Duty & Death (Foster Family Book 3)

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Duty & Death (Foster Family Book 3) Page 18

by Zavi James


  “Will you ask Lydia to bring Link in?” I asked, cutting across his sentence. Even though I knew my son was safe with Lydia, I wanted to see him and hold him. I wanted physical contact because I wasn’t sure that my soul could rest until Link was with me. I needed to apologise to him for being unable to go to him when he cried.

  “Mia, don’t you want to wait a few days? Give yourself some time to recover.”

  “No,” I told him bluntly. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to see my son. My small piece of perfection in the hell I was living through.

  Dante sighed and relented. “I can bring him in for you tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “I think it’d be better for you to rest, Mia. Let the doctor take a look at you and see you’re doing alright. Link is safe. I promise you that.”

  A knock on the door cut through the argument and made us look over to see a nervous doctor standing there with a file in hand.

  “Miss Griffin?” he said, eyes flicking between myself and Dante and I realised why he was nervous. Every doctor and nurse involved in helping me and Luc get back to good health had probably been given discreet instructions and a hefty bonus slipped into their back pocket. No questions to be asked. The best care to be given.

  He introduced himself as Dr Rowlands and looked at his file the entire time he spoke, consulting his notes as he recapped the surgery and what my recovery held — a few days to weeks for skin grafts to heal, and much longer for the physiotherapy with my shoulder. As he checked me over, I felt my energy wane and my head throb.

  “I have no clue what you got yourself involved in,” he mumbled as he finished and stepped away from the bed, but we caught it.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Dante said coldly.

  Dr Rowland looked up and paled considerably. “Of course. I just meant that—”

  “Was there anything else?” Dante asked him, business persona coming to the forefront. I was too tired to tell him to be nice. For once, I was happy to let him take the lead however he saw fit.

  “I... actually, yes, Miss Griffin.” The doctor looked up from his notes again. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you.” His eyes flicked over to Dante. “You may want some privacy.” I wasn’t sure he wanted me to have privacy so much as he wanted Dante to leave the room to allow him to breathe.

  My stomach knotted and I reached a hand towards Dante and realised that both my hands were bandaged and pulled it back towards me. Dante offered a smile, placing his hand on my knee, giving me comfort in a different form. Something bad was coming and I didn’t want to be alone for the news. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep myself together without support.

  “He can stay,” I told the doctor. “He’s my brother.”

  Dr Rowlands nodded slowly and hugged the file to his chest. For the first time, I noticed how young he was, probably just starting to specialise. He’d been sent in by those higher up with the unfortunate task of checking in and delivering the bad news. He was at the front of the firing line, but he didn’t need to worry. I didn’t have the energy to fight.

  “As I said, the surgery went well but your blood work came back with a positive result. There was a protein level that was elevated; hCG. I’m not sure if you were aware.” My jaw dropped at the words he’d spoken. Of all the things I’d expected this doctor to tell me, that had been the last thing on my mind. “We asked if there was any possibility of pregnancy before taking you in for surgery, but they said no. Considering everything you’ve been through, we’d like to run a few more tests and monitor you,” Dr Rowlands reeled off, but Dante cut in.

  “Sorry, Doc.” Dante was back to being as sweet as sugar. “I’m not following. What’s an hCG level? Does she need more surgery?” His hand gripped my knee a fraction tighter.

  The doctor flushed red, unsure of himself and whether he’d delivered the news correctly. “Sorry. I... what that means,” he backtracked. I didn’t blame him. The family had a way of intimidating people with few words and making you trip over yourself. You felt underqualified for a job you’d trained for, all because of a single look.

  I’d understood though. I knew what he was trying to tell us. “No,” I told Dante gently and turned my head to look at him. “I’m pregnant,” I whispered, not daring to believe it. Things still felt fuzzy and thick and the doctor hadn’t exactly said the words so I could be wrong. I turned back to the young doctor. “Are you sure? Do you know how far along?” I was sure he’d correct me and tell me I needed more rest and he’d come back to talk to me later.

  “Judging by the numbers, we’d estimate six or seven weeks,” he replied.

  I choked on a sob as the reality hit me. I hadn’t made it up. I hadn’t jumped to conclusions. There was no other explanation for the test result. In the fogginess of my brain one thought stood out clearly. There was no way that I was going to be able to carry this pregnancy to term after everything we’d just been through.

  “We’ll want to get an ultrasound done as soon as possible to check everything is okay,” Dr Rowland said. “If that’s something you’ll allow us to do.” I looked up at him and bit down on my lip hard before nodding. “I’ll get that sorted and send for some other tests. In the meantime, if you have any cramping or bleeding or discomfort, please let someone know as soon as you can.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered out the words, and he left hastily.

  “Boss,” Dante said once we were alone. “I know it’s a shock but having another little heathen with Luc, it was bound to be on the cards eventually.”

  “It’s not that,” I said to him through tears.

  “What’s wrong?” Dante was trying his best to fix everything. I couldn’t imagine just how much had fallen on his shoulders while Luc was out of action.

