“You have to!” She wailed the last word and burst into tears, forcing me to hold the phone away from my ear. “I can’t go through this alone. You’re my best friend. I’ll die if you’re not with me. I just know it.”
I glanced at Eliot. He looked amused at my plight. “This is not funny,” I growled.
“She’s your best friend,” he said. “Are you really going to abandon her in her time of need?”
“Listen to Eliot,” Derrick prodded. “He knows what he’s talking about. By the time the baby is here, we’ll probably have Jessica and Ray in custody. This works out well for both of us.”
He was full of crap. This worked out well for him, not for me. Still, I couldn’t leave her hanging. I blew out a sigh and returned the phone to my ear. “I’m on my way.”
“Thank you.” She was a blubbering mess and I could imagine snot running down her upper lip. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
I could think of one way. “If you could push that thing out before I get there that would be great.”
“Just hurry.”
I’VE NEVER BEEN A FAN OF HOSPITALS. I’m not phobic or anything, but I’m leery of germs ... and people who hide behind masks ... and that antiseptic smell that gives me nightmares of my mother getting a bug up her butt and deciding that things needed to be spring cleaned.
All of that was on my mind as we reached the maternity floor.
“I’ll wait out here.” Eliot immediately peeled off toward the lobby as I started for the desk.
Self-preservation instincts kicked in and I grabbed his hand before he could go too far. “Where do you think you’re going?”
His expression remained calm. “Right here.” He gestured toward the couch. “I won’t leave you.”
Was that supposed to reassure me? “You’re not staying out here. You’re going into the delivery room with me.”
“Oh, that’s not happening.” He shook his head, firm. “She’s your best friend.”
“Yes, and you’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to stick with me for better and worse. I think there’s something about sickness and health in there, too. This is definitely going to make me sick.”
His smiled. “Those are marriage vows.”
I thought the top of my head was going to blow off. “Are you kidding me?”
“You picked those words.”
I couldn’t take another moment of his smugness. I really, really couldn’t take one more thing going wrong in my life. In an effort to keep myself from corking off, I pinched the bridge of my nose and looked toward the ceiling. “I need you with me.”
There was sympathy in his eyes, but determination lining his forehead. “I’ll always be there when you really need me.”
“I really need you now.”
“No, you don’t. This is between you and Carly. She’s your best friend. She needs you. You don’t need me. You just want me to act as a buffer.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the same thing.”
“And I’m pretty sure you’ve got this.” He rested his hands on my shoulders and gave them a light rub. “You’re better at being supportive than you realize. Carly wants you right now. You have to be with her.”
“What a load of hogwash. You just don’t want to see her give birth.”
“Fine. There’s no amount of money in the world, no deviant sexual fantasies you could offer, that would convince me to go in there with you. This is your responsibility. Suck it up.”
I felt like crying. “But ....”
“No.” Adamant, he shook his head. “I’ll keep trying to get Kyle on the phone. There’s still a chance he’ll get here in time. All you have to do is talk her into keeping her legs crossed.”
Hope bloomed. “Do you think that will work?”
“I wholeheartedly doubt it.”
Oh, well, there went that idea.
CARLY LOOKED RELATIVELY CALM WHEN they let me into her room. They made me wash my hands three times (sending me back when they said I didn’t put in the proper effort), but thankfully I didn’t have to don a horrible set of salmon-colored scrubs. That’s where I drew the line.
“You look okay.” I flashed a smile as she looked up from the small cup she was eating out of. “You feel good enough to have ice cream. That means you should be able to hold on until Kyle gets here.”
The look she shot me was dark. “Ice chips.”
“Hmm?”
“Ice chips,” she repeated, holding up the cup. “It’s not ice cream. Ice chips.”
“Are there at least sprinkles in there? If not, that seems cruel.”
“It’s to keep me hydrated. I can’t have a glass of water ... or food.”
“That’s cruel and inhumane treatment. I mean, you’re about to push out a baby. You should get whatever you want. In fact, maybe I’ll start a movement or something. Chocolate cake for everyone in labor.”
I expected her to laugh. Instead, she glowered in such a way that told me if she could climb out of the bed, she would smash my head into the cinderblock wall.
“So, who wants to hear about my day?” I asked, changing the subject.
She rolled her eyes. “Nobody. Nobody wants to hear about your day. We’re here to focus on me for a change. This isn’t about you.”
“Rowr.” I made an exaggerated cat swipe with my hand and grinned. “If you’re going to be this crabby before the kid even gets here, something tells me you’ll be the least favorite parent in your house.”
Rather than laugh, as I intended, Carly burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. “You’re right. The baby is going to like Kyle so much more than me.”
“Oh, geez.” I leaned forward, unsure how to make her feel better. “I was just kidding. You know I can’t help myself from making inappropriate jokes. If you’re wondering which parent has the better sense of humor, though, that’s also Kyle right now.”
She sobbed harder. “I’m not ready for this.”
