“What the fuck are you doing standing here? You’re the cop. Why the hell aren’t you out there,” I flung my arm out in the direction of the exit, “tracking the motherfucker down?”

Hennessy crossed both arms over his chest. “Was waiting for you, asshole. Besides, I was keeping an eye on Ms. Frost. Figured I’d offer her a ride home when she was ready to leave.”

Fucking white knight complex. Did every cop have one? Doesn’t matter.

“Where’s this private waiting room?”

Hennessy nodded toward the elevator bay about fifteen feet away. “Eighth floor.”

Before I registered moving, I was jabbing a finger at the call button and the doors opened. Hennessy followed me inside and pressed ‘8.’

“If you’d told me Vanessa Frost was the blonde you’d carried out of your club last night, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

My head jerked up, and I stared at him. “I didn’t say jack shit, man. So don’t go making things up.”

“Whatever you say, Con. But we both know the truth. I’m a fucking detective. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

The elevator came to a halt. As the doors slid open, I stomped out, swinging my head from side to side, seeing nothing but long, white-walled hallways.

“Which way?”

“Left.”

Hennessy shoved past me and led the way to a door about fifteen yards from the elevator. Pushing it open, I found Vanessa and Ms. Vincent inside. They were seated side by side, hands joined, heads bowed. I caught “pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

The Hail Mary was never a good sign. Nor were the blue scrubs Vanessa was wearing. What the fuck happened to her clothes?

They opened their mouths to start reciting it again, and I realized they must be saying the rosary that Ms. Vincent had dangling from her right hand. The prayer trailed off as they caught sight of Hennessy and me.

Ms. Vincent stood first, releasing Vanessa’s hand and hurrying toward me. I caught her wiry body, wrapping my arms around her.

She instantly burst into sobs. “My boy. My baby boy.”

“Shhh,” I tried to soothe her, but my attempt had no effect. Her sobs grew louder until her whole body was shaking and spasming. “Shhh. You’ve got to be strong for Trey. He’s a tough kid. He’s going to pull through.”

I knew nothing about his condition, but I had to believe it or I might break down into sobs just as pitiful as hers.

Vanessa stood and crossed the room. She laid a comforting hand on Ms. Vincent’s shoulder.

I met her eyes. The normally vivid blue was dull and lifeless. Haunted. She looked hollowed out.

Neither Vanessa’s nor my comfort could temper Ms. Vincent’s hysterics. A nurse bustled down the hallway and drew her out of my arms. “Let’s get you something to help you calm down, ma’am.”

She led Ms. Vincent away, leaving me, Vanessa, and Hennessy alone in the small, plush waiting room.

The pale yellow walls were set off by white trim, and it boasted two cream leather sofas, a cream leather recliner, and a cherry coffee table. A flat screen TV was mounted in the corner, and coffee service was set up on a matching cherry sideboard.

Something about the fancy waiting room made Vanessa seem even more vulnerable dressed in those thin, blue hospital scrubs.

“Get the fuck out, Hennessy,” I barked.

Vanessa’s eyes flashed, as though coming back from the wasteland she’d temporarily retreated to. Her expression said, Shut up, Con. But I was beyond caring what Hennessy knew or didn’t know. Besides, the smart fuck was already convinced that he knew everything. So what did it matter? He didn’t have any reason to share what he knew with anyone, and I’d make certain he didn’t develop a reason any time soon.

“I’m not going far,” he replied.

“I don’t fucking care where you go, so long as it ain’t here.”

I didn’t bother to glance in his direction as he slipped out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Vanessa stood only a few feet away from me. It was a few feet too far, but I stood rooted, needing the temporary distance to see with my own two eyes that she was okay.

“He shot at you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Her beautiful blue eyes glistened, and a tear spilled onto her cheek.

Screw the distance. I reached out and wrapped both arms around her, hauling her against me. “Scared the fuck out of me, baby.”

Her tears fell harder and faster, until a patch of my T-shirt was soaked through. When she didn’t cling to me, only stood there crying, I whispered, “Hold on to me, princess. I need to know you’re with me.”

A moment passed before her arms snaked around my waist, squeezing me. This time, it was her body that shook with the force of the sobs.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

Against my T-shirt, her words were garbled.

“Slow down, honey. Just slow down.” I rubbed a hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her more successfully than I had Ms. Vincent. Finally, her words came out more clearly.

“He shot him. He shot Trey. Trey…he…he was trying to help me. And that guy shot him.” Any other words she might have spoken were lost to the sobs once more.

Jesus Christ. I should’ve gotten the details.

“My fault. It’s my fault.”

Fuck.

“It ain’t your fault, princess. You didn’t pull the trigger. So no way in hell is this your fault.”

Her lungs heaved, and for the first time, I didn’t particularly care that her breasts were crushed against my chest. Not beyond the fact that both of our hearts, which were breaking, were pressed together.

“It’s my fault.”

I pulled back, looking down into her red-rimmed eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been there.”

“And neither should he.”

“But—”

“No.” I cupped her cheeks in both hands, tilted her face up to mine. “There’s nothing you can do or say now that’s going to change what happened. All you can do is what you were doing with Trey’s mama—pray.”

We spent hours in that yellow room. The nurse brought Ms. Vincent back after calming her down, and I sat in the middle of a sofa, one arm wrapped around Vanessa and the other wrapped around Ms. Vincent.