Free Return to Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia Page A

dad’s in the hospital. He’s alive, but he’s really injured. I think you need to come home.”
    “I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.” Eve ended the call and put the phone against her forehead.
    In spite of all the time she’d spent building her new, placeholder life, she’d always known she’d eventually get a phone call like this: one that would drag her right back.

    Blake waited for Eve in the hospital parking lot. A sleek sports car caught his attention, and he wasn’t surprised when she stepped out of it. He hadn’t actually seen her in years. She looked hollow. He silently cursed Beckett for leaving her for so long.
    “How bad?” She was composed, but barely.
    “He took a real beating. The kind I used to see back in the day.” Blake didn’t need to say more. They were speaking of Beckett’s sins and Eve’s talents. Her steps faltered a bit.
    He reached out quickly in case she tripped. She shook off his questioning hand.
    “Okay, I understand. Come with me?”
    When they made eye contact, he knew she was coming undone. Blake took her hand in his as they entered the hospital. They were cousins. She’d helped him with his rehabilitation. And now he would be here for her.
    Blake explained who Eve was to the duty nurse and led her to her father’s hospital room. Blake stopped her before she stepped through the open door. “It’s rough,” he warned.
    She nodded and exhaled. As they walked around the curtain giving Dr. Ted Hartt a bit of privacy, Blake put one hand on Eve’s lower back. She swooned a bit before shoring herself up and proceeding. Blake had been with Ted since shortly after the phone call from the hospital, and he still wasn’t accustomed to the sight. Ted was covered in bruises, abrasions, and worst of all, burns. The doctor on his case had been surprised to find he had no broken bones.
    Eve gently touched her father’s unmarked hand, then his cheek. Blake watched as her jaw tensed. Her father opened his eyes, heavy with pain meds.
    “Who did this, Dad? What happened?” Eve’s jittery hands belied her cool, confident voice.
    “I was walking and…fell. I fell.” Ted closed his eyes again, a wave of medication taking him under.
    “Hello, Eve.” The doctor on call swept into the room. “Your father’s on a powerful sedative. His condition is stable.”
    Blake’s eyes widened for a moment before he realized the doctor knew Eve personally. Considering Dr. Hartt’s prominent place on the staff, this shouldn’t have surprised him.
    “Is this all superficial? The wounds?” Eve crossed her arms in front of her.
    “Yes, for the most part. He lost a lot of blood, and the burns will take a while to heal—he’ll have to be fastidious with his bandages. He was brought in unconscious.” The doctor scrolled through the chart on his iPad and nodded, as if approving his own facts.
    “Who brought him in?” She glanced at Blake, who shook his head.
    “Ah, your father arrived as a John Doe by ambulance. He was found on the side of Ritcher Street by the bar. When we were finally able to bring him around, he insisted he fell and that no police be called. And he didn’t want you called either, but one of our nurses had already called Blake so…”
    “Okay, thank you.” Eve nodded to the doctor, giving him his cue to leave.
    The minute the door closed behind him, Eve put her hands on her head and squatted, quiet sobbing noises escaping her. Blake came around the bed and put his arm around her.
    “I’m sorry.” He tried to pat a comforting pattern on her back.
    Eve wiped her tears and stood, her moment of humanness over. “Listen, go home. Tell Cole to keep his head up. If either of you see anything out of the ordinary, call me immediately. You watch the girls and the baby like hawks. Until I know what’s happening, I need you both to check in three times a day. Make sure someone knows where you’re going at all times.”
    Blake nodded. “This about Beck?”
    Eve leveled