Page 119 of A Forever Love

Already feeling uncomfortable at being privy to something that isn’t meant for my ears, I tap on the door and walk in. “It was your dad.”

Merida’s smile fades in an instant, and anxiety takes over her features.

I smile softly at her. “They’re on their way.”

* * *

Forty minutes later, Merida’s room bustles with activity. Keith and Clem hover over everything, never leaving their daughter’s side. The chairs, once occupied by Brandon and me, are now taken by Uncle Gavin and Lukas. Brandon has already left for the hotel, getting ready for his flight back to Cherrywood with Kristy, while I stand near the door, watching.

“You scared us, kiddo.” Lukas pats Merida’s feet from above the thin blanket covering her. “Where did you learn to be so brave?”

Her reply is a grin. “Only from the best, Uncle Luke. Didn’t you take a bullet for me a few years back?”

“Stop being so perfect, Merry Belle.” Keith tucks one of her red curls behind her ear. “You don’t know how much anxiety I’ve had since I heard the news. Your dad isn’t that strong, kid.”

Mere smiles, resting her head against his chest. “You are the strongest person I know, Dad.”

“Not when it comes to my girls. So, please for the love of God, promise me you’ll never do such a thing again. Don’t just think about others but your safety too, hon.”

“You need to heed everything Keith just said, Mere,” Clem chimes in. “I got three white hairs worrying about you.”

“They are not from today, Clementine.” Uncle Gavin shrugs. “You’ve had those ‘three’ white hairs for forever.”

“Get out of here, King. I’m not old.” Clem lunges, almost ready to throttle the man, but Keith pulls her back.

“You’re not old, okay, and please don’t go hitting Gavin, especially today. I don’t want you to get injured too. I’ve had enough of a scare for one day.”

My eyes fly to Merida, who smiles at me, watching the attention and affection around her.

“I agree with Keith. We’ve had enough violence, so Clem, please unleash your wrath on my uncle when we’re back in St. Peppers.” I finally leave my spot by the door.

“We can really take Mere home tomorrow? Is it safe?” Clem asks as soon as I bring up St. Peppers.

“Yes. I’ve talked to the doctor and, of course, Mere has to consult and check up regularly with a local doc back home, along with taking precautions with the wound and working with a physiotherapist. But otherwise, she’s good to go home.”

“I’d like to check with her doctor and surgeon too.” Keith straightens, and I’m not surprised by his words.

I check the time on my Rolex. “I suspected you would. You have an appointment in about an hour.”

* * *

It’s almost dark by the time Uncle Gavin, Lukas, and I return to the hotel. Keith and Clem are at the hospital with Merida, and I can’t go back to the same room where I received her morning call. Her panicked voice still echoes in my ears, even after the adrenaline has worn off. The breakfast area, where Merida was shot fourteen hours ago, is closed. But as I sit at the bar, I can’t help but keep staring to my right at the locked green doors, mocking me and once again reminding me of my own incompetence.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Uncle Gavin says, sinking onto the stool beside me and inadvertently obstructing my view of the doors that had been haunting my thoughts. “Is that where it happened?” He nods subtly toward the room, acknowledging the source of my fixation.

My response is a low hum.

“I know it sucks.”

“Yet you’re here to tell me I shouldn’t feel guilty.” My teeth grind. I don’t need another lecture about how I shouldn’t be drowning in guilt and should be grateful she’s alive.

“Why on earth would I say that nonsense?” His eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “You messed up. She was shot while you were sleeping. In all these months, you couldn’t figure out Tony was sick? If Mere had been a split second slower, the bullet would have hit her or Charlie’s head, and we’d be making different sort of arrangements right now.”

My stomach drops just imagining the picture he painted. “Can you try sounding a bit less morbid?”

“I don’t sugarcoat, kid. Never have. You were damn lucky that Mere has exceptional instincts. A regular person might have frozen or just accepted their fate.”

The whiskey burns in my empty stomach, and I realize I haven’t eaten all day. As if reading my mind, Uncle Gavin signals the waiter for some appetizers.

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