Page 43 of Aviator
I wake to one of Kenna’s hands brushing through my hair. My eyes open, and I see her face smiling down at me.
“You look like a little boy when you sleep.”
I clear my throat and sit up. “I do not.”
“Yeah, you do. All sweet and innocent. It’s shocking.”
“How are you feeling?”
She smiles softly. “Better, but they just gave me another dose of the good stuff and said we could get out of here today if we feel up to it.”
I brighten at the thought. “Hell yes. I need to get home and check on Gramps. He must be worried sick.”
“I talked to him while you were asleep.”
“You did?”
“I figured you’d be worried. He says he’s glad you’re okay. And that Sunny misses you.” She giggles, and hearing it feels like being soaked in sunshine. “I don’t think you’re going to be getting rid of that cat any time soon.”
“Like we don’t have enough animals already. Were you able to get ahold of Riley?”
Her smile dims. “No, not yet. I even tried calling my dad, but no luck. I don’t know what the heck they’re doing, but I’m going to kill them when I do get ahold of them.”
“I’m sure they’re fine. Let me check with the nurse to see when we can get out of here and maybe get us a ride back to my place.”
“Dean,” she starts.
I cut her a look. “Don’t bother arguing. You’re not staying in a hotel while that guy is still out there. We have a spare room.” The “if you want it” is left unsaid because I don’t want to push her.
Much.
After a quick conversation with the nurse and doctor, I manage to get us released within the hour. A rental takes us back up to the cabin, and all the tension inside me evaporates the moment we step foot inside. Gramps is in his customary chair by the fire with that damn cat curled up in his lap. Margaret sits across from him with an anxious expression tightening her features.
“About damn time you got home,” Gramps says by way of greeting.
“Good to see you too, old man,” I say and bend down to give him a tight hug. The scent of tobacco and coffee fills my nose. “Good to be home.”
“Come here, missy. Let me take a look at you,” Gramps says to Kenna.
“Hello, Mr. Pascal. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” Kenna sits on the ottoman in front of him with one of his hands in hers. “I hope we didn’t cause you too much worry.”
“Don’t fret about that, sweetheart. I’m just glad you’re both back safely.” He eyes her bandaged shoulder and my cast. “Relatively.”
“We’re going to hit the hay, Gramps. We’re both exhausted. Thanks for being here, Margaret. I appreciate your help so much.”
She stands and wraps me in a quick hug. “Of course.” I don’t know if it’s relief or lack of sleep, but her smile trembles. Then she’s out the door, and all I can think about is dragging Kenna to bed and sleeping—for now.
“I’m going to stay up with Sunny for a little while longer. I’ll see you in the morning, son.”
I kiss him on the head. “Night, old man.”
Kenna gives a little wave, but she’s damn near swaying on her feet, too.
“Good night, you two.”
I guide Kenna down the hall, and she pauses by the spare room. “I guess this is me,” she says shyly.
“The hell it is.” She makes a strangled sound of surprise as I tug her to my room.
