The Forgotten One (The Heirs #2)

Chapter Twenty

“I don’t see an obvious fracture.” The clinic doctor held a laptop in one hand and moved the image of Sarah’s skull around the screen with the other.

“I told you,” Sarah gave Max some sass.

He kinda liked that about her.

“What do you mean by obvious ?” Max asked the doctor.

She pointed to something on the screen. “There is a bit of a shadow here that might indicate a slight orbital floor fracture, but we’d need a CT to really see.”

Max watched Sarah’s shoulders slump. “Then it is broken?”

“I can’t completely rule it out without the other image. However, in my experience, when we have to dig deep to find a break, the break is so small that the treatment doesn’t change.” She closed the laptop and set it to the side.

After washing her hands, the doctor stood in front of Sarah, had her take off her glasses, and gently pressed on the swollen section of her eye.

“Does that hurt?”

“All of it hurts.”

The doctor stood back, tilted her head. “My advice would be the same regardless. Take it easy. Avoid contact sports ... and pickleball can be a contact sport.”

“I don’t play pickleball.”

She smiled. “If you feel any kind of cold coming on, make sure you’re taking decongestants, and avoid blowing your nose. Sneezing and blowing your nose put pressure in this area.”

Sarah put her glasses back on. “I can do that.”

“Follow up with your ophthalmologist. I assume you have one.”

“I do.”

“I’m sending you home with some pain medication. Don’t drive when you’re taking it.”

Max looked at the doctor. “If Sarah was your sister, would you recommend a CT?”

“Not at all. Now, because this is workers’ comp, they may request a CT if you’re looking for extended time off.”

Sarah scoffed. “I’ll be back to work on Monday, I’m sure.”

Max frowned.

The doctor turned to Max. “If she were my sister, I’d tell her to take the doctor’s advice and take a few days for herself.”

Max caught Sarah’s gaze and held it.

“What?” she asked.

The doctor picked up her computer. “Wait here. A nurse will be in to give you your prescription and discharge paperwork.”

After the doctor left, Max folded his arms over his chest and waited.

“What?” Sarah asked again. “You keep staring at me.”

“She suggested you rest.”

Sarah slid off the exam table. “She doesn’t pay my bills.”

“Everyone has sick time, and employers know better than to mandate you show up for work when they’re the reason you’re out in the first place.”

“Why is this so important to you?”

Good question.

Max stopped the staring contest and shrugged. “You’re right.”

Sarah reached out, placed her hand on his arm. “You’re mad.”

“Annoyed.”

“Why?”

“I learned a long time ago not to try and help people who won’t help themselves.”

“I’m a reporter, Max. It isn’t like I train racehorses for a living. I interview and write. It’s not the most physical job.”

“And yet you broke your face doing it.” Max felt his irritation grow.

“Might have ... slight ... could be. It sounded to me like there was a bigger chance of this not being fractured than there was that it is.” Sarah let her hand slip away. “Wait ... is this guilt?”

“Guilt? What guilt? I didn’t slam you upside the head with a camera.”

“But I wouldn’t have been there if not for you.”

Max snapped his lips shut.

Fuck.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You feel responsible for this.”

He blinked . . . twice.

“I need to tell the driver to pull the car around.”

Max walked out of the examination room and straight to the lobby.

Alex had called ahead to the clinic, asking if Sarah and Max could be seen right away to avoid any congestion of reporters at their door. When they were given the all clear, one of the security guards took them in the black SUV they’d driven around in the day before.

A few cars followed them but didn’t get a chance to impede their entrance to the clinic.

In the lobby, Max could see that they wouldn’t have the same luck leaving.

The security guard saw Max, tucked his phone in his pocket, and walked over.

“We’ll be out of here in a few minutes.” Max nodded toward the door. “How bad is it?”

“I already spoke with the reception staff. There’s an employee entrance in the back we can leave from. There are a few reporters out there but not as many.”

Max looked at his watch. “Give us five minutes.”

“You got it.”

Feeling a little more balanced, Max walked back into the clinic and to Sarah’s room.

The door was open, and a nurse was talking to her.

He waited in the hall until the nurse left.

“We’re leaving out the back.”

Sarah looked like she wanted to say something ... but didn’t.

Good.

As soon as the driver parked, Max put his arm around her and led her toward the car.

“Mr. Smith. How did you learn about your father?”

“Max. What was your relationship like with Aaron Stone?”

The driver held the back door open.

Max put a hand over Sarah’s head so she didn’t hit it climbing in.

Behind him, a reporter inched closer.

Max turned, put his hand in the air.

