Kings of Denver - COMPLETE BOX SET 1-4

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Kings of Denver - COMPLETE BOX SET 1-4 Page 68

by Sheridan Anne


  “Dani? What’s up?” he asks.

  “Dani?” Miller questions with a grunt but my attention is on the squawking that’s heard through the line.

  “Where’s Tank? It’s Sophie, she’s been hurt.”

  What? Coach Larsden’s eyes instantly flick to mine but I’m already out of my chair reaching for his phone. He hands it over and I instantly start questioning her.

  “Dani? What’s wrong with Sophie?” I ask in a rushed tone as Miller comes to stand right by my side.

  “I called an ambulance. She’s been beaten,” she starts.

  “What?” I cut in as I take off out of the room.

  “I think it’s a home invasion,” she cries. “You need to hurry, she’s lost a lot of blood.”

  Fuck.

  I hang up the call and find myself already in my truck with Miller right beside me. I kick over the engine and peel out of the car park. “Head to the hospital,” Miller says as he sees me about to take the turn off for home. “She said she called an ambulance.”

  Shit, of course.

  I break pretty much every traffic law as I try to get to my wife as fast as possible. What the hell did Dani mean she had been beaten? And how much blood had she lost? Was she conscious? Talking? Breathing? What about my son?

  Question after question fills my mind and has me pushing my truck to its absolute limits, desperate for the answers.

  I pull up outside the emergency ward and leave my truck in the ambulance bay with the keys still in it. They can move it themselves if they need to, fuck, they can tow it for all I care. I just need to get to my wife.

  I run straight in and instantly find Dani, balling her eyes out with a distressed Mia curled in her arms. “Where is she?” I demand.

  Dani gets up instantly and rushes towards me. “They’ve taken her straight in for emergency surgery,” she cries.

  “Surgery?” I question with panic.

  Dani lets out a sob. “There was too much blood.”

  Fuck.

  I bypass Dani and head straight for the lady at the check in spot. “My wife, Sophie Meyers, she was brought in not long ago. I need to see her.”

  The lady quickly scans her computer before looking up at me. “I’m sorry, sir. Sophie has been taken into surgery for extensive injuries. You will need to take a seat in the waiting area. We will update you when we have any news.”

  “Fuck,” I grunt as I start pacing in front of her desk then suddenly stop to look at the woman. “Just tell me she’s ok,” I beg.

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I do not have that information. She came straight through the doors and into surgery. I should not make any assumptions but I would assume she is in a serious way,” she says being straightforward with me which I know eventually I would probably appreciate.

  “And my son?” I ask.

  “Son?” she questions as she looks furiously at her screen. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head ever so slightly as a panic settles over her features. “Only one patient was brought in. There is no mention of a child.”

  “My son. Sophie’s pregnant,” I confirm.

  She double checks her screen. “There is no mention here of a pregnancy,” she tells me.

  “What?” I shout. “She’s five months pregnant. How could they not know? You’re telling me my wife is in surgery and the doctors don’t know she’s pregnant?” My voice gets louder and louder by the second and suddenly Dani is standing at my side with a hand on my forearm.

  “It’s ok,” she murmurs in a soothing voice. “I told the paramedics. They said it was obvious and I heard them mention it when they called it in.”

  I nod my head and let out a deep breath. I turn my back and take a seat in the waiting area with nothing but my own torturous thoughts streaming through my mind.

  Dani takes a seat next to me with a bunch of papers. “The lady asked if you could fill this out,” she says, not bothering to hand it to me, already knowing what my answer is going to be.

  “What happened?” I ask softly.

  She lets out a breath as silent tears slide down her face. “I got to your place just after one. The front gate was open and the door was left cracked as if someone had left in a hurry. I found Sophie on the floor, she was in the corner of the living room in a heap of blood,” she whispers as the images start flashing in my mind. “Her face was badly bruised and cut up, she had a broken arm and there was a lot of blood staining her jeans. I don’t know if she was hurt there or if she was bleeding internally,” she tells me.