  “I’m scared,” I admitted quietly. My wrapped hands rested on my abdomen as I replayed the fights with Franco and Xavier, the stress and the pain my body had to fight through. I’d need a miracle to keep this pregnancy and I didn’t believe they existed.

  “You’re scared?” Dante repeated. “I’m terrified. This is the second pregnancy I’ve found out about before Luc. He’s going to kill me when he finds out.” When he saw his usual jovial attitude wasn’t breaking through my fear, Dante sobered up. “What are you scared of?”

  “I’m going to lose this baby,” I cried. No ‘if’ or ‘but’. I felt almost certain of the outcome. It was selfish. I had Link. Link, who was healthy and safe and waiting for me at home, but knowing I had another baby starting to grow and the odds of everything carrying on without issue further chipped away at my fragile heart.

  “How can I help?” Dante didn’t tell me that I wouldn’t. He would never give me false hope.

  My eyes stayed focused on his hands for a few moments, fixated on the rosary beads. I didn’t believe in God. I’d never believed in God. I couldn’t reconcile myself with a creator who’d taken my mother away and let me and Dad struggle through life, but I was out of options. Karma, manifestation, whatever other powers I’d relied on for years had let me down and He was the only thing I’d yet to put my faith in.

  “Pray with me.”

  Dante wasn’t quick enough to keep the shock off his face, but he straightened up and said, “Of course, boss.” He found the crucifix on the beads and made the sign of the cross before starting. “I believe in God.”

  I just hoped that Dante’s belief was enough for the three of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lucas

  The moment Mia had walked into the room with Dante, a few days after surgery and released from intensive care, was the moment my soul felt at peace. Despite the fact that he’d told me she was safe, seeing her with my own eyes cemented the fact that she was alive and breathing and mine. She was scarred and broken but she was here with me. My wife was a survivor.

  Mia’s joy at seeing me had lasted most of the morning before she had torn a strip from me for running into a burning b
uilding. She didn’t see it, the way I placed her on a pedestal. Mia was my reason for living. Without her there was no driving force behind my actions. I’d been created to find and love her. She’d loved me in return and given me my son. This was the woman I’d risk it all for time and again, and knowing how she’d gotten out of the bind with Xavier, hearing the full truth after the lies she’d twisted for the cops, made me love her even more. How could I refuse any wish when she’d fought tooth and nail just to come back to our family? How could I not have risked my own life to make sure she kept hers?

  Carefully and quietly, we unpicked the events of that night. Mia filled in the blanks and vice versa. There had been signs that we missed. Ego or arrogance, stupidity or inexperience, whatever the reason was, we’d landed in a situation that had almost taken our lives. From now on, my circle would remain tight. Nothing would be left to chance. I’d never risk Mia or Link again. Not in this lifetime. Not when we had it all.

  The repercussions of my rash decision had come back to haunt me. Of all the damage that had been done at the stables, the burns and bruises that made it difficult to breathe, my left leg had taken the brunt of it. While I prepared to conduct business from a hospital bed, answering questions and making decisions that would secure our future, one thing continued to cause concern above all else. The doctors’ dwindling optimism had come to a grinding halt, and today they voiced what we’d been hoping we could avoid. Amputation was becoming the most viable option because it didn’t look as though circulation would be restored.

  What should have been a glimmer of hope in finally being reunited with Mia, became yet another blow. As the doctor left the room, a heavy silence fell over the three of us.

  My heart shuddered in my chest at the thought of losing a limb. I wouldn’t be myself. I would be a new version. I’d become a version that needed to learn to adjust to life again. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the twisted part of me wanted to laugh. Invincible. That’s what I’d once thought of myself. Invincible. And I still believed it to be true. I could be a limb down, but I was still alive and that was what slowed the erratic pace of my heart to something more normal. As every other part of me struggled and healed, my ego had yet to take a dent to it.

  It could have been a lot worse. It could have been so much worse and that was a fact I was aware of. There were cuts that were deep and fractures that needed to heal. My skin wouldn’t sit smooth and flat in places the way it always had. I was going to lose my leg, but it could have been so much worse.

  “Is this my fault?” Mia asked suddenly, turning her attention away from the door, and towards me and Dante.

  My brow furrowed. “Mia, none of this is your fault,” I told her.

  She’d suffered through more than she ever should have, and the guilt tied her in knots some days. For the most part, Mia knew she’d done what was necessary. When it came down to a choice between her life and Xavier’s, she knew she had more to live for. It’d taken us a long conversation and visits from multiple people for Mia to realise she’d done a favour for more than us by ending his life. This had always been the inevitable conclusion to the narrative, but the shock that Mia tried to absorb was that it had been at her hands rather than mine.

  A weaker man might have folded the relationship. My wife had taken care of business that should never have reached her. That she should never have even heard of. My ego hadn’t blinded me yet. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life worshipping the ground she walked on for all the strength she exhibited.

  “Is this because I’ve been praying for the baby?” Mia asked, looking past me to Dante as if he suddenly held all the answers.

  I didn’t know what to take from that sentence first, so I went with what struck me the most. “You’ve been praying?”

