Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

Her mother was out of the office on a speaking engagement in Springfield. That didn’t leave them a ton of options. “What about my father?”

“Overbooked. Even more so.”

Jordan nodded and shot a glance at Luke. He was mouthing something she couldn’t make out and rhythmically hitting the back of his head against the wall where it made a quiet little thud each time. Fantastic. And not at all intimidating. “Let me talk to my brother.”

Jordan waited outside of exam three for Mikey to finish up with his sprained ankle. When he emerged, he bopped her on the head with his clipboard in typical Mikey fashion. “What’s up, doc?”

She frowned at him. “Should be my line, no?”

“Semantics. Everything okay?”

“Um, bit of a situation, actually. Luke Treyhorn is drunk in reception. I think he banged up his hand somehow. He’s demanding to see you.”

Mikey shook his head in annoyance. “So what else is new? He’s in here once a week, angling for pain meds and I’m not going to do it this time.”

“Can you at least talk to him? The waiting room is full and he’s pissed, Mike. We need to get him out of here.”

He sighed. “Fine. Send him to exam one. I’ll be right in.”

“Got it. Thank you. You’re a rock star.

“That’s Dr. Rock Star.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jordan checked her watch. Only three more charts to get through and she was out. Alyssa seemed to have everything under control and it was a weight off her shoulders. She had the afternoon.

Part of her wanted to casually swing by the bakeshop to see Molly. Lay eyes on her, make everything feel okay again, because it was eating away at her the way they’d left it. But another part of her, the self-preserving part, thought it was smarter to hit the gym, do a little kickboxing, and work off some of the stress externally. On her way there, she’d call her neighbor, Martin, and check on her cat. Let him know she’d be home by the end of the week.

She was on the very last chart when the shouting erupted from down the hall followed by a loud metal crash. She exchanged a look with Alyssa and they took off down the hall.

When she threw open the door to exam one, Luke had Mikey up against the wall, his forearm across her brother’s neck. “You think you’re better than me, you piece of shit? You think you can lord over all the rest of us because you have a fucking pad in your hand? Huh?” Luke’s voice was scratchy and out of control.

Her eyes shot to Mikey, who was red and gasping for air and Jordan’s stomach dropped at the sight. She reacted instinctively and charged Luke, tugging with everything she had on his forearm, but it was like pulling on a fixed slab of asphalt. Unmoving. She heard Alyssa quietly talking into the phone. “We need the police at 282 Comburg Castle Way. The clinic, that’s right. We have an assault in progress.”

Luke pulled Mikey forward and then slammed him into the wall again hard. A nearby painting fell to the ground and glass shattered near their feet. Jordan changed her strategy and grabbed Luke by the back of the hair, effectively pulling his neck back. His eyes locked on hers and the fury there sent a chill through her. She saw his elbow as it flew through the air and then darkness.

Nothing.

Everything was quiet.

Chapter Nineteen

Molly hung up the phone and covered her mouth and the smile that tugged. Her strategy session with Grant had gone better than expected. He’d received the signed paperwork cementing their partnership, and had taken a successful meeting with a very interested distributor.

She couldn’t believe this was really happening.

Things were looking up, indeed.

And she knew instantly who she wanted to share the news with, but then she sighed as she remembered the reality of why that wasn’t so easy. The fight she’d had with Jordan had come out of nowhere. And its effects left her shaken, as did Jordan’s assertions that Molly didn’t seem capable of living a life without Cassie in the forefront.

But the thing that got to her most of all was the underlying fear that Jordan might be right. As she’d pulled milk from the refrigerator that morning, she’d come face-to-face with the photos in question, the ones that had inserted themselves into the most wonderful evening she could remember having in a long time. And as strong as the feelings she had for Jordan were becoming, she still couldn’t bring herself to take the photos down. It was too final. Too concrete an action.

Instead, she’d stared at them as doubt circled.

But somehow, in the wake of her fantastic mood, the issues they needed to sort through could wait. She missed Jordan. Besides that, she knew Jordan would be thrilled for her news despite their fight, because that’s the kind of person she was. She grabbed her keys and headed out with purpose in her stride.

As Molly approached the clinic, she saw the lights. Two cop cars and an ambulance. She cringed at the sickening red and blue swirl that forever haunted her memory, a reminder of her darkest day. But why were they here? It didn’t make sense to her less than rational mindset. And then the fear crept up on her. Her heart pounded out of her chest and she had trouble inhaling, almost as if she’d forgotten how.

It was the beginning of a panic attack.

She gripped the steering wheel and began to talk herself down. The clinic had minor emergencies all the time. Patients that needed to be transported quickly to a hospital or the occasional case that was too big to be handled locally. It wasn’t that unheard of. Probably it was something along those lines.

At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

She parked her car across the street as a police cruiser blocked the entrance to the clinic’s parking lot. She was moving quickly because, well, she had to. There was a small grouping of curious onlookers standing along the perimeter the police had set up.

“Does anyone know what happened?” she asked the group in general.

Jack Asher, the mechanic from the body shop across the street, looked her way. “Jordan Tuscana is hurt and unconscious inside. Not sure how yet. At least, that’s what the rookie cop said.”

Her feet were moving before her mind could fully process what she just heard. Oh God, no. Her body went numb with dread. A million crazy and terrifying thoughts streaked across her mind in rapid succession and she found herself scarcely able to feel her legs but she forced them forward anyway.

Crazy Luke Treyhorn was in handcuffs in the waiting room when she entered the clinic. She’d never liked the guy. He was the type who would blatantly leer at a woman on the sidewalk, make inappropriate comments, and then high five his buddies about it in plain sight of everyone. And that was when he was sober. “Where is she?” she managed to ask the young cop standing next to Luke. Travis something was his name. He came into the bakeshop once in awhile.

“Ms. O’Brien, you can’t be in here right now. I’ll need you to wait outside.”

But it wasn’t like she could exactly listen to him.

She was already halfway down the hallway, glancing into exam rooms with Travis-something calling after her when she found them. Two police officers were taking a statement from a young woman Molly didn’t recognize. Her father-in-law seemed to be straightening up the disheveled room, and Mikey was leaning over someone on the exam room table.

“Where is she? Is she okay? Mikey!”

He turned at the sound of her voice, revealing Jordan lying on the exam room table peering at her from around Mikey’s body. “Hey, it’s Molly,” she murmured.

Relief. It was a wonderful thing. She took a moment to breathe because she’d forgotten to on the way in. She’d been terrified, more so than she could wrap her mind around in the moment. And as she’d made that alarming trek from the parking lot into the hospital, something had come loose within her. But she would deal with that later. The important thing was that Jordan was conscious and sitting right here in front of her.