Always (Family Justice Book 1)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  And then, he was inside her. His claiming of her body had been deliciously passionate. With her legs draped about his waist, she used the leverage, rising up to meet his languid thrusts, and undulated as she whimpered her pleasure.

  Her hands had been everywhere as he stroked his enormous cock in and out of her. She loved how warm his skin was, sometimes scoring her nails across his flesh when the desire inside her became greedy and desperate. She’d grabbed his ass and groaned loudly as her hands felt his flexing muscles. He’d kiss her deeply when she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. It had been a slow, sexy communion of two people deeply in love.

  Her magnificent beastly giant lay on top of her, his face nestled in her neck, whispering words of praise and adoration close to her ear as he snaked his hands beneath her ass and held tight. Feeling his whole body on hers while he pumped into her had done her in.

  A wild, beautiful orgasm confirmed his possession of Meghan’s body, heart, and soul. She came in a rush of sweet, wet heat that devastated her emotions and wracked her entire being in a series of spine-tingling contractions that left her in tears.

  Alex had joined her climax before it subsided, filling her when he came while never slowing or stopping the luscious stroking that ended up shattering both of them.

  She wanted to lie there, pinned beneath his hulking body, and stay intimately joined, forever.

  She heard him murmur, “I’d die if anything happened to you.”

  Meghan tightened her embrace. “I feel the same about you,” she whispered.

  They left some time later for the trek back to the hospital, with their hands clasped together whenever possible. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other. Silent worry for Drae and Tori was with them every moment.

  Calder and Stephanie pulled in almost immediately after them and Meghan noted the quiet, subdued vibe the two put off. But they did hold hands just like she and Alex were doing.

  Lost in her private thoughts, she hadn’t tuned in to the conversation Alex and Calder had in the elevator until she heard her fiancé’s uncle declare, “We stopped at Drae’s so Stephanie could get changed and grab some fresh clothes for Tori.”

  She didn’t catch whatever came after that because all she could concentrate on was the insinuation that Stephanie had spent the night with him. In the casita. Tori will be so pleased, she thought.

  AFTER MOVING THEM INTO A large, private birthing suite where there was more emphasis on comfort, their environment lost a little of its clinical feel—but not much. It was still glaringly obvious that they were most certainly not at home.

  Victoria seemed relieved to be out of the sterile exam room and slightly bemused by being placed in a birthing suite. She still had no idea how serious her condition was.

  The doctor pulled him aside during morning rounds. It was a surreal moment. Did all expectant fathers feel this helpless? Waiting to hear the latest update, he envisioned all sorts of desperate scenarios.

  “Technically, it’s called hypotension. Some lowering of the mother’s pressure is normal during the end of the second trimester. But your wife is close to her due date so this sudden drop is a concern. Additionally, her heart rate is elevated, and while the baby isn’t showing any signs of distress, it isn’t advisable to let this go on for very long. Frankly, it puts too much stress on both mother and child.”

  Drae was hyper-alert, picking apart every word the doctor was telling him. Taking in the details, weighing the man’s tone and manner, trying to stay on top of what was being said between the lines.

  It had been a fucking horrible night. Hospitals just weren’t designed to be a calm, relaxing atmosphere. The equipment beeped and chirped, monitor screens lit up in the background, nursing staff came and went. No matter how hard he tried to manage Victoria’s environment, it was still a damn hospital and not a spa.

  She’d gotten some rest, which relieved him greatly, but his wife had also fallen apart emotionally in the middle of the night—crying softly within his embrace, pouring out her fear—until empty and despondent, when she’d fallen back to sleep.

  It had ripped his heart out. Drae just couldn’t wrap his mind around anything that made his Victoria so miserable. She wasn’t in control of what was happening in her body—neither of them were—and that harsh awareness scared the shit out of them.

  “What are the options, Doctor? Tell me what to expect.”

  “She needs to stay calm, Mr. St. John. I know that sounds impossible, but we have to keep Victoria comfortable and on as even a keel as we can. Give her body a chance to find some sort of middle ground.”

