Page 8 of Unraveled

Audrey glanced up at Mayfield. “Every single organ is missing.”

“Not just missing,” Dr. Pratt corrected. “Removed.”

CHAPTER

FOUR

Carter lifted his free hand and rapped his knuckles on the door, three short beats that seemed to linger in the stillness of the quiet afternoon. The main road was empty, the small neighborhood seemingly lifeless. He suspected most people were still at work, their kids at daycare or in school.

He shifted anxiously, praying she was there. The driveway was empty, but the little condo had a one-car garage, so he could only hope her car was parked inside. He had called the health center to see if she was at work today but was told she’d taken the rest of the week off. He was still furious about how their last meeting had gone.

She had looked fine on the surface, resolute in her decision to completely cut ties with her past. It bothered him because he wanted to know how she was doing mentally and emotionally. Audrey was an enigma, and he had a feeling she buried her true self way down deep where no one would see it.

He knew he wanted Audrey the first time he laid eyes on her beautiful face; the fiery red of her hair was rivaled only by the flames in her eyes. His fingers clenched the handle of his briefcase, reassuring himself with a squeeze that it—and, more importantly, the information he was about to deliver—was still there.

Tucked under his arm was a bottle of Dom that he’d picked up on the way, because, well… he still hadn’t figured that part out yet. Maybe he was an idiot for thinking she’d welcome his presence, but he wouldn’t know unless he tried.

His patience was rewarded when, moments later, muffled footsteps approached the door and hesitated on the other side. He sucked in a breath as the pause elongated. He could feel her eyes on him through the peephole, wondering why he was there. That made two of them. He fought the doubt slowly creeping up inside and struggled to school his expression into one of calm aloofness. Finally, the snick of the lock turning in its case reached his ears, and he let out the breath he’d been holding.

Audrey’s face peered around the door, brow furrowed. “Mr. Cross?”

He smiled charmingly despite the churning in his gut. “Please, Audrey, call me Carter.”

The corners of her lips turned down even as she opened the door wider and allowed him to enter. “What can I do for you?”

He strolled into the entryway and turned to watch Audrey as she diligently closed and locked the door, then turned toward him, wary eyes fixed on his. “Actually, I’m here on your behalf. I couldn’t show up empty-handed.”

He extended the bottle of champagne to her, and her eyes swept over him, one sardonic eyebrow cocked upward. “Oh? I guess four hundred dollars an hour buys me a bottle of Dom Perignon. Maybe I should get divorced more often.”

His smile dimmed a bit, irritation overriding the giddy anticipation he’d felt. Still, he bared his teeth at her in a semblance of a smile. “This is a congratulatory gift.”

Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought the gift was that you’re going to relieve me of my scumbag ex-husband so he’s free to marry that little blonde tramp?”

His heart went out to her. He saw it all the time, but it had never affected him before, not the way it did with Audrey. Her husband had treated her poorly, and she deserved better than that.

His gaze swept over her. Clearly, she’d been relaxing or taking a nap, judging from her laid-back outfit. He’d only ever seen her in beautifully cut suits or dresses, but even in yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt, the woman was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. Gorgeous. Why would that idiot leave her for another woman? It didn’t matter. Scott Gerber’s loss was going to be his gain.

He lowered the bottle of champagne that she still hadn’t accepted. He hadn’t come here with any real plans, but the longer he stood there staring at her, the more he itched to have her. The real gift was her freedom. She could be with whomever she wanted now. He intended to make sure she chose him.

“That, too,” he admitted. “I have something for you.”

“Fantastic.”

His lips compressed at her sarcasm. He set the briefcase on a side table and extracted the folder within. “Here.”

Her eyes met his, her body immediately tensing. “What does he want now?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Scott was approved for the loan to buy out your portion of the practice, so all I need is your signature to make it happen, and we’ll get it all finalized.”

He passed the sheaf of papers to her, and she stared at them, dumbfounded. “It’s… Really?”

Was that disappointment he saw there?

She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed out a heavy sigh, her voice low. “Thank God. I was worried he wouldn’t come up with the money.”

He lifted one shoulder. “I know the loan officer at the bank who approved him.” Her head tipped to one side in question, and he continued. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s getting raped on interest.”

A slow smile spread over her face, lighting her eyes, and his chest constricted at the sight. “Actually, it does.”