Page 17 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 2
“Are you sure you want to come along? You don’t have to. You can wait here.”
“No, I’m going. She’s—” My throat catches. “She’s my mother. I should be there.”
Tyler links our fingers and rests our joined hands on his thigh as he backs out of our driveway. He holds my hand the entire way to the hospital, never letting go once.
Chapter 7 – Tyler
Ian is silent on the drive to the hospital, and I’m worried about him. He’s been on the edge since he received the blackmail note, and finding out his birth mother is still alive has been a shock. I think he assumed she was dead—probably of a drug overdose. But she’s not. And he’s struggling to process that information. I know he resents her for how she treated him when he was young, but I have to think there are some tender feelings in there as well, perhaps buried deep. Really deep.
I park in the emergency room parking lot, and we walk in together. Ian hangs back and lets me do all the talking at the information desk.
“We’re here to see Rhonda Mitchell,” I tell the woman seated at a computer. “We were just notified that she was brought in.”
The woman types something into the computer. “And you are?”
Ian steps up to the counter. “I’m her son.”
I certainly wasn’t expecting him to say that.
“She’s in room number five.” The woman presses a button, causing a large, automatic door to swing open. “Right through there. Take the first right and then turn left. Her room will be at the end of the hall.”
“Thank you,” Ian says as he leads the way.
I’m right behind him, wondering where this sudden confidence came from. This is a good thing, right?
We follow the signs to room five. There’s no door, but a privacy curtain is drawn. I hold the curtain aside so Ian can enter.
Rhonda is lying on a wheeled bed, a white blanket covering her up to her waist. Her left arm is hooked up to an IV. Her rightarm has been splinted, and I imagine it’s probably broken. A machine beside the bed is reading out all kinds of numbers on a screen—pulse, blood pressure, oxygen saturation. I quickly scan the readings. At least her vitals appear stable.
Ian stops in his tracks and stares at the battered woman lying on the bed. He takes a quick step back, and I catch his shoulders to steady him.
This is the first time he’s seen her, and unfortunately she looks like she’s in bad shape at the moment. There is a blood-stained bandage wrapped around her head, covering her forehead. Both of her eyes are bruised. Her top lip is split open and swollen. It looks like her nose might be broken—it’s so swollen it’s hard to tell.
Her eyes are closed, and it doesn’t seem she’s aware of our presence.
“Look at her,” Ian says, his voice so quiet I can barely hear him over the beeping of the machine.
I squeeze his shoulders. “This is my fault, Ian. I antagonized Sharp, and Rhonda walked into a landmine.” Damn it. I should have warned her not to return to her apartment until she was sure he was gone.
Ian turns to face me. “It’s not your fault.”
“Ian?” Rhonda’s voice is barely audible. When he turns to face her, tears are streaming down her cheeks, and her eyes are wide in disbelief. “Is that you?”
When Ian leans back against me, I slip one arm around his waist. He just stares at her.
“Rhonda, I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have warned you—”
“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” she says. “He was gone when I got home. I thought it was safe, but he came back later. Like an idiot, I didn’t set the chain lock. And he still had a key.”
Ian pulls away, and I release him as he takes a step forward. Then another one. “Is it really you?”
Rhonda nods. “Yes, honey. It’s me.” Her face crumples. “Your mom—or at least I used to be.” She shakes her head as she studies him. “I can’t believe you’re a grown man now.”
Ian stares at her, frozen.
I turn him to face me, and I’m not surprised to see his eyes are filled with tears. “Are you okay? We can leave—”
“No.” He turns back to Rhonda and takes a few steps closer until he’s at her bedside. “Why did you do it? Why did you lock me up, in a dark room, for hours on end?”
