughts. “I met him a few times. I didn’t know him well.”

Her eyes fell closed. They’d met. They’d talked. Her being with Jake wasn’t a coincidence.

He tightened his grip on her shoulders. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but I need you to be careful. Your face is going to be all over the papers. People will know you aren’t dead.”

One more thing to worry about. “I…I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I want you to see a doctor. Tomorrow.”

She swiped at her cheeks. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t argue with me on this.” The tone of his voice told her not to even try. “Tabofren was never tested long-term. We don’t know what the long-range effects could be.”

“I had a CT scan just before Jake died. It came back normal.”

“It was done by the doctor in Houston who disappeared, right?”

“Yes.” Her stomach rolled all over again. “You don’t think he’s involved too, do you?”

“I don’t know. But we need to be cautious. We’re not taking any chances here.”

“Oh, God,” she muttered again, sinking back into him. It was getting worse. Every new clue, every bit of information made her question just what she’d gotten herself into. What she’d gotten Reed into. What she’d dragged Ryan and Julia into.

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair. Warmth, safety, strength cocooned her. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Held tight against him, she wanted to forget everything they’d found, to cling to the lifeline that had become his body, to believe his words. His scent wafted in the air, brought a familiar sense of déjà vu. Closing her eyes, she turned her cheek against his chest and held him right back.

The rhythmic thumping of his heart reminded her she was alive. And in the silence, she could almost imagine what life with him had once been like. What he’d been like before…before losing Annie. Happy. Whole. A man who would move heaven and earth for the woman he loved.

But this wasn’t then. Neither of them were the same people they’d once been. And even though she wanted to lean on him and let him be her rock, there was still so much she didn’t know. About what had happened to her. About him. About how all of this—him included—was connected.

The truth would set her free. She couldn’t let this break her. She wouldn’t. She’d already come so far. The only thing she could do now was search for the answers she knew were out there.

And deal with the fallout when it happened.



***



“This cluster f*ck just gets bigger and bigger.” Mitch stood at the wet bar in Ryan’s office and tugged a hand through his hair.

“Tell me about it.” Ryan poured soda into a glass and glanced across the room at Annie and Simone, both of whom were sitting on the floor near the windows, quietly talking. Annie had put on a good face when Simone and Mitch had shown up, but he didn’t miss the way her hand trembled whenever she reached for her glass of wine or picked at the Chinese food they’d brought back. “She won’t come back to my place tonight, she’s too damn stubborn, but I don’t want her alone all the way out at that beach house.”

“You really think someone would go after her?”

“Thanks to that press conference today, her face has been plastered all over the media. She’s been snooping around that nursing home for weeks. Someone saw her and wouldn’t let her in. They know she’s looking for answers.” He glanced over at her again. “She’s been through enough, and I didn’t want to worry her, but I didn’t tell her everything.”

“Why doesn’t that statement leave me feeling all tingly inside?”

Ryan turned so the girls couldn’t hear him. “Jacob McKellen was pissed when Tabofren was pulled. He’d invested a good chunk of his own money into the R&D. He showed up here and about took my head off when he found out we decided to bag it. Told me he’d find a way to get it approved with or without my help. I brushed him off. Mitch” —he leaned forward— “two weeks later, Annie was gone.”

“Oh, shit.”

“It gets worse. I heard through the grapevine a few years ago that there were some clinical studies of a drug similar to Tabofren going on in Canada. They don’t have a watchdog group like the FDA up there. It’s easier to get government approval there, and when a company has the data, it’s easy to slip it in under the radar here in the US if you know the system. If a company can prove the drug is safe and works, the FDA will open it up for consideration.”

“You think he was testing it on his own?”

Sickness and a good dose of guilt swept through Ryan. “I don’t know. But that’s my hunch. I think he was using the nursing home as his test facility, then exporting the data to a Canadian company. We need to find the nurse who’s listed in Annie’s chart—”

“Kate’s chart,” Mitch cut in.

“Yeah,” Ryan said quickly. “Maybe she knows who McKellen was working with on this.”

“You two done whispering?” Simone set her wineglass on the bar and popped the cork out of the half-empty bottle of Merlot. One glance told Ryan Annie had stepped out of the room.

“We’re just bragging about our sex lives.” Mitch winked her way. “I got Ryan beat.”

Simone refilled her glass, slanted him a look. “Two middle-aged men talking about their conquests. There’s a shocker. Ryan, your company doesn’t happen to sell any of those nifty erectile dysfunction drugs, do they?”

“No, sorry. I can set you up with someone who does, though, if you’re in need.”

Simone shot Mitch a wicked grin. “There’s this guy who’s been trying to get me to go out with him. But I’m a little worried about his staying ability.”

“You’re both hilarious,” Mitch cut in. “And, sweetheart, anytime you want to go for a test drive, just let me know.”

