Soul

by Audrey Carlan

  Two children. Our family of three just grew to our family of four.

  “Chase…” Gillian whispers, her voice catching. Within two strides I’m at her side, I’ve got her in my arms as she cries into my chest. Sobs rather. Loudly.

  “Baby, it’s going to be okay. We’re okay. The babies are…fuck me, the babies are…” I look over at Dr. Wong. She’s pushing the machine back to its corner and washing her hands.

  Over her shoulder she responds. “Babies are great. Heartbeats are strong, size is perfect for two six week old fetuses. We’ll do a blood panel on mom to make sure, but I don’t think whatever drugs she was exposed to could have done any damage as the embryo’s likely hadn’t even implanted when the initial attack occurred.

  The doctor stops in front of us, Gillian still teary, snuffling into my chest. “Here,” she hands us both a snapshot of the two babies, one with a little “A” next to it and “B” next to the other. Our children, A and B. I stifle a laugh; it’s honestly not that funny, but I need to see to my wife, get her out of here so that the two of us can process this.

  “Thank you,” Gillian says, awe clearly controlling her emotions as she runs a finger over each blob.

  “The nurses up front will set you up on a regular schedule with me. I’ll see you once a month for the next five or so months and then we’ll determine the birthing plan. In the meantime, I suggest you read up on twins, what’s happening to your body, and take your prenatal vitamins. The ladies will give you a packet of information to take home detailing the next steps. And just remember,” she sets a hand on Gillian’s knee. “Women have been having babies for centuries, and twins are not uncommon in my profession. I’m going to take good care of you.”

  We both nod. “Thank you Dr. Wong. And for seeing us so quickly.” She nods and leaves the room.

  Gillian face plants into my chest again. “What are we going to do?” she says though her words are muffled.

  “We’re going to take it one day at a time, Baby.”

  “But twins…I’m going to be huge!” she scowls.

  “More of you to love…and to fuck.”

  That last part got a full chuckle out of her. God she could heal the world’s problems with just her laugh.

  “Pervert.”

  “With you…always.” I wink then help her get up. She dresses and we get our packet from the front desk, set up a slew of appointments which I request an additional copy of.

  “Why do you need a copy?” Her lips come into a thoughtful pout.

  I pull her into my side as Jack sees us from within the waiting room. He opens the door and leads us to the SUV.

  “I need a copy to give to Dana so she can make sure that I’m available for our appointments.”

  Gillian’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “You’re going to come to all of them with me?”

  I narrow my gaze. “Of course. You’re my wife, these are my children. Does it not involve me?” I’m not sure where she’s going with this line of questioning and frankly I find it off-putting. What kind of man impregnates his wife then leaves her to the wolves to go through it alone?

  She clasps her hands in front of her lap. “I guess I just thought men didn’t go to things like that. Phillip hasn’t gone to all of Bree’s appointments.”

  “I’m not Phillip.” She frowns, but even the mention of Phillip has me clenching my jaw. She pets the hammering muscle and one of her eyebrows rises along with a smirk of her lips. “Gillian, I plan to be a part of every single moment of your pregnancy, even if it’s just to see Dr. Wong stick a plastic dick-shaped camera up your pussy. My wife, my pussy, I want be there. Is that okay with you?” I ask, my tone making it clear that any answer other than a resounding “yes” will not do.

  “Baby, you want to trample all over our doctor already?” she laughs. “I’m going to be dealing with a crazy, unreasonable, overprotective daddy-to-be aren’t I?” She sighs and my hackles rise.

  I huff. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ensure that my wife and my babies are getting the best possible care.”

  “That’s a lot of “my’s” since we left the doctor’s office, Chase. You think you can tone it down a little?” her tone is sarcastic and I don’t care for it.

  I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” I pull her close with one arm around her back, with the other I manage to check that her safety belt is firmly fastened. She rolls her eyes and makes no bones about ensuring that I see it.

  “This is going to be a fun seven and a half months,” she grumbles.