  Goddammit. Was that even a diagnosis? Stay calm? What the fuck. There was something he wasn’t telling him.

  With his arms crossed against his chest, Drae adopted a wall of power posture and fixed the man with a dark scowl.

  “Doctor—I spent a decade in Special Forces dancing with death and mayhem on a daily basis. Had my ass shot at so often in Afghanistan that I really do wish I had a dollar for each time. Do not even try to blow sunshine up my skirt. What is that you aren’t saying? Don’t kid glove me. It doesn’t work that way.”

  The man nodded slowly in understanding. “Iraq. Two years. Medical Corps.”

  Really? Drae hadn’t seen that coming. But maybe now they’d be better able to deal with one another without a layer of bedside manner bullshit.

  “So you know where I’m coming from. Just cut to the fucking chase and lay it out for me.”

  A nurse scurried by, intent on what she was doing and oblivious to them both. When she bumped open the door to Victoria’s room with her hip, Drae glanced inside and found his wife reclining against the raised bed looking very pale and very small.

  “Bottom line. If we pick up on any stress to her heart or the fetus, we’ll have to do a Cesarean.”

  Drae flinched. “Did I sign a consent for that?” he murmured—trying to remember.

  “No. But I’d like to get your formal consent now.”

  Think, man—think. “How likely is a Cesarean at this point?”

  “Fifty-fifty.”

  Fuck.

  “She could also spontaneously go into labor at any time.”

  Great. He had answers—but not really. A Cesarean might become necessary, but then again, maybe not. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He liked things neat and tidy until a certain whirlwind blew into his life and turned everything upside down. Of course, the birth of their child would be a dramatic shit show.

  They talked a while longer and his mind was filled to overflowing when he headed to the waiting room to look for Alex. He was pleased to find the same four people from the previous night, waiting impatiently for news.

  Stephanie rushed to him the minute he appeared, enfolding him in a mama bear hug that went a long way to helping him keep his shit together. Seemed that at long last he had an actual mother figure in his life. Wonders never ceased. He had to remember to tell Victoria that Calder was still very much attached to her mother by the hip. Interesting.

  Meghan clung to Alex, her mouth in a tense, grim line, while he brought them all up to date.

  Huddling on the couch next to his mother-in-law, with a couple of odd chairs pulled close for the others, Drae leaned his forearms onto his thighs and lowered his head to ease the kinks and clear his mind.

  “Okay. So, apparently a Cesarean is now on the table.”

  He grimaced when both Meghan and Stephanie gasped and moaned in unison. Apparently, the word Cesarean was a female’s buzzword.

  There wasn’t a whole lot to add after that. Cesarean summed up the situation pretty thoroughly.

  “Drae,” Alex murmured, “these folks know what they’re doing.”

  Ugh. This whole thing was so fucked up. He thought of Cam and Lacey, who had sailed ecstatically through the calm waters of a blissful pregnancy and envied them. The long months of worry and guilt over what Victoria had had to endure coalesced inside him.

  Drae loved her and hadn’t b
een kidding when he’d said he was lost without her. He’d been a dead man inside before she came along. Now, he felt everything—ten times over. The man he always hoped he’d be should love ever find him, took the little-chocolate-eyed woman for his own. Their coming together had been spontaneous, electric, and destined from the moment their eyes first met, outside along the walkway under a million twinkling stars, the night of Cameron’s wedding.

  Draegyn St. John. Entitled rich kid. Arrogant playboy. Fearsome warrior. He would curl up in a ball and die if anything happened to her. Or their baby. If anything happened to either of them… He shuddered and Stephanie wrapped her arm protectively about his back.

  Alex was right. He had to trust the medical team taking care of his precious family.

  “They want her to stay calm, and I’m going to tell the doctor that she needs to see you guys. It’ll help ease her anxiety.”

  Calder started slightly then muttered, “I’ll stay back so it can be just you three.”