I craned my neck, looking around for someone to help — honestly, I would take anybody right now, including the custodian — and then awkwardly patted her arm. “I was just kidding. You need to lighten up. If you don’t, the first thing your kid hears will be you crying. Is that what you want?”
“No.” She refused to raise her head. “I don’t want him to hate me.”
I glommed on to the one word I could focus on and ran with it. “Him? I thought you guys were waiting to find out if you were having a boy or a girl. Now I vaguely remember you saying you were having a girl.”
“We thought we were.” She lifted her tear-stained face and the vulnerable look I found there was enough to make my heart clench. “It turns out we were wrong. It can happen sometimes if the little ... you know ... is tucked behind something.”
“Yes, I think that’s what happened to the killer in Silence of the Lambs.”
For a moment, her face went blank, and then she lashed out and slapped my arm. “Stop joking. I’m about to have a baby.”
She was still in there somewhere. She was still my friend. Sure, her emotions had taken over — and who could blame her because she was about to undergo the most terrifying transformation in the world? — but she was still Carly. She would come out of this on the other side and find her footing.
“You’ll be fine,” I reassured her softly. “You’ve been preparing for this for what feels like forever. You’re the most organized person I know. You’re going to win at childbirth ... and being a mom ... and whatever else you want to win at. Do you want to know why?”
She sniffled and wiped her nose with her blanket. “Why?”
“Because I don’t associate with losers.”
She chuckled. “I should’ve known you would bring this back to you.”
“That’s how I roll,” I grinned. “I’m being truthful, though. You’ve got this.”
“I hope so.” Her lower lip continued to quiver. “I don’t want to screw this up.”
“I t
hink you’re setting unrealistic expectations for yourself. All parents screw up. It’s how they react after the screw-ups that matters. You’re going to be great at fixing the screw-ups.”
“I hope you’re right.” She sniffled again. “So, tell me about your day.”
I had to laugh. “Do you really want to hear about it? Aren’t you in pain?”
“They gave me an epidural. The kid could walk out on two feet at this point and I wouldn’t feel a thing.”
“Oh, well, that sounds awesome. As for my day ....” I hesitated and then decided to go for it. “Eliot says he is going to propose.” I didn’t mean to blurt it out that way, but once I did, I immediately felt better.
She straightened, spilling her ice chips. “What?”
I hopped to my feet to sweep up the ice chips. Going through labor was bad enough. Going through it with a wet blanket had to be the worst. I caught a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye and turned in its direction, assuming the girl standing there was a nurse.
“My friend spilled her ice chips. Can we get some more?”
She didn’t respond, her eyes dark and full of hate. She wasn’t wearing scrubs. She wore street clothes, including a heavy coat, and it was only then that I noticed she had a gun.
“Or we could just do without,” I said lamely. “Um ... sorry to bother you. You can go on your way and have a nice day.”
The girl — she looked too young to be considered a woman — practically snarled. “It’s far too late for that. I think it’s time we have a little talk, and if I don’t like what you have to say, I’ll kill you and your friend. How does that sound?”
It didn’t sound like my day was going to improve.
28 Twenty-Eight
“You’re Jessica.”
It wasn’t a question.
She leaned her head into the hallway, looked both ways, and then shut the door. “You almost look as if you’ve been expecting me.”
“Not quite.” My mouth was dry and when I risked a glance at Carly, I found her face flushed with fury, not fear. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I was at Ray’s house when you pulled up. I was waiting for Ray. I parked around the corner so I would know when he arrived — and then a million cop cars pulled up.”
“Macomb County doesn’t have close to a million cars,” I offered dumbly.
“You know what I mean,” she snapped.
Unfortunately, I did. “You killed your father. That was ... a ballsy move.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That was Ray. Why do you think I’m looking for him?”
“I’m guessing it has something to do with the Hypno.”
She looked out the window in the door and then took a step closer. “You screwed up my plan.”
“I’m pretty sure Ray mucked up your plan.”
“Because your nosiness spooked him. I told him to chill out, but did he listen? He panicked, and he killed my father in the process.”
I was still putting things together, and since I needed to buy time, it made sense to do it out loud. “Your father got you hooked on Hypno.”
“My father loved me.” Jessica sneered. “He absolutely adored me. He didn’t want to be separated from me.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t mention that,” I hedged, searching for a way to control her scarred psyche. “But now that you bring it up, I’m guessing you spent your childhood longing for a father who was never there.”
“He couldn’t be there. My mother kept him from me.”
Ruth was many things, but I had no doubt she went out of her way to get Jessica and Cal together as often as possible. She seemed to have good intentions, even if her follow-through was all kinds of terrible.
“Your father developed a drug problem when you were a kid,” I said, fighting to maintain a calm demeanor. This was hardly the first time I’d had a gun pulled on me. Heck, this wasn’t even the first time this year. I was up to five instances or so, which very well could be a record. That didn’t mean I wanted to push Jessica too hard. Two more notches on her belt would mean very little in the grand scheme. She was too far gone. “Your mother offered him help but he refused.”
