That terrible day, he had been panicked beyond belief, feeling helpless to act as Beau took over, ordering him out of the Operating Room. “No, Blue. We’ve got this. I saved her once, I’ll do it again, I promise you. Go.”
He’d wanted to swing at his old friend for banishing him, yell at him that yes, he saved her before, but that was one bullet, a bullet which had missed her vital organs, but tonight, this night, her wounds were so much worse.
Butchered.
That was the word which kept coming to his mind, and he winced and tried not to scream as he thought about it.
Romy had been stabbed fifteen times. Her arms, her hands covered with cut and gashes – defense wounds. Her attacker had driven the knife so deep into her belly that it had damaged her spine. Her abdominal artery had been cut, her liver damaged, her gut sliced apart. If she made it, it would have to be a miracle, though she was clinging to life as hard as she could.
And Mateo Tigri was dead. Apparently shot dead by the same man – a man who as of this moment was still free. Carson Franks had been arrested, but he’d had a cast iron alibi for both of the attacks. His smirk at the television cameras told the story. He’d paid someone to murder Atlas – who’d gotten Mateo instead - and had paid him well enough not to roll on him.
Blue knew Carson had stabbed Romy himself. That’s what he liked to do, Atlas had grimly told him; he liked to kill women. And with both Atlas and Romy out of action, there would be no one to testify at his trial.
But his hired gun had killed the wrong brother and now Atlas was raging at the press, the police, and his own security team who had failed to protect his family. His anguish at his brother’s murder had been further exacerbated by hearing of Romy’s stabbing. Blue felt for the man…but…
He was angry. Angry at Atlas, angry at Romy. How the hell had they kept this from him? The threats that Carson Franks had been making? If he had known, he would have put the hospital on lockdown. Romy’s attacker must have followed her from their safe, secure home to this place, the place that seemed secure. There were things he could have done, had he known…like lock Romy in a bulletproof, knife-proof cube and never let anyone near her ever again.
Jesus. How were they here again? Blue got up and went to his wife’s side. He stroked her pale, cool cheek, wondering how much she could feel from within her coma. When he had seen her lying in her own blood, torn apart, he had thought she was dead. The attack had been so vicious, so merciless that it had taken seventeen hours to stabilize her.
And then Blue had had the terrible task of telling his kids that Mommy was very sick. The twins weren’t old enough to process that Mommy wasn’t coming home for a while. It killed him to think of how six-year-old Gracie had looked at him with serious eyes. “Daddy? Is Mommy very sick?”
And Blue couldn’t lie to his daughter. “Yes, honey. She’s very, very sick, but she’s being looked after by the best doctors in Daddy’s hospital.”
“Can we see her?”
He hesitated. He didn’t want Gracie to see Romy attached to all of the machinery, barely breathing, barely alive, but what if Romy didn’t make it?
“Gracie…Daddy will take you to see Mommy when she’s a little better,” said Magda as she touched Blue’s shoulder as she passed him, picking up Gracie. Blue smiled gratefully at his mother-in-law. Magda was shattered, utterly devastated by Romy’s attack, but she had rallied behind Blue and the kids.
Artemis, Romy’s oldest sister, was also on hand and had taken care of the twins, thinking of practicalities Blue hadn’t even considered like the fact Romy had been breastfeeding. Artemis had reassured him. “We’ll switch to formula, it’ll be fine, Blue. Mom, Juno and I will take care of the twins and Gracie. Romy will recover, and all of this will just be another thing we overcame.” Her voice had broken at the end of the sentence, and she began to sob, Blue hugging her tightly.
So many people had been torn apart by what Carson Franks had set in motion, he thought now. He kissed Romy’s forehead and went to his office. Beau Quinto, the retired Chief, was waiting for him.
“How’s Romy?”
“Stable, which is the best we can wish for at this moment. But she lost almost half her blood volume, Beau…if she wakes up, I don’t know if she suffered a brain injury due to lack of oxygen and then that spinal injury could mean any number of things—”
“Woah, woah, woah…” Beau held his hands up. “One thing at a time. Romy’s stable, Blue. Concentrate on that. No signs of infection?”