  I think about her rounding out with child, her hips becoming insanely soft, her breasts hopefully growing along with her. I grin and imagine how incredibly beautiful she’s going to be. “I can’t wait.” I say out loud, not really meaning to.

  “You can’t wait? For our children?”

  I look down into her soft features, that light that shines so brightly behind her eyes. “Yes. You’re going to be the best mother and with you by my side, I have an excellent chance of doing okay myself.”

  She lifts my hand and places it over her flat stomach. “As long as we’re together, we’ll get through anything. We’ll give them two parents, a wonderful home, and most importantly a lot of love.”

  I tip up her chin with my fingertips. “In the span of a week our family went from two, to three, and now to four. Thank you.” Leaning down, I plant my lips over hers and kiss her silly. She accepts it and more, then gives it back tenfold.

  “I love you,” she whispers into my mouth before sealing her lips over mine. We spend the next thirty minutes in rush hour, downtown, San Francisco traffic making out like a couple of teenagers in the back of the family SUV.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gillian

  Her face is deathly pale in sleep but the monitors bleeping next to her prove she’s stable. Her heart rate is where it should be, and the same with her blood pressure. She’s been in and out of consciousness since she was moved to the Bothin Burn Center at St. Francis’s Memorial Hospital over a week ago. I finally got Carson to leave her side to catch a shower and some sleep. Promised him I wouldn’t move from this chair until his return, and I meant that. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with my Kat.

  I push a stray lock of golden hair away from her face. Her eyes flicker open. They’re glassy and unfocused, but she smiles anyway.

  “Hey, Kat, there you are,” I say soothingly making sure I’m close to her. I’m holding her uninjured hand. She has light bandages covering the first skin grafting over her arm, the worst of the burned area. The neck is second, and then down the side of her ribs. We were informed she’ll undergo a series of grafting and surgeries over the next year. Chase, of course, is making sure she receives the best possible care and has informed the Board of Directors of his interest and considerable donations he foresees in their organization’s future. Again, I don’t care if Chase throws his money around like a hammer as long as Kat gets what she needs to heal. Phillip did, and is almost in perfect condition. I want that for Kat.

  I look at Kat’s face, the bandages surrounding the upper half of the right side of her body, and the tears I’ve been holding back fall. This is my fault. “I’m sorry,” I choke out and hold her hand to my face, kissing the top of her hand repeatedly.

  “Did you hurt me?” she asks in a low tone her voice rough, as though she hasn’t spoken in a month.

  I shake my head while the tears fall to her hand. “Then stop acting like you did,” she warns. “Now, tell me what the doctors say?” Her eyes become harsh. “They keep sugar coating my prognosis and doping me full of drugs so I either fall asleep or I can’t think straight. I need the truth.”

  Clearing my throat, I lean closer to her. “I think it would be better if Carson…” I start and she shakes her head then winces in pain. I stand up. “I’ll get the doctor!” Again she stops me with a squeeze of my hand this time.

  “You’re my sister. Tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

&nb
sp; I close my eyes let out a breath, and, without looking at her, tell her what I know in a long rush.

  “You’re stable, they have the carbon monoxide poisoning under control. They’re watching your lungs for any signs of pneumonia.”

  “Gigi…”

  The tears slip down my cheeks, but this time I open my eyes and try to be strong, for her. “They said you will have little use of your right arm and minimal to no use of your hand. The nerve damage was too extreme.”

  “Go on.” Tears fill her caramel brown eyes and slide down her cheeks. I almost break down and sob, but I can do that later. Now is when I need to pull up my bootstraps and be strong for my girl.

  “Okay...um...they harvested the grafts from your bum and both inner thighs, but there should be very little scarring. The grafts are doing their thing now. You will probably have to undergo a lot more surgeries down the road, but the hope is that most of this will be behind you within a year or so.”

  Kat nods, tears falling, and I wipe them away. “So my career is over.”

