Page 120 of Wyatt
Shh. It’s okay. Yes, I’m sure.
She closed her eyes against the memory and the fact that she’d been the one to suggest they stay home. She’d been the one who dragged him upstairs.
Hadn’t let him tell her no.
Wyatt wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for her.
Not that Mikka was a mess.He’s absolutely a treasure. Yes, yes he was.
That is how God feels about you too, Coco.
She actually looked over at Gerri to see if she’d spoken. But the woman slept like she’d gotten up with the cows.
You are My treasure, Coco.
She drew her breath in, sitting up.
Looked for Wyatt, that deep voice. But the hallway was quiet.
Jet lag, maybe. She disentangled herself from Mikka and slid off the bed, walked over to the window. She pressed her hand against the dark pane. Outside, the skyline of Seattle glittered, a thousand yellow and green lights pressing against the magenta folds of heaven. The Space Needle spired above it all, the saucer on top lit with an eerie neon green. And over it all, a perfect moon hung, spotlighting the city.
You need a deeper truth. I know God brought you into our family because we needed you. But you also needed to know that you were safe. That you weren’t alone. And that you had a home.
The words had awakened a longing inside her that she had long tamped down. Belonging. Safety. If she were honest, she’d been jealous of the way the Marshall family seemed to almost take that for granted. Now, she couldn’t help but feel that she was right back where she had been five years ago. Standing on the outside of all that safety and belonging, not sure how to enter in.
You still have that home, honey.
Yeah, well, not if she brought danger to their doorstep.
She wished she still had her phone. She’d left it in Russia, too freaked out by the idea of Gustov using it to follow her. RJ and York hadn’t returned after their crazy exit, chasing after Wyatt.
She pressed her hand against her stomach.Please, let them be okay. She hadn’t thought about the fact that Gustov might be in Seattle.
She could send RJ an email to make sure they were safe.
“You okay, honey?”
She turned to Gerri’s soft voice. Nodded. “I think I’m going to find an internet café.”
“I saw one down by the coffee shop,” Gerri said. She glanced at Mikka. “Don’t worry about him. I’ll be here.”
Coco kissed Mikka, grabbed her wallet from her backpack, and headed down the hallway to the elevators. The lights were dimmed, a quietness over the otherwise brightly colored hallway. Ocean creatures—whales, dolphins, clown fish—were painted on the walls, swimming with a blue current.
Maybe when Mikka was better, she could take him out to the Seattle Aquarium. She’d visited once with her mother before she’d gotten sick.
Her mother’s leukemia had taken her so quickly, Coco had barely said goodbye.
No what-ifs. Mikka was going to be fine.
She pressed the elevator button and got in. The door closed and she shook away the distant but never absent sense of claustrophobia. Just a remnant of the terror of being locked in a dark bathroom, but sometimes it rose to haunt her.
The first floor lobby was empty. The tile floor was decorated with yet more sea animals, and art deco creatures hung from the ceiling, casting eerie shadows across the quiet, darkened floor. Lights shone in the waiting area, but she skirted it and headed toward the café. It was still open, the scent of coffee reaching out to give her a tug.
Maybe. But she spied the office area and headed into an alcove with a couple monitors and a pay printer.
She pulled out the rolling chair and moved the mouse, the familiarity of the screen a sort of blanket against her frayed nerves.
Maybe she’d send a note to her father too.