  I hang my head.

  I refuse to believe that. Sophie is strong and so is our son. They will both pull through. They’ll be ok. Sophie’s just in there getting a few stitches and a cast for a broken arm. Everything is going to be ok.

  I repeat the thoughts over and over again.

  The next few hours drag by but when that doctor comes through the door and calls out Sophie’s name, I have never been so quick to get to my feet. I dash towards the doctor in absolute desperation. “Sophie’s my wife,” I confirm so he can get started on the details.

  The doctor’s eyes bulge out in surprise and I realize he’s a fan but now isn’t the time. He lets out a small cringe before he schools his features. “Sophie is out of surgery, she is doing ok considering, however, she will be asleep for a while longer,” he tells me. “She will be taken to the recovery wing within the next half an hour where you’ll be able to sit with her.”

  I nod my head, while he has told me all good things, he hasn’t said a damn thing about her injuries. “How is she?” I prompt.

  He lets out a sigh. “I’m not going to sugar coat it. She is in a bad way. Whoever did this, set out with the intention to harm. You’ll have to prepare yourself before you see her. There are a lot of cuts and swelling to her face. Her arm was broken in two places and is currently held with pins, she also has three broken ribs,” he explains. “Internally, there was a lot of bleeding,” he adds with a different tone of voice as he places a comforting hand on my shoulder. “There was not a lot we could do for the baby, unfortunately, the trauma Sophie suffered was just far too great.”

  No.

  My whole world comes crashing down around me. My son didn’t make it.

  I don’t hear a damn thing the doctor says following that. I don’t notice when Dani and Miller try to offer their condolences. I don’t even take notice as a car crash victim gets pushed through the double doors and straight through the other side. The only thing I do notice is when I am told I can see my wife.

  Dani and Miller stay behind, despite their numerous objections but I don’t have it in me to fight for it and honestly, I need this time with Sophie. I just need to be alone with my wife.

  The nurse leads me to her room and I’m in absolute shock as I take in her broken body. I fall to my knees beside her bed and instantly start sobbing as I take her unconscious hand in mine. “Who the hell did this to you?”

  I could have stayed there for minutes or it could have been hours. I will never know but eventually, my tears dry up and I manage to get off the floor. Without letting go of her hand, I reach for a chair and drag it over. I take a seat and finally give myself a chance to look her over. The doctor was right, I should have prepared myself for this but how could I? It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to see.

  Her skin is a collage of different shades of deep blues and purples, her beautiful blonde hair is mattered with dried blood making me furious that the nurses didn’t spend more time on her. There are cuts covering her body, her arm is… pure devastation and where that swollen belly used to be is nothing… just nothing.

  My heart continues to shatter with every second that passes.

  I never fully understood the pain of losing a child that hadn’t been born into the world but now I know. It’s nothing but pure agony. A feeling of complete and utter loss, a helplessness that there was literally nothing I could have done to protect him.

  I can’t help but think of all the things in life
he’ll miss. All the experiences and adventures that he won’t be able to take. The life that he won’t be lived to the fullest.

  I look to my wife and realize all the things that we, as parents, will never be able to experience with our little boy. The fights over who’s going to change his dirty nappies, the cuts and bruises Sophie will never get to kiss better, the monsters in his wardrobe that I won’t scare away. The bath times, the tantrums, the good night stories and teaching him to ride a bike.

  The list goes on and on but mostly, the love of being a family and raising a child, the chance of being a father… ripped away.

  Chapter 10

  Sophie

  I feel a hand twitch against mine and due to size and texture, I instantly know it’s Tank… Mmmm, my loving husband. What a freaking guy. I don’t know why he’s still home though, he usually leaves ages before I get up.

  I open my eyes, or at least, I try to but it seems a lot harder than usual. Ouch, why does it hurt so much?