  “No, Kat. That’s not true…there are ways…”

  She shakes her head. “Not being able to sew, use my hands, especially my right hand. As it is I’m going to have to learn to be left-handed. It’s over, the dream, and the sooner I accept that the better off I’ll be.”

  “Kat, you don’t know that. You have no idea what the use of your arm and hand are going to be like down the road. With physical therapy. Nerves regenerate, muscles can be retrained. Don’t give up. Just do everything the doctors say. All of us will help you through. Carson will help you…”

  Her words are as cold as ice when she says, “Carson? You mean the man who has never once told me he loves me?” Shit. I thought they were past that. Unfortunately, I’ve been so busy the past three months, focused on my own situation, I never even bothered to ask. I’m a shitty friend.

  “He loves you Kat.” I say with as much conviction as I have in my heart, because I really do believe he does.

  She brings her chin down her eyes dark and hard. “Really? You think through all of this, and everything we’ve been through he could have maybe said it…maybe even once?”

  “But he’s been here with you every step.”

  Kat nods. “Yeah, he has, but that could just be to save face. And now, that my arm, neck, and side is burned beyond recognition, my ass and thighs have been scalped, you think he’s really going to want someone who looks like this?” She shakes her head, and I do not like where she’s going. As a matter of fact, I can feel where she’s about to go, and I hate it.

  “Listen to me, Kat. He loves you. He’ll be here for you.”

  With a cough and a wince she lays back on the pillow. “But do I want someone who doesn’t love me to be here?” Tears fill her eyes once again, and she moves to lift her bad arm to wipe them away and cries out. The pain must be excruciating even with the painkillers. As it is, the smell of her wound, the dressing, whatever salve they’ve put on it is making my mouth water with the sour taste that occurs right before I hurl. I do everything I can to push the nausea down, but her temperament, where her head is right now is not helping. It’s physically making the tension in my stomach feel like acid swirling around and around ready to crawl up my throat.

  “Look, Kat, I know Carson feels deeply for you.” She lets out a puff of air between her dry lips. “He does or he wouldn’t have been here this whole time. As it is, the only reason he’s gone is because I forced him to leave, to take a shower, and get some sleep so he could be fresh and ready to keep vigil over you. He’s not left your side since you were brought in from the fire. If that’s not love, I don’t what is.”

  Kat purses her lips and closes her eyes. “Maybe. I guess time will tell.” Her response is vague and delivered with absolutely no feeling. I have to just chalk it up to her being in a very emotional, vulnerable position right now and let it go. My job is to be here for her. That’s all I can do. That’s all any of us can do.

  Chase

  Everything is in place. Dana called and said the food is being set up at Coit Tower for my date night with Gillian. Pin prickles of anticipation mingle with tension while I peek into the room where my wife is holding hands with Kathleen. They are both talking so low I can’t hear the words, but it’s definitely a serious conversation. Slowly, I back away, pull up my phone and text my woman.

  To: Wife

  From: Chase Davis

  I’m going to be later than planned. Have Jack take you to Davis Estate after hospital. I love you. Kiss our babies.

  That should do it. If something happens to me and this shit goes down badly, Gillian and our children will have that message. She’ll always know that I love her and our children. If she knew what I was about to do she’d lose her mind. As it is, I’m losing my mind worrying about her and the two children within her.

  Desperate times call for desperate measures. This is our fucking Hail Mary. If it doesn’t work, I fear this will never end. I won’t be able to protect my wife or our children. We’ll constantly be under watch, waiting for the next strike. Neither of us can live like that. It’s wearing Gillian so thin, and after everything she’s been through, Justin, losing her mother, her friends getting hurt, watching my mother die, being kidnapped and beaten…no, no more. I cannot stand by and wait for him to get his hands on her again. I’ll die protecting her, and my only regret will be never having seen my children’s faces. It’s a risk I have to take.