  Drae trapped Calder’s eyes with a fierce look and snorted, “Fuck if you will. No, man. She’ll be thrilled to know you’re helping her mother.”

  Stephanie’s grip around his back tightened as she put her head on his shoulder. She was family and technically, so was Calder. He’d known the man a long time, after all, and he was starting to suspect he was going to know him even better in the future.

  It took a bit of wrangling and a shit ton of attitude to get the team working on Victoria to let him bring in visitors—but he got his way. The concession on his part was one short group visit instead of two or three short ones, which in the end turned out to be a brilliant move.

  Victoria perked up the moment the foursome bustled into the room in a tangle of bodies, most trying to be the first one through the door, in a hilarious comedy routine straight out of Scooby-Doo. The long-haired surf stoner, the handsome guy, a beauty diva, and a curvy, brainy gal. All that was missing was Zeus to play the part of Scooby. He grinned, watching Victoria laugh at their antics.

  And then it was half an hour of classic Family Justice shtick.

  Stephanie had immediately joined Victoria on the raised bed, settling against the back and pulling her daughter to her with one arm. His wife sank into the motherly hug.

  Meghan fluttered around making the birthing suite homier, having arrived with a handful of balloons, some flowers, and a bunch of other random shit hastily acquired from the gift shop. She acted as if absolutely nothing was amiss, telling jokes, and enthusiastically bringing her friend up to date on the progress of the yoga studio. She dropped off the bag of clothes so Victoria could change and rambled on about some fashion thing he knew nothing about. It was light, easy, normal.

  Alex, for his part, did much of the same, giving his favorite assistant an affectionate greeting then instantly launching into vintage absentminded professor mode, bitching and whining about some tech-abomination Calder was responsible for. Which, in turn, got Calder in on the conversation to defend himself with an impressive display of self-deprecating humor. All while Victoria, who was the only other person in the room who had any fucking clue what the two were even talking about, got in a few choice verbal shots of her own.

  Drae watched all this from his spot along the side wall, where he stood watching the entertaining tableau play out. He wished Cam, Lacey, and Dylan were there. Would make the circle complete.

  Before long, it was time for everyone to clear out. The actual, fucking second Victoria realized they were leaving, he watched the happiness leave her expression. She loved them all—this strange blend of disparate people who make up their unusual family.

  Going to her side, he stood close by while Stephanie reluctantly pried herself away. Stopping to cover her daughter’s face with a smattering of motherly kisses, she held her face between her hands and smiled reassuringly. “You’re in good hands baby girl. Mama’s gonna be right here, okay shugah?”

  Drae wanted to kiss the woman for how awesomely she was handling all this.

  Calder squeezed Victoria’s toe, which made her squeal, but also got the desired result, a winsome smile. “Mama’s got a new name, by the way,” he drawled with a wink. “Calling her Duchess. That’s good, don’t you think?”

  When Victoria laughed, he had to as well. Duchess? Hmmmm. Oddly—it fits.

  Then Alex did his Big Daddy thing. It was like getting a blessing from a holy man when he reassured both of them that everything was going to be fine and to just relax and let the marvels of modern medicine do its job.

  Meghan rolled up the rear, dumping a big pile of gossips rags and women’s magazines on every subject or condition known to mankind onto the nightstand. She whispered conspiratorially to Victoria as she hugged her, letting his wife know she was also leaving behind a couple of trashy romances in case she wanted to read. Dad picked a winner with her.

  With Victoria clutching his hand, she waved good-bye and thanked them all for being there. The moment the door shut behind the foursome, a nurse hurried in to take her blood pressure reading and see what her fluid intake, if any, had been.

  Motherfucker if everything didn’t start going downhill from there.

  “I WANT TO GO TO the hospital.”

  Cameron sighed deeply and looked at her with a cautious expression. “What about Dylan?”

  “He goes with, of course!”

  “We might be there for a while, and I don’t know if babies are allowed.”

  Lacey wanted to strangle him. Cutting him off before he came up with a half dozen more arguments against going, she crossed her arms and legs, started shaking her foot, and nailed him with a scathing look.