Blue sighed. “Thankfully, no. Not yet.”
“I think that’s a good sign considering where her injuries were.”
Blue closed his eyes, the image of Romy’s torn belly flashing into his mind again, making vomit rise up in his throat. “Who does that to a woman, Beau?”
Beau, who had suffered his own trauma years before when his wife Dinah had been shot, shook his head. “I’ll never understand it, Blue, and I hope I never will.” He studied his successor. “Blue…the Board reached out to me. Asked me to step in as interim head while Romy recovers. I told them I wouldn’t do anything behind your back.”
Blue sat down heavily. “I appreciate your loyalty, but the Board is right. I cannot run this hospital while I wait for my wife to…God, Beau, she might die. She actually might die, and if that happens, I don’t even know how to exist.”
And his friend had no words to comfort him or even hopeful lies to offer about recovery possibilities.
Ebony was scared. Atlas, removed from the initial shock of his brother’s murder, was a raging automaton, wanting to have sex endlessly, setting up nonstop meetings with record companies, drinking heavily and trying everything in his power to not deal with Mateo’s death.
Between them, Ebony, Stanley, Bella and a distraught Molly tried to help Fino through the worst of it, but he was almost catatonic with grief. Atlas could barely look his nephew in the eyes. He applied to the courts for temporary custody and was awarded it, but after that, he stayed away from the boy.
Guilt. He feels guilty, Ebony told herself, but it broke her heart to see this family torn apart. So much hurt. She was glad she could offer Atlas some comfort, but sex felt like revenge rather than lovemaking. The way he touched her now…it was fucking, not making love, and Ebony’s body ached from the constant physical demands on it. Atlas would take her in the drawing room, only disengaging seconds before someone else would enter the room, leaving Ebony flushed and embarrassed.
She had no idea what to do. Sex seemed like it was the only thing keeping him from going insane, but at this rate, Atlas was heading for a crash.
And then there was her own child, growing in her belly. A month. Just one month since that night in that New Orleans sex club, and her child was still making her sick at the most inconvenient times, but every day she felt a bond growing with him or her. She’d wondered once, but now there was no longer any question that she wanted this child.
She was still thinking about it when Atlas came to find her. He seemed calmer today, less eager to just fuck her, and when he saw her rubbing her belly, he smiled a genuine smile for the first time in days, albeit one so weary and griefstricken that it made her heart break. He put his hand over hers. “I can see by the expression on your face…you’ve made a decision.”
Ebony nodded. “I have…and I totally understand if you don’t want to be involved. I can’t ask you for that, however much I want to be with you. I can’t get rid of her.”
“Her?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Baby,” Atlas bent his head to kiss her, “as far as I’m concerned, a father is someone who raises a child, not just someone who shares his DNA. If you would let me, I’d like to try and be a father to the little one.”
Ebony felt a surge of warmth but cautioned herself. Atlas wasn’t in the best frame of mind to make such life-changing decisions. “Atlas, first, we need to try and look after Fino.”
Atlas looked away from her, but she turned his head back to
face her. “It’s not your fault. Mateo wasn’t killed because of you. He was killed by a madman.”
“Who thought he was killing me.”
“We don’t know that for sure.” Ebony sighed. “That being said, the man who actually shot Mateo is in custody. If he rolls on Carson Franks, we’ve got him. Your security team did what it was supposed to do, baby, they got the shooter.”
“But how the fuck did he get in in the first place?”
“Well, that’s something your head of security has been looking into.” She leaned against him, speaking gently. “Atlas, we need to arrange the funeral.”
“Jesus.”
His arms went around her, and she could feel his body trembling. She looked up at him, his green eyes troubled and full of bottomless grief. “I love you,” she whispered and knew it to be the truth.
Atlas tried to smile. “If you only knew how much I have fallen in love with you, Ebony Verlaine. I could not get through this without you.” He kissed her gently. “I want to look after you, care for you, and the little one.”