  I let out a pained groan as my eyes register the sudden brightness of the room. Why the hell does Tank have the blinds open at this time of day? And why is it making my head hurt so much?

  Crap I must be getting sick. Perfect. Just what I need. I’ll have to schedule an appointment at the doctors just to make sure there’s no harm to my little guy.

  My eyes finally start adjusting to the room when I realize things are off. Way freaking off. The faint beeping in the background is my first giveaway. The clinical hospital room with my husband slouched in the chair beside me, definitely the big ‘shit ain’t right here’ indicator.

  I try to squeeze my hand in his but it feels too heavy. What the hell?

  “Tank,” I say, though it only comes out the smallest whisper. My throat instantly burns but at least it gets the job done.

  Tank flies out of his chair, wide eyed searching for some kind of threat before his eyes come down on me. Relief instantly washes over his features as he takes me in. “Babe?” he questions. “How are you feeling?” It’s then I notice his beautiful eyes are red rimmed like he’s been crying but that couldn’t be right. Tank doesn’t cry. He is the strongest man I’ve ever met.

  What’s going on?

  I try to answer but my throat is hurting too much. Tank reaches for a cup of water on the side table, I try to follow his movements but it makes the pain behind my eyes increase. Tank brings the cup up and guides the straw into my mouth.

  I take small sips and the cool water instantly helps the burning in my throat so I can at least talk.

  “I’ll call the doctor,” Tank says as he puts the cup back down.

  “Wait,” I whisper. His eyes come back to me with concern. “What happened?”

  Regret fills his features as he takes his seat and gently takes my hand in his. “Babe,” he starts in a soothing voice. “You were attacked.”

  The second he says the word ‘attacked’ it all comes rushing back with a force as great as being hit by a freight train. Holy shit.

  Christian Baxter. The men. The fists. The kicks.

  My baby.

  I let out a gasp but Tank continues. “We think it was a home invasion. Miller checked out our place and it’s completely trashed. The cameras were wiped so we can’t catch the guy,” he explains. “But don’t worry, I’ll get him. I’ll make sure he pays for what he’s done to you.”

  I start shaking my head as tears begin falling. I try to sit up but Tank is right there pushing me back down. “No, you need to stay still,” he tells me. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  “No,” I cry as something suddenly occurs. I try to lift my hands but they just won’t move. Why won’t they move? “Our son?” I question him as I haven’t felt him move inside me since I’ve been awake.

  Tanks eyes fill with sorrow as he looks to me. His head begins to shake and I can feel what the next words out of his mouth are going to be but I don’t want to hear it. I can’t. “No,” I cry. “No.”

  “Babe,” he whispers as he reaches forward and wipes a tear from my eye. “He didn’t make it.”

  My whole world comes crashing down around me and suddenly the pain my body is going through seems like nothing, in fact, I’d go through it all over again just to get him back.

  The tears come streaming down as the sobs begin. Tank leans forward and does his best to hold and comfort me but it’s not that easy in this hospital bed.

  How could my little boy be gone? My sweet angel just taken from this earth before he has even had a chance to live.

  My heart shatters and I know for a fact this is something I will never be able to live past. Never move on from. How am I supposed to go on from here?

  I can’t help but think this is all my fault. I insisted on investigating Baxter and look where that got me. Due to my selfishness, my son is gone.

  My actions are what have caused Tank to lose his little boy. How will he ever forgive me? He thinks it was a home invasion but when he realizes it was Christian Baxter’s thugs he will know it was me. My fault. My carelessness. When he realizes the truth, he will hate me and if he doesn’t, he should, the very sight of me should repulse him.

  Hell, I’m repulsed by myself.

  If only I had listened. If only I had backed off when he asked me to. But no, I had to chase another damn story for my own selfish desires. I should have been concentrating on my son, on making sure he was developing correctly, making sure I was eating the right things and getting enough sleep and exercise. Focusing on becoming a new mother.

  But no, that will never happen. I’ll never get the chance to be the mom I want to be and what’s worse is that I have robbed the chance for Tank to become the father he has always craved.