Simone laughed, the sound easing the knot in Ryan’s chest, if even for a moment. “I’m pretty sure that’ll never happen. But I am glad to see you two are on speaking terms again.”

“Ryan can’t stay mad at me,” Mitch said. “I’m the only friend he’s got.”

“Yeah, like that’s true.” Ryan turned his attention toward Simone. “Any chance you can swing staying at Annie’s tonight?”

“You mean Kate’s?” Her gaze cut to Mitch.

“Yeah. I don’t want her out there all by herself.”

“I have Shannon. She’s with a sitter at home. Kate and Reed could come to our house, I guess.”

Annie reemerged from the bathroom, and they all fell silent.

“Quick,” she said stepping up to them at the bar, working for a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Change the subject. She’s back in the room.”

Mitch draped his arm around Annie’s shoulder, the move so casual, so comfortable, Ryan ached to be able to do the same. “So far we’ve covered sex and drugs. Rock-n-roll’s the next topic on the list. Pick a group.”

A grin spread across her face. One that tightened Ryan’s chest. He’d missed that and so much more these last five years.

“No?” Mitch raised a brow. “Okay, how about sleeping arrangements. Take your pick. You can have Simone, me, or Ryan.”

Her gaze darted from face to face, finally settling on Ryan. His heart bumped under those watchful eyes, and heat pooled in his gut. He’d give anything to have her come home with him.

“You guys aren’t serious, are you?”

“Afraid so.” Mitch sighed. “Consensus is you shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“Kate,” Simone said. “You’ve had a stressful day. Just humor us for tonight.”

“I have Reed to think about.”

“He and Julia are with Mom and Dad,” Mitch told her. “They’re probably swimming in the hotel pool or raiding the minibar. Trust me, he’s fine.”

She bit her lip. Tension flowed from her body, and when she reached up to rub her head, Ryan’s fingers itched to slide into that mass of curly chestnut hair and rub it for her, to take away some of the stress he’d ultimately caused. If she’d let him, he’d do just about anything to ease that anxiety and worry running through her whole body.

“Okay,” she finally said. “You win. I’m too tired to fight about this tonight.” She glanced at Simone. “But I know you have Shannon to worry about.” Then to Mitch, “And if this is as bad as we think, it’s not smart for Simone to be alone, either. It was made common knowledge today that she’s my lawyer. That she’s the one who recognized me first.”

“Kate—” Simone started.

“Humor me, Simone. I’ll feel better knowing you’re not alone, either. I don’t want to be the cause of anyone getting hurt. And we’re not all invading your house.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t argue with the woman,” Mitch said quickly. “She’s always been smart.”

Simone frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. But in her eyes, Ryan saw she wasn’t going to argue. She was as freaked out by all of this as the rest of them. “This doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about anything, Mathews.”

“Yet,” Mitch said with a grin.

Ryan wanted to laugh, but the situation was anything but funny. Then he realized what it all meant. When he looked toward Annie again, she was already eyeing him. His stomach flipped.

“I guess that leaves you and me,” she said. “My place or yours?”



***



Ryan tossed his keys on the entry table and closed the front door behind Annie. She wandered into his living room without a word and stopped in front of the fireplace, where a series of framed photos of their life together still sat on the mantel. Their wedding photo, the day they’d brought Julia home from the hospital, a picture of the two of them on a hiking trip up one of those stupid mountains she’d always been dragging him to.

What did she think when she looked at those pictures? Did she feel anything? His palms grew sweaty. His stomach churned like it was set on the spin cycle of a washing machine.

Guilt slithered in as he watched her look from photo to photo, clamped on tight to his heart. Guilt for not looking for her when he should have. Guilt for what was happening now. Guilt over the fact someone had purposely hurt her five years ago and that it could possibly be because of him.

He raked a hand through his hair, knowing dwelling on that guilt wasn’t going to change anything. The only thing that mattered now was keeping her safe. “Are you tired?”

She turned to face him. Moonlight spilled through the picture window, illuminating her features. Those deep green eyes, the high-set cheekbones, that mass of curly hair that fell to her shoulders and which he ached to slide his fingers through. “Exhausted.”

Her tired voice was like velvet and sandpaper all wrapped up together. He wanted to hear her say his name in that same sleepy tone like she had so many times before. Wanted to pick her up and take her to his bed. Wanted to wrap her in his arms, slide inside her body, and block out the rest of the world.

But he knew he couldn’t. She still wasn’t sure of him. He’d been an ass to her when he’d first found out who she was, and now they both knew he was indirectly responsible for her accident. Her wariness was warranted, and he didn’t want to push her. As much as he wanted—needed—to touch her, he wanted her to want him back. Even if it was only a fraction of his want for her.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for her to follow. “I’ll show you the guest room.”

He picked up her bag, the one they’d driven out to Moss Beach to get, and headed up the stairs. Her feet shuffled behind him, her sweet scent of lilacs drifted in the air. He hardened at just the thought of her lying in a bed down the hall from him tonight, so very close. So completely alive.