“And Fino.”
He nodded. “Of course, Fino. I know I’ve been disconnected and I cannot thank you and Molly and Juno enough. I’ll be better, I swear.”
He splayed his fingers out over her non-existent bump. “If it’s a father for your child you want, you have it, my love. Always.”
They kissed, then heard a small gasp. Breaking apart, they saw Bella, her face pale, but smiling at them. “Are you pregnant?”
Too late, Atlas removed his hand from Ebony’s stomach, but Ebony sighed. “I am. Very early days.” She glanced at Atlas who shook his head.
“We’re delighted,” Atlas said before Ebony could say anything else. “Obviously, the timing is unfortunate, but we hope that our child will help us all heal. Will help Fino heal.”
Bella gave a cry of happiness and hugged them both. “I’m so happy for you both.”
Ebony smiled; Bella really was a sweetheart. When she went off to find Fino, Ebony looked up at Atlas. “You didn’t need to protect my baby and me from the truth.”
“As far as I’m concerned, that is our child in there,” he said softly. He cupped her face in his hands.
Ebony felt wiped out by love for this man, and she was so relieved that he seemed to be calming down, his crazy grief beginning to give way to acceptance. She stroked his handsome face, the lines of sorrow etched deep around his eyes. “Come on, baby. Let’s go find Fino.”
As they climbed the vast staircase, they heard someone call at the front door, and Atlas’s assistant called out to them. “Mr. Tigri?”
Atlas went back down and spoke to the man at the door. Ebony watched as the man handed Atlas an envelope then turned away. Atlas tore the envelope open and cursed loudly, rage consuming him all over him again. Ebony went to him. “What is it, Atlas? What’s wrong?”
Atlas waved the letter, his eyes wild. “It’s Cormac. He’s suing me for custody of Fino.”
Part Three
Chapter Fourteen
Ebony rubbed Fino’s back as he struggled with his math homework, then glanced at Molly. The other woman was staring out of the window, her face etched with such a bottomless grief that Ebony couldn’t help but feel terrible for her.
“Molly, honey, why don’t you go grab some private time? I’ll look after Fino.”
Molly turned to her as if she hadn’t heard what Ebony had said, but then nodded, wordlessly, and stumbled from the room. Fino, dark circles under his eyes, looked at Ebony. “She misses Dada.”
“She does, baby, we all do.” She stroked Fino’s dark curls away from his face. “You know, if you want to talk about Dada, anytime, you can always talk to me, or to Uncle Atlas, or Bella. I know Molly is struggling.”
“So is Uncle Atlas,” Fino said, with wisdom far beyond his years. He sighed and pushed his homework away from him. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Then you don’t have to, honey.”
Fino smiled at her, a soft, uncertain smile. “You’re not going away, are you?”
Ebony shook her head. “No, darling, I promise.”
Fino got up and came to her, crawling onto her lap and wrapping his small arms around her. Ebony hugged him tightly. Fino’s little body was trembling. “I want to see Dada.”
“I know, baby, we all do but…darling, you know we can watch old home movies, or look at photos.”
“It’s not the same. He would sing to me, or throw me in the air. Uncle Atlas…I wish he would do that.”
“You can ask him, my love, I’m sure he’d love to, it’s just he doesn’t want to upset you. I think he thinks because he looks just like Dada, that it will upset you.”
She felt Fino shake his head. “He doesn’t look at me anymore. I think he doesn’t like me.”
Ebony’s heart shattered. “Fino…Uncle Atlas is hurting, your Dada was his twin, and he feels…guilty that he is still here when your Dada isn’t. But he likes you, honey. He loves you so much.”
“It’s not his fault a bad man hurt Dada,” Fino whispered.
“I know that, but he feels responsible.”
“I miss him. I miss Dada. And my Uncle Atlas.”
Ebony’s tears flowed unchecked then, and she buried her face in Fino’s curls. “He loves you, baby, I swear he does. You haven’t lost him too. Just give him some time. He’s trying to make sure you stay with us for good now.”
