She was going to have to put her foot down. “I’m not going to the hospital. Understand?”
He took her to the hospital. All of her protests were completely ignored, and that didn’t surprise her. He never listened to her. She told him just that as the nurse was pushing her into a wheelchair in the emergency room. She was poked and prodded, x-rayed and scanned, and finally declared perfectly fit. The physician in charge lingered by the side of her bed after giving her the good news.
“Was there something more?” Allison asked. “Have you thought of yet another test you’d like to run?”
He smiled. “No, you’re good to go. I was just thinking . . .”
“Yes?” she asked, wondering why he was hesitating.
“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” He handed her a card with his cell phone number on it. “Call me. Anytime.”
She didn’t know what to say. She took the card, thanked him for taking care of her, and decided to get Liam out of there as quickly as possible. He was staring at the doctor and looking quite incredulous.
“I’m standing right here,” he announced with a good deal of irritation as the doctor walked out of the cubicle.
“He saw you, Agent Scott,” Allison said.
Liam sat on the side of the bed and draped his arm around her to pull her toward him. Had the doctor still been there, he would have kissed Allison, just to let him know she wasn’t available.
He guessed he should let Allison know it first. “We need to talk,” he said.
“When did you get back from Berlin?” she asked at the very same time.
He didn’t answer, because the nurse came to discharge her at that moment. Allison insisted that he take her to the office. She knew Phillips would have a hundred questions and she wanted to get the interrogation over as quickly as possible. She waited until they were alone and sitting in Phillips’s office to ask Liam what he had wanted to talk about.
“You and me,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, we aren’t. There is no you and me. We’re in a nonrelationship, and that’s over.”
He leaned against the desk and smiled. “If we’re in a nonrelationship, how can it be over?”
He would use logic. She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just is.” She sat down. “I’m through talking about this.”
“I’m not.”
Phillips entered the office and interrupted. She braced herself for the inquisition.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She was shocked by the sympathy she heard in his voice. She didn’t want him to be kind to her. She liked him just the way he usually was. Maybe she had hit her head after all, because she wasn’t making much sense. She started to answer that she was perfectly fine, but when she looked down, she noticed her hands were shaking almost violently. “It’s been quite an evening,” she began.
“Of course it has,” Phillips agreed. “Flying down that hill—”
“I wish that was all that happened to me today,” she sighed.
Liam stood and with a worried frown asked, “What else?”
“When I got home from the gym, the doorman was waiting with a police officer. Someone had broken into my apartment.”
Liam’s jaw clenched. Not a good sign, she decided. She didn’t have to guess why he was out of sorts.
“And you’re just now mentioning this?” he asked
She didn’t care for his condescending tone. “Yes, I’m just now mentioning this.”
“Do you think the home invasion and your road incident might be related?” Phillips asked. Like Liam’s, his voice was also strained.
Allison was getting the feeling both of them wanted to yell at her. She tried to justify her actions. “Yes, I know I’m supposed to call you, Agent Phillips, if there are ever any problems, but nothing was taken from my apartment, and there was already a policeman taking a report, so I didn’t think it was necessary to bother you. I’m pretty certain I know who it was. My aunt and uncle.”
Her new announcement led to another round of questions, and by the time Liam finished with her, she felt like an imbecile. Just because Stamos guessed her aunt and uncle were responsible didn’t make it so.
Liam rubbed his brow as if trying to wipe away a headache. “So you’ve figured it was your aunt and uncle at your apartment.”
Feeling backed into a corner, she said, “Yes.”
He nodded, then asked, “What reason do you have for being run off the road?”
“I was thinking it was probably road rage.”
“Road rage.” Phillips repeated her words and dropped into his chair. “What could you have done to make the driver come after you like that?” Frowning, he asked, “Were you texting?”
Was he blaming her? “Of course I was texting,” she countered. “I always text while I drive. Oh, and I was putting on lipstick and mascara, so I had to adjust the mirror. . . .” She couldn’t think of anything else outrageous to tell him.
Phillips didn’t look amused. “This is a serious matter.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
“I’ve taken care of the police report on your car,” he said then.
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t road rage,” Liam said.
She stared at him for several seconds, letting the events of the last few hours sink in. “They’re related, aren’t they? But how? Do you have any theories?”
“Several, as a matter of fact,” he said. “We’ll find who did this,” he added with a granite voice. “And when we do . . .”
Afraid he would say something crazy in front of Phillips, she stood and said, “We’re finished, right? Do you want me to work or go home? I should go home.” And before Phillips could answer, she said, “I’m going home. I need to go home.”
She was beginning to feel a delayed reaction to the effects of her near miss. Her hands were still shaking so much she knew she wouldn’t be able to type, and she felt weak. Liam saw how pale she’d become and grabbed her before she could fall.
She was walking out the door with Liam holding her arm when she turned back. “Where’s my laptop?”
“The techs have it,” Phillips said. “It was pretty banged up. They’ll see what they can salvage.”
“Thank you,” she said.
—
The first she noticed that Liam had her backpack and phone was when he opened her apartment door for her. He must have gotten them out of the car, she thought, or maybe she’d held them when he pulled her through the window. She was too tired to figure it out now.
Liam led her to her bed and pulled the covers back. Within seconds of laying her head on the pillow, she was sound asleep.
When she opened her eyes again, she looked at her alarm clock and saw that several hours had passed. She could hear Liam’s voice in the living room. He was on the phone. He was always on his phone, it seemed. His job didn’t let up. She couldn’t tell whom he was talking to, but she caught snippets of his conversation. She heard part of a question about an underground cell and another about an informer. He kept his voice low and she couldn’t make out anything else. The minute he ended one call, another came in. She honestly didn’t know how he could keep up with it all. She knew he was in a high-pressure job, one that was very important, but she also knew it was impossible for one person to handle so many responsibilities. Even Liam. He sounded tired. No matter how much stamina he had, he would eventually crash. Allison got scared thinking about it.
She got out of bed and stood in the doorway until he noticed her. “Liam, when did you get back from Berlin?” she asked.
His phone rang and he quickly answered it with “I’ll be right there” before giving her his full attention. She could see the weariness in his eyes.
“Allison, I’m afraid our talk is going to have to wait,” he said.
“Answer my question. When did you get back from Berlin?”
“A week ago.”
TWENTY-FIVE
A week? He’d been back in Boston seven days and nights and hadn’t bothered to call her? What was the matter with him? Didn’t he have any idea how much he was hurting her? No, of course not. How could he know? He was an idiot.