was probably still sleeping, he told himself, refusing to succumb to the feeling of dread that had his heart suddenly racing. Four hours was a long time for anyone, unless they were desperately ill, to sleep.
“Do you have a key?” he asked Jeffrey.
Jeffrey placed the weights and the T-shirt on the porch floor so that he could rummage through his pants pockets. He pulled out a crumpled pack of gum, a battered toy soldier, the yo-yo and three marbles before finally producing a key. When he slid it into the lock, the door swung silently inward.
“Why don’t you run upstairs, put your things away and wash up, while I go check on your mom.” Carlo needed to get the boy safely out of the way, just in case something really was wrong with Samantha. “It’s important that you wash your hands and arms thoroughly, because you might have picked up some germs at the gym. Since your mom’s sick, you want to be careful not to pass them on to her.”
His reluctance obvious, Jeffrey slowly mounted the stairs. When he reached the top, Carlo headed for the den.
It was hard to see in the dimness, but he definitely glimpsed the outline of her body beneath the blanket. It looked as though she hadn’t moved since he’d left with Jeffrey.
He hated to wake her. But he couldn’t leave until he knew she was alert and able to care for her son.
“Samantha?” he said, switching on a light. She didn’t answer, and he called louder. “Samantha?”
“What?” She sounded groggy as she opened her eyes and blinked against the brightness. “Oh, you’re back. Did you have a nice time?”
“I think it went well.” Except for Jeffrey’s startling revelation about his plans for vengeance. “How are you feeling?”
“Thirsty.”
He poured her a glass of water and helped her to a sitting position. “Better?” he asked, when she’d drained every drop.
“Much. What time is it?”
“Five o’clock.”
Her eyes widened. For a woman who’d slept the afternoon away, she looked anything but rested.
“Already? It feels like I just closed my eyes.”
“That’s because you’re sick.” A lot sicker than she wanted to let on. Leaning down, he rested his hand against her forehead. While still not into dangerous territory, her temperature had definitely risen.
He knew then what he had to do. It was the last thing he wanted. But he would be less than heartless to leave an eight-year-old and a defenseless sick woman to their own devices.
“That settles it,” he said. “I’m staying.”
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