“But I wasn’t, Nick.” She rested her hands on his chest, beseeching him with her eyes. “I’m right here. I’m fine.”

“This time.”

“You’re upset about Julian. Let’s talk about this later. When I get home.”

He shook his head. “I can’t spend my whole life waiting for it to be you. I’m sorry, Sam.”

The elevator doors opened, and Skip and Celia emerged.

“Sam!” Celia cried. “How’s Freddie?”

Nick got into the elevator and punched the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, he caught a last glance of Sam’s stunned expression.

Chapter 18

“Sam?” her father said. “What is it? Is Freddie worse?”

Fixated on the elevator doors, she shook her head. “I think Nick just broke up with me.” She couldn’t believe how much it hurt to say those words.

“No, honey.” Celia slipped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “He’d never break up with you. He’s upset.”

“This was more than that.”

“Once things calm down, he’ll come around,” Skip said.

In that moment, Sam realized things would never calm down, not with two all-consuming jobs sitting at the center of their relationship. “I don’t know, Dad. He sounded pretty sure.”

“Look at me.”

Startled by his sharp tone, Sam let her eyes drop down to meet his. “He’s upset about Sinclair. You can’t take anything he says or does right now to heart. Give him some space. He’ll come around.”

“Sam,” Captain Malone called from the waiting room, waving at her to come.

With her father and Celia in tow, Sam headed down the hall. She couldn’t think about what’d just happened with Nick. Right now she needed to stay focused on Freddie, the search for Reese and the Sinclair case. She’d do what she always did when life became too much for her—she’d work until she dropped from exhaustion. Nick loved her. Of that she had no doubt and in that she would have faith until she could be with him again.

An O.R. nurse had been sent to inform them that Freddie was out of surgery and in recovery. The surgeon would be down to speak with them shortly.

Upon hearing that news, Sam sagged into a chair and closed her eyes to say a silent prayer of thanks. She reached for her cell to call Gonzo, who had texted her to let her know he was back in town and at Reese’s house. “He’s out of surgery,” she said when he answered.

“And?”

“That’s all I know right now. What’s up out there?”

“No sign of Reese anywhere,” Gonzo said, his voice tight with strain. “That bastard had better hope I’m not the one to find him.”