He knew the look he delivered was one to put a man six feet under.

Max climbed in beside Sarah and closed the door.

The driver managed to get them away from the clinic without running anyone over, which Max wasn’t sure he’d be able to do.

Once they were on the main road, the driver asked them where they wanted to go.

Max looked at Sarah to see what she wanted.

“I think I need to get home.”

He said nothing and nodded.

Getting some distance felt like the right move.

They rode in silence after Sarah gave the driver her address. Until her phone rang.

She dug into her purse, glanced at the screen. “It’s my dad. I should answer it.”

Max shrugged.

“Hey, Dad.”

Sarah’s dad spoke loud enough that Max could hear everything he said.

“You’re on the wrong end of the microphone, baby girl. What happened? Who hit you?”

“No one hit me, Dad.”

“Well, you didn’t get that black eye riding a bike!”

Max looked out the window and acted like he didn’t hear a thing.

“It was a camera. Not a fist,” she said.

“Someone hit you with a camera?” He sounded even more outraged.

“It was an accident. And I’m fine.”

“Then why are you at the doctor?”

“You saw me at the clinic?” she asked.

“I didn’t see you—I heard a reporter on the radio say your name. Said you were hit last night and were seen walking into a clinic an hour ago.”

Sarah sighed. “I’ll explain it all later. I’m on my way home.”

“You better not be driving. Where are you? I’ll come and get you.”

Max held back a smile.

“I’m not driving. I’m ten minutes away from my front door ...”

“What did the doctor say?”

At least Max now knew why Sarah asked so many questions. It ran in the family.

“That I’m fine,” Sarah said, her voice rising.

“Not exactly what the doctor said,” Max said louder than he needed to.

“Who is that?”

Sarah glared at Max.

“What? Your dad wants to know if you’re okay. Don’t lie to the man.”

“I’m not lying,” she argued.

“You’re not telling the whole truth,” Max stirred the pot.

“Sarah?”

She turned her attention back to the phone. “The doctor said to take it easy.”

Max sat back and kept his mouth closed.

“I’m not so old that you can’t level with me, baby girl.”

Sarah glared at Max, pointed her finger at him.

Funny, Max didn’t feel guilty in the least. If he couldn’t get Sarah to take it easy, maybe her father could.

“There was a tiny, itty-bitty shadow on the X-ray that the doctor thought might be a little fracture.”

“Someone broke your nose?”

Sarah rolled her head back. “My eye.”

“Someone broke your eye?”

The daggers coming from Sarah hit Max straight in the chest.

All he did was smile.

For the final ten minutes to Sarah’s apartment complex, Max listened to her assure her father that she wasn’t dying and that Teri could help her ... and that, yes, she promised to take it easy ... and call if anything changed. Then it was call every day to keep him updated.

It was all very amusing.

And when she ended the call, Max could see the exhaustion in her face.

He almost felt bad.

Almost.

“You did that on purpose,” she accused.

“Very perceptive of you.”

“He worries.”

Max felt his grin fade.

The driver stopped out front of her complex.

“Having a parent who cares enough to worry about you is a privilege.” Max hadn’t really meant to say that out loud and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Max opened the door and walked around the other side of the car to walk Sarah to her front door.

The street was void of news vans and reporters, which was a huge relief.

They walked silently into the complex and up the stairs to the second floor.

Outside her front door, she turned to him. “This is me.”

He made no move to hold her or acknowledge the intimacy they’d experienced with each other. Max’s nerves were too jumpy, and he’d already exposed a few things that he wasn’t comfortable with.

Sarah fished her keys out of her giant purse and paused. “I guess I’ll see you at the press conference on Monday.”

Max swallowed. So much for taking it easy. “I won’t be there,” he told her.

“But Alex said there was a press conference scheduled.”

“There is. For them. I’m not answering anyone’s questions. And the only reporter I’m talking to is you.”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised. “Where will you be when they’re talking to the press?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Max couldn’t help but look at the bruising on Sarah’s face. He did feel guilty. And pissed that he hadn’t decked the guy who hit her.

“Are you going back to Palmdale?”

“Eventually.”

“Then you’re staying at the mansion.”

He shook his head. “No, Sarah. What I’m going to do is search for my mother. I want to find the woman who left me to rot in the system while accepting the child support that Aaron Stone apparently sent her every month.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped.

“Max ...,” she said his name on a sigh.

“That’s not on the record. If she knows I’m looking for her, she might run.”

Her black eye misted over. “I won’t say a thing.”

Max nodded, leaned in, kissed Sarah’s forehead, turned, and walked away.