Unexpected Father. Delores Fossen

my computer at the office and got into my car in the parking lot.” Lilly froze. Her gaze froze, too, for several long moments before slowly coming back to his. “The CD wasn’t with me when I had the accident?”

      “No.” This conversation was quickly taking them into uncomfortable territory. Because of their history together and because it didn’t fall under his department, the best thing he could do was to back away. He definitely shouldn’t be the one to interrogate her. “Look, you have enough to deal with right now—”

      “And stalling won’t help me deal with it any faster, okay? Tell me what’s wrong, Jason.”

      He couldn’t. The timing sucked, and whether Lilly believed it or not, she wasn’t strong enough, mentally or physically, to hear the truth.

      “You’re still stalling,” Lilly pointed out.

      Yes, he was.

      And he would continue to do so until he’d taken care of a few things. Such as security, for instance. At a minimum, he wanted a guard posted outside her room. Just as a precaution, especially since no one other than the medical staff and he knew that she was out of the coma. Then he needed to get the doctor’s approval to allow the lead detective to tell Lilly what would essentially be yet another bombshell. One even bigger than the one he’d already delivered.

      Because nineteen months ago, Lilly’s car accident hadn’t really been an accident.

      In fact, Jason was about a hundred percent certain that someone had tried to murder her.

      THE ROOM was too quiet.

      No voices. No doctors. And definitely no Jason. He’d left hours ago with a promise to return. Lilly repeated his words now, using the Terminator’s thickly accented voice, and she added a hollow laugh.

      God, how Jason must hate her.

      First, there was her part in Greg’s death. Or from Jason’s perspective, not her part. She was entirely responsible. She accepted that. She was responsible. And no amount of penance, wishing or grieving would bring Greg back.

      Nothing would.

      Of course, Jason now had a new reason to despise her: Megan. He no doubt saw her as a threat to his custody. That was true, as well, a realization that didn’t make Lilly feel like issuing even a hollow laugh. This would almost certainly turn into a long battle where there would be no winners, least of all her daughter.

      Lilly tried to force her eyes to stay open. Hard to do, though. If the clock was accurate on her bed stand, it was already past midnight, the end of what had been one of the most exhausting days of her life.

      She could blame the fatigue in part on the physical therapy that she’d demanded. A two-hour session. Grueling. Painful. Essentially she’d discovered during the session that her muscles felt like pudding and were just about as useful. It would take “lots of time and hard work,” the physical therapist had said, for her to regain complete use of her limbs.

      Lilly didn’t mind the hard work, but she wouldn’t settle for the lots of time.

      She planned to be walking by the end of the week.

      It wasn’t exactly an option, either. She needed to be mobile so she could see her daughter. She wanted to start building a life with the child she hadn’t even known existed until six hours ago.

      A child she already desperately loved.

      She hugged the picture to her chest and tried to stave off the tears. She failed. They came anyway. Tears of joy and sadness. The joy was there because she had a precious little daughter. The sadness, because she’d already missed so much of her baby’s life.

      She wouldn’t miss anything else.

      Thanks to Jason, her baby had apparently been well cared for—by the last man on earth whom she thought would do her any favors. Of course, Megan was his flesh and blood, as well. Greg’s daughter. Jason’s niece. That was probably the real reason he’d stepped up to the fatherly plate. He’d loved his brother. Therefore, he’d love his brother’s child.

      In spite of the fact that Megan was her child, too.

      There was true irony in that. Her sworn enemy had her daughter. Not just had her, either. Jason was her legal custodian. A father by law. And he was the only parent Megan had ever known. It wouldn’t be easy for her to try to find her place in her baby’s life.

      But she did have a place.

      And no matter how hard it was, she would find it.

      Her eyelids drifted down again, but she fought it. It was irrational, but the thought of sleep actually terrified her. Because she might not wake up. Because she might lapse into another coma and stay there. In a permanent vegetative state. Alive in name only.

      “That won’t happen,” Dr. Staten had promised her when he’d checked on her after the physical therapy session.

      However, Lilly hated to take the chance. Still, she couldn’t stop her eyes from shutting. She couldn’t stop the fatigue from taking over. And the quietness of the room and the night closed in around her.

      Clutching her daughter’s picture, she drifted off to the one place she didn’t want to go: sleep.

      She dreamed of walking, her hand gently holding her daughter’s. Of hope. Of a future Lilly hadn’t even known she’d wanted until she’d seen the photo of Megan. Her baby’s smile. Her eyes.

      Then the dream changed.

      It became dark and Lilly felt pressure on her face and chest. Painful, punishing pressure that made her feel as if her ribs were ready to implode.

      She fought the dream, shaking her head from side to side. When that didn’t work, she shoved at the pressure with her hands and forced herself to wake up.

      Her eyes flew open.

      The darkness stayed.

      So did the god-awful pressure.

      It was unbearable. She couldn’t breath. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

      It took a moment to understand why. The darkness and the pressure weren’t remnants of the dream. They were real. Very real. Because someone was shoving a pillow against her face. Suffocating her.

      Someone wanted her dead.

      Chapter Four

      The panic and the adrenaline knifed through Lilly, hot and raw. It was instant. Like a fierce jolt that consumed her. Fight or flight.

      Do whatever it takes to survive.

      Lilly managed to make a muffled, guttural sound. It wasn’t quite a scream, but she prayed it was loud enough to alert someone. Anyone. And she began to flail her arms at her attacker. She fought. Mercy, did she ever fight. She wouldn’t just let this SOB kill her. But her pudding-like muscles landed as helpless thuds on the much stronger hands that were smothering her.

      Who was trying to kill her?

      Better yet, how could she stop it from happening?

      Even over the pounding of her heartbeat and the rough sounds of the struggle, she heard the footsteps. Frantic. Fast. Someone was coming.

      Just like that, the pressure stopped. Lilly didn’t waste any time. She immediately shoved the pillow aside and, starved for air, gulped in several hard breaths so she wouldn’t lose consciousness.

      She quickly looked around to make sure her attacker wasn’t still here. The room was pitch-black. Well, maybe. She couldn’t tell if the darkness was real or some leftover effect from nearly suffocating.

      “I need help,” she called out.

      The footsteps merged and blended with others, until Lilly was no longer able to distinguish which were coming and which were going.

      “Hell,” someone said.

      Jason.