  “Cameron Justice. You listen to me. That’s your brother and my sister at that hospital. We need to be there. As for Dylan, I know you weren’t paying attention when it was you and me there, but they’re in the obstetrics building in a private birthing suite. Little children are allowed and encouraged to be involved with the family. Don’t worry about our little man. He’ll be fine. We’ll pass him around when he’s awake, and he can snooze in the Pack ‘n Play. Give us a chance to break in some of this cool baby-on-the-go equipment we got.”

  She had him over a barrel and could see him struggling with that fact in his expression. Doubling down on the foot shaking and cross expression, she waited for him to give in.

  He surprised her, though, when he finally did.

  “Thanks,” Cameron muttered. “I need to be there. Worried about Drae.”

  She bolted from her chair and insinuated herself in his arms. “Aw, honey,” she cried with real concern. “If you felt that way, why didn’t you say something? What’s with all the foot-dragging?”

  “Aw, fuck, I don’t know,” he groaned. “Some weird dad reflex, I think.”

  Lacey shook her head and smiled. She covered his face with kisses. Cameron as a daddy was just the cutest damn thing she’d ever seen. They’d driven with Dylan in the car a couple of times. Mostly for pediatrician visits but that first time? With his miraculous infant son strapped like an astronaut into a car seat? He barely made it over twenty-five miles an hour.

  “Sweetheart. That boy is a brawny little nugget. He’s under three months old by the hair of his chinny chin chin. And right now, he’s a breeze to lug around. In a couple of months when he’s all wiggly and getting ready to go mobile? Not so much.”

  Cameron hugged her tight. Grabbed her ass, of course, in the process. “What would I do without you to reel me in, huh?”

  “Oh…I think we both know the answer to that,” she laughed.

  He kissed her sweetly and told her thank you again.

  “Okay. I’ll text Alex and find out if anyone needs anything. You go figure out what we need to hang out at the hospital for a couple of hours. Let me know when Dylan’s able to take a road trip, and we’ll go join the rest of the family.”

  SO MUCH EQUIPMENT HAD BEEN wheeled into the room that even with the balloons and flowers it really did seem quite clinical again. After a vitals
check, they determined that she wasn’t taking in enough fluids. He hadn’t noticed, but once it was brought to his attention, he could have kicked himself. Victoria hadn’t asked for anything to drink and had been refusing when offered something. Or just taking a tiny sip then giving up. Why hadn’t he connected the dots?

  Now, she was on an IV drip and strapped non-stop to a baby monitor, which only added to her discomfort. Medical personnel hovered nearby and every whispered conversation made her anxiety spike.

  Drae blanked the sound coming from the fetal monitor. It was a skill and a habit he’d acquired when he’d been living in a country-sized battlefield. Consciously blocking extraneous noises and conversations—focusing on specific things. He simply ignored it.

  But he could see it was making Victoria mental. All she could do was just lie there, stuck with an IV, attached to a blood pressure machine, and strapped to a monitor. The rhythmic sounds were the wrong soundtrack for her mood.

  The hours crawled by—at one point she’d dozed off, and when the nurses came round, he pretty much told them if they woke her up they’d be dealing with him. Luckily, the lead nurse didn’t ruffle easily and had probably seen it all. She simply smiled, gave Victoria an intense visual inspection, touched him reassuringly on the arm, and drifted away.

  THE LARGE OPEN WAITING ROOM on the birthing floor afforded Family Justice plenty of room to set up a command post. Alex had been speechless then overcome with laughter when Cam arrived looking like a Sherpa as he carried in the baby equipment. Lacey carried Dylan in a comfy looking baby sling that gave her a Madonna and Child look.

  They set up a mini-nursery for Dylan with something called a Pack ‘n Play that had a changing station, storage bins, was a portable bassinette, and had a cushy napping lounger. The damn thing also played a variety of classical tunes or nature sounds. Alex knew all these details because Cam had launched into a fucking infomercial as he set it up and they all gathered round to watch and learn.