Fino looked up at her. “Like as a new daddy?”
“He’ll never replace your father, sweetheart,” she promised, feeling his body rigid with confusion. As she spoke, he relaxed slightly.
“He’s my uncle. But will you be my momma?”
She smiled through her tears. “If you want me to be, then yes, darling.”
He didn’t say anything else, but his little arms tightened around her. Ebony looked up to see Atlas watching them from the doorway. His eyes were soft. “I love you,” he mouthed, and she smiled at him.
Later, after Fino was in bed and the house was quiet, Ebony and Atlas retired to their room, laying on the bed together and talking. Atlas, who had been meeting with his lawyer, stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Cormac doesn’t have a case, that’s the bottom line. I just don’t understand why he thinks he does, why he feels he has to do this. He’s always been an asshole, but I never thought he was this petty.”
Ebony shook her head. “I can’t tell you why,” she said, “maybe it’s just a reaction to Mateo dying. Maybe he feels guilty for treating him so poorly. Maybe he thinks by bringing Fino up, he can redress the balance.”
Atlas smiled and kissed her. “I love the way you try and see the good in everybody, even in the worst situations.”
“Atlas, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then tell me…is there anything, anything Cormac could use against you? However small, however insignificant. Because if I know about it, we can get out in front of it.”
Atlas sat up, studying her. “Ebony Verlaine…the fact you are so invested in this means more to me than you would ever know.”
Ebony sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Thank you, but you avoided the question. We swore to each other we wouldn’t hide anything.”
Atlas sighed, hesitating. “The only thing, and I mean, the only thing he could even try to use was a bust for possession at college, and it was one joint, personal use. It didn’t even go to court; I got a caution. But that’s fifteen years ago, and no judge is going to hold that against me.”
“Cormac must know all of this, so why the hell is he going through the motions?” Ebony sighed and wriggled closer to Atlas. “Darling, I can’t see this going any other ways than yours.”
He pressed his mouth against her forehead. “Me too, baby. You, I, Fino and the baby will be a family.”
He pushed her onto her back and covered her body with his. Ebony, smiling up at him, wrapping her legs around his hips, sighing as he thrust his cock deep in
to her. “I love you.”
Atlas’ pace quickened as his arousal grew. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”
They made love until after midnight, then fell asleep.
Ebony’s dreams that night turned into vicious, bloodthirsty nightmares, reliving Mateo’s murder, then watching in horror as each of her friends, her brother, even Fino, was slaughtered by a faceless man. Finally, he turned to her, gun raised and shot her again and again until she woke with a cry.
Atlas sat up immediately, and she told him about the dreams. He took her in his arms. “No one is going to come near us again, I swear it.”
But Ebony found she couldn’t go back to sleep. Her stomach roiled with nausea, and finally, she slipped from the bed and went to sit in the bathroom, leaning her hot head against the cool tile. For once, her body didn’t betray her, and she wasn’t sick – maybe she was finally turning a corner.
At six a.m., the phone rang, and Blue told them that a different corner had also been turned at the hospital. Romy was waking up.
Chapter Fifteen
Romy wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Although she was delighted to see Blue, see the relief in his face as she woke from her coma, feel his kiss on her dry lips, the pain of her injuries was searing – and worse, she kept reliving the stabbing over and over again.
It had happened so quickly, so utterly shockingly. One moment, she was walking down the corridor, charts in hand and the lights had gone out. One more step and she felt a crushing blow to her head and slumped to the ground. Then someone, a man, was flipping her onto her back and pushing her scrub top up. Dazed and disorientated, she heard him say, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
Then the pain, god, the overwhelming, unimaginable pain as he drove the knife into her soft belly again and again. Her mind whirled…Dacre? Wasn’t this what Dacre wanted to do to her? Had he come back from the dead? No…
He gripped the handle of the knife and stabbed her again, with more force this time. Romy could feel her spine scream with pain – he’d hit it. Oh god…she really was going to die here, wasn’t she?
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