Page 24

Dr. Clarke nodded. He might have only been working with her mom for a year, but he was well educated on her mother's history. "She will have to work through all those emotions again. But she can do it."
"Do you really think so?"
"I'm not saying it will be overnight, but I will do everything I can to help her get back to herself. Now, go home. Get some rest. You must be exhausted."
"I am, but there's so much to do, and no one to do it but me."
"You have to take care of yourself, too."
"I don't think that's on the to-do list."
"Put it there. It's important."
"Thanks."
He walked her to the door, and with one last look at her mom, who was now sleeping peacefully, she left the room.
Feeling completely drained, she took the elevator downstairs. She couldn't believe it was four. The day was flying by, and she'd accomplished very little.
When she got to the lobby, she was surprised and dismayed to find Flynn MacKenzie waiting for her. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on your mom. How is she?"
"Terrible," she said, feeling way too many emotions. "When she realized that I'd brought her here to be admitted, she went wild. She pleaded with me to take her home. She called me a traitor. They had to restrain her and then sedate her. It was awful."
"That must have been rough," he said, a somber gleam in his blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Callie. You might not believe that, but I am. I had to get my mom through some rough times. It wasn't as bad as what you're dealing with, but I know what it feels like to watch your parent struggle, to be strong for them, when you feel weak as hell."
His understanding was the last straw. Tears gathered in her eyes. She had been feeling so alone, but Flynn was here. And he was stable, strong. He was also absolutely the last person she should lean on, the last person she should trust. But he was being so kind.
Somehow, she found herself moving forward. Flynn's arms came around her, and his chest was just as solid as she'd expected. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for just a moment, savoring the feeling of being supported. It drove the tears away. She no longer felt like she was about to collapse, because he was holding her.
She wanted to soak in his strength, to stay in this safe place for a very long time. But she had to pull away. He wasn't her friend. He was an FBI agent. If anything, he was her enemy.
But he didn't feel like her enemy; he felt too good for that. And as she stayed in his embrace, her body began to tingle for reasons that had nothing to do with comfort. It was that scary feeling that finally made her step back. She couldn't be attracted to this man. That was crazy.
Flynn's blue gaze locked with hers, and she felt even more unnerved.
"I—I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know why I did that."
"You don't have to apologize, Callie."
"You must think I'm weak."
"I think you're incredibly strong."
She shook her head in confusion. "I really don't know what to make of you."
He gave her a small smile. "I feel exactly the same way about you."
She shivered as they shared a look that was far too personal and intimate. She sucked in a breath and cleared her throat. "Anyway…you can't talk to my mom, if that's why you came. She won't be awake for hours."
"Are you headed home?"
"I wish. I'd like to be in my apartment, to feel like things are normal. But I need to do what my mom is not capable of doing. I just don't know exactly what that is. Am I going to plan Arthur's funeral by myself? Will my mother even be able to attend? How long should I wait? And what would Arthur want? I'm sure his friends will be expecting some kind of service. I know he was Catholic, but would he want a rosary, a Mass, a burial somewhere?"
"I don't know if this helps, but his daughter and first wife are buried at Holy Cross Cemetery. I'm sure he has a plot there."
"I guess that's something."