  The undercover cop is already in the blacked out SUV when I arrive. The sun is just setting on the horizon darkening the sky. Agent Brennen was to have the team in place as of early this morning. We don’t want to take any risks that they’ll be clocked by McBride when he arrives. A couple are in the old heating and air ducts, another set on the buildings pretty far away, but the FBI assures us they’re the best. And, of course, Agent Brennen is close; where, I don’t know. Detective Redding is inside the top of the tower secured in a cutout in one of the stone pillars. Fully loaded weapon ready to go.

  Once I get into the car, I pull off my shirt and put the Kevlar vest on.

  “You think he’s going to fall for me?” The pretty red-head says. She looks nothing like Gillian normally, but she has very pale skin, is the same height and build aside from my girls vivacious curves. When I met Detective White, I looked at her small tits and thought the first thing McBride would notice were the lack of Gillian’s sizable attributes. Now though, staring her up and down, she could easily be Gillian from a distance. She must be wearing a heavily padded bra. The wig she’s sporting is almost frightening in similarity to Gillian’s incredible locks, completely covering this woman’s normal brunette hair.

  I nod while buttoning up my shirt. Her normally blue eyes have green contacts in them that do not hide the fact that she’s checking me out. Well, at least the faking him out part will be easy. “You like what you see?” I grin, falling back on my old pre-wife flirting habits before mentally chastising myself for the poor behavior. If my wife finds out I am here with this woman, about to touch and kiss her, she’d tweeze the hair from around my cock one painful tug at a time.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Davis. That was incredibly unprofessional.”

  I shake my head and push my arms back through my suit coat. “No matter. We’re here to do a job. It helps that you’re not put off by me. If this is going to work, draw McBride out, he can’t think it’s a setup. We need to carry on as if you’re my wife at a romantic dinner.” I smile and she takes a deep breath. I grab her hand and hold it. She instantly startles. “See, you can’t push away from me. He’ll be watching. God willing.”

  Her jaw is tight when she nods, but then after a moment of holding hands she softens and relaxes. I look down at my phone and check one last time to see if Gillian has texted. She hasn’t. And the screen does not show that she’s seen my message yet. Good. That just means I have more time before she suspects something is up. To make sure I’m not swayed or distracted, I power off my phone, taki
ng one last look at her smiling face. Then I pull the picture out of my coat pocket and scan the two hazy white figures.

  “What’s that?” the nosey detective asks leaning close to me. I want to snatch it from her view and hide it away, but I can’t. This may be the last time I ever see them again.

  Gritting my teeth I show her the image. She looks at it and smiles wide. “Twins?” she gasps. How the fuck do women know that right off the bat? It’s two blurry blobs for crying out loud. These things must be in some type of health class when a girl is growing up. One that the boys aren’t privy to. She looks at the photo. “Your wife?”

  I nod but put the picture safely back in my breast pocket right over my heart.

  “I am a twin,” she shrugs. Fraternal like yours.” Again, she knows they are fraternal just by looking at the picture. “My sister and I are really close. Look nothing a like, but shared a room growing up, then through college, and now we live next door to one another. She’s married with a kid, no twins though. They say it can skip a generation. Any twins in your family?” she asks.

  The last thing I want to talk about are my twins, but I also don’t want to put her off. I need her to play along. The future of my twins and my wife hangs in the balance. “Not that I know of.”

  “Huh, well, possibly your wife’s?”

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t know, but you’re a wealth of information. Thank you,” I offer. The detective smiles brightly, then remains quiet, thank God, for the rest of the journey to Coit Tower.

  When we arrive, I have her place a pair of Gillian’s glasses on her face. Our guard in front of us hands us two cordless ear mics. She puts one in, and I follow her lead.

  “Mr. Davis, can you hear me?” Agent Brennen’s voice comes through the tiny flesh-colored mic crystal clear.

  “I do. Can you hear me?” I ask.

  “Roger that. We have not seen the suspect, but that doesn’t mean he won’t show or isn’t already here. Stay sharp. It will be expected to have your bodyguard lead you through the building and then leave you alone. He’ll be waiting for that. Detective White, you good?”