Cold shower. That’s what he needed right now. Maybe two. Or ten.

He pushed the guest-room door open, and when she eased by him, those silky strands of hair brushed his shoulder. Heavy tingling sensations shot straight to his groin.

“This is nice,” she said, turning a slow circle as she took in the pale blue walls, the white comforter on the queen-sized bed, the whitewashed furniture a decorator had picked out.

But nice wasn’t the word he was thinking of. Dressed in jeans and a fitted T-shirt, she was gorgeous. Curvy at her hips, tight through her legs and ass, and when she turned, the swell of her breasts tempted not only his body but his control. He’d had his hands on those luscious breasts earlier today, wanted his lips there now.

“Ryan?”

He glanced up and noticed her curious expression. “Sorry. Punchy. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, I guess it has.”

He set her bag on the bed, moved to open the adjacent door, and flipped on the light. Tried like hell to stop being so aware of every sound and movement she made. Couldn’t. “Bathroom’s through here.”

“Did I live here before?”

The soft-spoken question drew him around. What would it be like not to remember who or what you were? To have to rely on others to fill in the gaps? For the first time since she’d come back into his life, he realized how hard this must be for her.

He checked the urge to reach out to her and instead shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “No. I bought this house about four years ago.”

“Oh.”

She ran her hand over the blue-checked bedspread. He wished she’d touch him like that, couldn’t help but remember the way heat had sizzled all along his skin when her hands had brushed over him earlier in the day.

“Where did we live before?”

“We had a place in the city. After you…left…I couldn’t stand being there by myself.”

That was partly true. The real truth was he hadn’t been able to step foot in a single room in that house without remembering her being there, smiling at him, making love with him. Being in that house without her had almost killed him.

“Oh,” she said again. On a deep breath, she dropped her hand and looked at her feet.

Talking about the past wasn’t putting her at ease. And he didn’t want her uncomfortable. He went into the bathroom and pulled towels out of the linen closet, then set them on the counter. When he made his way back out into the bedroom, she was already going through her bag.

Her face was drawn, her mascara smudged under her eyes. She looked like she could nod off to sleep at any moment. “I guess I’ll just let you get some rest, then.”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah?” He stopped at the open door, glanced back.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For this…for putting you out.”

“You’re not.”

She shook her head. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry about all of this. I shouldn’t have come to San Francisco. I didn’t stop to think about how this would affect anyone but myself. I’ve sucked you into this nightmare. I’ve caused nothing but confusion and heartache for Julia and Reed. And now I’ve put Simone and Shannon in danger.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said softly.

“Yeah, I did. I told myself I had to know the truth. Now…” She lifted her arms, dropped them in defeat, and sank down onto the edge of the bed. “Now, I’m not so sure I want to know anymore. Maybe it would just be better if I packed up and left.”

A knot twisted inside him. Panic trickled through his chest. He wouldn’t survive it if she walked out on him now. Losing her the first time had broken him. A second time would kill him.

He knelt in front of her, knowing if he touched her, he wasn’t going to be able to stop. But he needed that connection, needed to show her how much she meant to him. With shaking fingers, he clasped her hand in her lap. “You can’t leave now.”

Her eyes were full of anguish and remorse. The sadness he saw there tightened his chest to painful levels. He ached to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, to take away the pain for both of them.

“You can’t possibly tell me any of this is what you want,” she said quietly.

“I don’t want this mess, no. But in some insane way, it brought you back to us. I wouldn’t change it now for anything. What I want is to see you smile again, to figure out a way to make this easier for all of us. Walking away from me and the kids isn’t going to do that. It’ll just make things worse.”

Her eyes slid shut. “I know.”

Hearing the crack in her voice did him in. He could see himself pushing her back on the bed, tugging her clothes off, pressing inside her and driving the worry away. Wanted that so bad he could barely breathe.

Gently, she pulled her hand from his and ran it over her hair. “I’m just tired and not thinking clearly. I need some rest.”

He didn’t want to break the connection, but she’d already done it, was putting up those barriers again and blocking him out. Why couldn’t he read her? Why couldn’t he figure out what she was thinking? He’d always been able to do that with her. He didn’t want to admit she was different, but she was. So much about her was different from what he remembered.

Reluctantly, he pushed to his feet. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks.”

She smiled when he didn’t move. Not a seductive, made-for-him grin, but a forced, uncomfortable curl of her luscious lips that said it was way past time he left.

He pulled the bedroom door closed behind him, then gripped the handle for support. And alone in the empty hall, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the door. Everything he’d ever wanted was inside that room, and he didn’t know how to get it. Every move he made was the wrong one. Each step he took seemed to push her further away instead of draw her closer. Was he fooling himself into thinking he could ever win her back?

He sure the hell hoped not. Because he knew for certain he’d never survive losing her again.