  All because I was chasing down a fucking criminal. A criminal with crimes that don’t even affect me.

  What the hell have I done?

  I don’t know how long I stay awkwardly wrapped in Tanks arms but I do know that I don’t deserve it. There’s a light rap at the door before a doctor makes his way in.

  “Ahh, good,” he says in a soothing tone. “You’re awake.”

  Tank pulls back from me to allow the doctor to come forward. He does a quick examination before jumping into a recap of my injuries but to tell the truth, I don’t hear a word he says. What does it matter anyway? I’m nothing without my son.

  He asks me how I’m feeling but he doesn’t get a response, only looks to Tank for confirmation, who lets him know he has just told me the extent of my injuries, in other words, broke the news to me that I killed my baby.

  The doctor gives him a nod before upping my morphine and exiting the room.

  Tank and I sit silently in the hospital room with my hand firmly in his. The morphine makes me feel sleepy but I know I need to tell him first. I need to admit to him that it was my fault and hopefully he’ll be able to forgive me but if anything, I know he should leave, especially after what I’ve just taken from him. The pain my actions have caused.

  He should find someone worthy of him, someone who would be able to give him a child without risking its life. Someone who is nothing like me.

  I let out a deep breath as I prepare to ruin our marriage. As much as I wish it weren’t true, I just don’t see how he will ever forgive me for this. “I have to tell you something,” I whisper as the shattered pieces of my already broken heart start to quiver.

  He looks up to me with concern as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “What is it, babe?” he asks, noticing the fear that laces my voice.

  My eyes travel down, unable to look at him as I come clean. “It wasn’t a home invasion,” I tell him.

  “What do you mean?” he questions, sitting forward and searching my face for some kind of answers.

  At this, I finally look up to him. “It wasn’t a home invasion. It was Christian Baxter.”

  His eyebrows pull down in confusion. “Christian Baxter?”

  I nod my head ever so slightly. “I’m sorry,” I cry. “He buzzed the gate and I didn’t lo
ok before I pressed the button. Then he was at the front door with two men. He barged his way in and said he knew what I was doing, what I was investigating. This was my warning to stop.”

  He lets go of my hand and I see the fury beneath his eyes. Those eyes that are usually warm are dead now, filled with anger and rage.

  Tank gets up from his chair and starts pacing the room. He stops and looks at me as his lips pull into a tight line. He lets out a huff before starting to pace again. “Fuck, Sophie. I told you not to,” he roars.

  The tears pool in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I tell him on a sob.

  He scoffs at my pathetic excuse for an apology, and so he should. From there, he doesn’t say another word and once again, we’re left sitting in absolute silence, though, this silence feels different, painful… final.

  It could be minutes or it could be hours but eventually, a head pops into the room and I instantly burst into tears. Dani comes rushing into the room as she desperately tries to hand Mia off to Miller. She climbs on the side of my bed as best she can and holds me as we both cry for my lost son.

  ----------

  “Sophie,” Tanks voice says over the cloudiness of my nightmare.

  My eyes spring open to find Tank standing above me, only he isn’t alone. Detective Andrews stand by his side, trying to look as intimidating as ever but I’ve known the guy for ages and he just can’t pull it off, well not with me anyway.

  “What’s he doing here?” I question Tank, after all, he knows just how much I hate this guy.

  From the look on Tank’s face, I already know what he’s going to say. “You’re going to hand over your investigation to Detective Andrews. You have no place looking into this further.”

  “But,” I start.

  “No. Sophie,” Tank cuts in. “There are no buts here. We’ve already lost our child. You’d be a fool to pursue it any further. I’m not going to let you risk your life for this guy. It’s not worth it.”

  I hear what he’s saying and I completely get where he’s coming from but now this thing with Baxter is personal. He came into my home, he ordered those men to touch me, he was the one who put me in this hospital and caused the death of my son.

 

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