  Mia was a devout atheist. Every Sunday, there was a little more sass in her actions as she reluctantly joined my side at church with the hope I’d tell her to stay at home. Her attention was never on the service, instead taking the time to observe the people around us, mind ticking and storing away any information she found useful. Mia didn’t say grace, she wasn’t sold on the idea of a christening, and the church wedding had been my request. So, why was Mia suddenly talking about prayer?

  “No, Mia. No,” Dante said, looking straight at her.

  “It is, isn’t it? I’ve been praying for the baby and this is the trade off, right? I’ll get that but He’s going to take something from us?” She was growing hysterical. “If that’s the way it works, then that’s not fair! How do you keep doing it if that’s the way this all works?”

  “Mia,” I said alarmed, wondering what the hell had been going on lately when I couldn’t be around her.

  “Mia,” Dante said. “You need to breathe. God doesn’t work like that.” She started to cry, and Dante looked as worried as I felt. The news about my leg wasn’t a complete shock. The prospect had been hanging over our heads after every daily check in, but it wasn’t what anyone would have wanted to hear. “Stress isn’t good for the baby,” Dante told her firmly.

  “Link’s fine,” I assured her, taking her bandaged hand in mine. “Nothing is going to happen to him. He’s got Lydia and Dom and Carmen. Carmen, for fuck’s sake. You think Carmen would let anything happen to him?”

  She took in big gulping breaths and hiccupped. “Not Link,” she said, looking at me. The tears hung on her lower lash line and she looked worried.

  “I’m sorry?” I tried to figure out what other secret baby Mia had managed to have without me.

  Mia’s bottom lip trembled again, and Dante answered for her. “You’re going to be a father of two because apparently you can’t wrap it and she can’t say no.”

  The tears that would have come from Mia turned into spluttered laughter as she blushed, but I was trying to process what Dante had just told me.

  “You’re pregnant?” I asked, taking her in.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, an old nervous habit, and nodded her head. “I didn’t want to say anything,” Mia whispered. “There’s so much going on, and I’m... I’m...” The tears spilled over.

  “She’s worried about reaching twelve weeks safely,” Dante said quietly.

  “Come here,” I told her.

  Mia made her way over and came to stand at the side of the bed. I placed my hand against her stomach, and she rested hers over it. This was definitely not part of the plan. We’d agreed that we’d have more children but that was after the wedding. That was after Mia had time to catch her breath because Link was proving to be a little handful. It made sense that this plan had gone to hell with the rest of them.

  I understood her fears even if I couldn’t feel them as deeply. Mia was carrying a baby and her fear and responsibility was amplified compared to mine but that didn’t take away from the fact that I wanted this baby to be safe and healthy.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked her.

  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” she told me.

  “You can’t go through this alone,” I responded sternly.

  “I wasn’t. I had Dante.”

  Dante made a strangled sound from his seat and I leaned back to look at him with narrowed eyes. “You didn’t think to tell me anything? You didn’t think I deserved to know.” Unlike Mia, there’d been no delay in seeing Dante.

  He turned a vibrant pink. “It’s not my secret to tell,” Dante said, words sounding dry in his mouth.

  “Am I ever going to find out about my future children before you?”

  “Probably not.” He shrugged. If I’d had anything at hand, I would have thrown it at his fat head for that comment. Dante had found out about Link before I had, and our second child had fallen into the same pattern.

  “Don’t be mad at D,” Mia told me, jumping in to save him before it went too far. “I asked him to pray with me. I didn’t know what else to do, to be honest. Last resort. I think He must have known that though because I’m paying the price. Not me. You are. I’m so sorry.”r />
  It was a marvel how Mia’s brain worked sometimes. She couldn’t reconcile with true faith, so she believed it worked on a bartering system, and I played along. “I’d lose both my legs if it meant that I got to keep you and our baby.”

  “Don’t say that,” she replied.

  “It’s the truth.” I’d sacrifice everything for my family. Mia and my children would consistently come before anything else in the world. If God had struck some silent deal that he only knew the terms to, then so be it.

  “Let him lose it, Mia,” Dante said from the chair. “He’ll still have the leg you care the most about.”

  “Out!” I yelled at him, making Mia jump.

  “What? I just—”

  “Get out before you lose both of your legs. Now!” Dante didn’t need any more prompting. He shot up from the seat and left the room. Once the door had closed behind him, I looked back to Mia. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I asked her.

  She moved, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and wincing as she did so. “I just don’t know when it’s ever going to end, Luc. It feels like one thing after another. I want to catch my breath, but I can’t.”

  “You will,” I told her confidently. “You will. We will. Mia, this is it. We’re almost there.”

  “We were almost there before we found him, Luc,” she said. “I thought things would settle afterwards but it feels like we’re barely treading water.”

  “Look at me.” Mia brought her eyes up from the bed to my face. “I need you. I never gave you empty promises, princess. We’re almost there,” I repeated. “But while I’m in here, I need you to first and foremost look after yourself. No additional stress, Mia. We’re making sure we meet this second kiddo of ours.” Her hands went to her stomach. “Lydia will move in to help with Link. Dom, Dante, Michael.”

 

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