“I see you’ve been talking to her.” Jessica shook her head. “She’ll say anything to make my father look bad.”
“Are you sure she was trying to make him look bad?”
“Of course. When I cried for him as a child, she said I couldn’t see him because he had things going on. Things! She never once told me the truth.”
“How could she?” I used my most practical tone. “How do you explain drug addiction to an eight-year-old?”
“My father wasn’t an addict. He held down a job and was a good worker. He just liked to cut loose and have a good time. Lord knows my mother never wanted to have a good time.”
“Perhaps your mother couldn’t have a good time,” I countered. “I mean, she had a child to raise. She had bills to pay. Your father gave all that up when he turned down the help she offered.”
“What help?” Jessica’s eyes flashed. “What help did she offer him? She wanted to force him into rehab. He wasn’t an addict.”
“I don’t want to tell you your business ....”
“Then don’t!”
I pushed forward. “If your father wasn’t an addict, why didn’t he go through the rehab process for form’s sake? That would’ve gotten your mother off his back.”
“I ....” Jessica’s mouth moved but no sound came out.
“I think your mother tried to protect you from your father the best she could,” I said. “Things didn’t go as planned, but she still tried. It had to be heart-wrenching for her when you turned out just like him.”
“Watch your mouth,” Jessica hissed. “You want to be extremely careful about what you say.”
I swallowed hard, debating, and then Carly decided to insert herself into the conversation.
“I don’t want to intrude, but I’m in the middle of having a baby,” she said, flashing a smile that she probably meant to come off as sweet but was right out of the It clown’s playbook. “Could you guys perhaps take this conversation to another room?”
I was desperate to get Jessica away from Carly. “That’s a fabulous idea. In fact, why don’t we take this outside of the hospital? If we follow the hallway, there’s an employee exit into a side parking lot. Nobody will be there. We can talk without being interrupted.”
It wouldn’t be the best move for my safety, but it was what Carly needed. Unfortunately, Jessica was having none of it.
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
I took a moment to study her red-rimmed eyes and sallow complexion. “You probably don’t want me to answer that question.”
“Definitely not,” Carly agreed, growing bolder. She didn’t appear frightened. If I didn’t know better, I would think she was ready to hop out of the bed and start throwing punches. “But I’ll answer it. You’re definitely stupid. I mean ... who wanders into a maternity ward with a gun and thinks that’s going to work out?”
“Who are you?” Jessica’s agitation was on full display as she turned on Carly. “Why are you even a part of this?”
“Are you kidding?” Carly’s eyebrows practically flew off her forehead. “You come into my room when I’m about to give birth ... with a gun no less. I’ll ask questions if I want.”
Jessica raised the gun. “I think this says otherwise.”
Carly caught herself before she could say something truly hateful. “This is all your fault, Avery. I knew I shouldn’t have called you to help me.”
Under different circumstances I might’ve laughed. This situation was a bit too serious for my liking, though. “You definitely shouldn’t have called me,” I agreed. “But it’s too late now. We’re stuck together.”
“That’s my lot in life,” my best friend grumbled. “You and me, together forever. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Eliot was going to propose.” She seemed to have found a new avenue for her
frustration. “How long have you known?”
I hesitated and then shrugged. “He told me right after the Fawn thing. He said he was going to propose, that I was going to say yes, and he was giving me time to absorb the news by telling me the way he did.”
Carly nodded sagely. “That makes sense. You really are a pain. He obviously has you figured out.”
Her response rankled. “Everyone keeps saying that. Has anyone considered that maybe I’m right to be frightened?”
“No.” Carly’s smile was benign. “He’s the only person I know who can put up with your crap. And he’s figured out how to get you to move forward. He’s perfect for you.”
That was the last thing I wanted to hear. “Just once I want to be the one who is right. Everyone thinks he’s sunshine and rainbows, and I’m the storm clouds on the horizon. It’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“You are, like, the fiftieth person to tell me that this week.”
“Then maybe it will sink in.” She flashed a smile. “When do you think he’s going to propose? Oh, wait ... he’s not going to take you to a basketball game and do it on the big screen, is he? There’s nothing tackier.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that he might try something public. After a moment’s consideration, I shook my head. “He won’t do it like that. There would be no meaning behind it. He might do it big, but it won’t be at a game.”
Carly tapped her bottom lip. “But he would do something public. Like the Star Wars party he threw you. He would want it to be special for you. I wonder if it will have a theme.” She readjusted her body and pressed her hand to her back, grimacing. “Maybe he’ll let me pick the theme.”
Worry coursed through me when I realized she was suddenly feeling discomfort. She said the epidural was taking the edge off. Was that no longer the case? Did that mean her labor was progressing? Would the baby come before I could handle the Jessica situation?
“As lovely as this conversation is, we need to talk about me,” Jessica drawled, drawing my attention back to her. “None of this will happen unless you come through for me.”
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