“So,” Taylor began. “You’re a fed. Thomas is a fed, and this is all because of some case you’re working on?”
Travis took a deep breath, looked at Agent Blevins and Agent Davies, and then emptied his lungs. “Fuck it.” He sat down next to Dad, resting his elbows on his knees, and put his hands together like he was praying, touching his fingers to his lips. He sat up. “I was there that night … when the building at Eastern caught fire. I’d talked Trenton into staying with Abby while I went toe-to-toe with John Savage. It was a small basement. Too small for a final fight. We’d almost been busted once, so Adam wouldn’t allow any lights. We just had a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling. There was …” he trailed off, remembering, “furniture covered in sheets lining the room and the main hallway. A lantern fell, and the whole place went up in flames in seconds. I was separated from Abby and Trent, and I had to go find them. I found Abby, but didn’t find Trent until later. Scariest night of my life.”
I sunk back, realizing I’d been lying for years, too. I’d lied to the FBI about being in the building when it caught fire, and only Travis and Abby knew that I’d left Abby because I was scared. I waited for him to out me.
Travis continued, “A lot of kids died that night. Adam was arrested. I knew I was next, even though Abby had concocted a plan for us to go to Vegas and get married to try to make it seem like we weren’t.”
America looked up at Travis. “You knew about that?”
I looked down. I knew about that, too, and kept it from him. Fuck, now I’m a hypocrite. I thought we were a tight family. Turns out we were just spiders caught in our web of lies. I felt my face flush. The anger was returning.
“How could I not? She suddenly wanted to run off to Vegas an hour after we’d escaped a fire. After our classmates had died? Either she was crazy, callous, or concocting a plan. Whichever it was, I was desperate to be her husband. I ignored it. Probably not the most honest thing to do. Thankfully,” he said, gesturing toward Abby’s room, “it worked out.”
“But that agent,” I said. “He came to the house. He was asking about you. They didn’t just buy the Vegas wedding story, did they?”
“I was given a choice,” Travis said.
“But why you?” Tyler asked. “Why not Adam … why—”
“Mick Abernathy,” Dad said.
“I’m not sure if you’re lucky or not,” Taylor said.
“So how does Tommy fit into all of this?” I asked. “He was a fed before that. Long before that, I’d guess.” I looked at Camille, who was still staying maddeningly quiet. “Even now?” I asked her. “It’s all coming out, and you’re just going to sit there … loyal to him?”
“She couldn’t tell you, Trent,” Travis said. “It was a safety issue.”
I stood, looking around, holding out my hands. “Because we’re all safe now? Awake at three a.m. with two … sorry, three feds babysitting us to make sure whoever you pissed off doesn’t gun down our kids?”
“I know it sounds bad, and I understand you’re angry. And it’s not over yet. I’m sorry, Trent, I really am. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
Travis being so patient and calm only made me angrier. I took a step toward him, but Camille stood between us.
“Trenton!” she yelled, holding up her hands.
“Travis, go back to your wife,” Dad said. “Trenton, sit your ass down. Now. We’re not going to understand tonight, and we don’t have to. What’s important is keeping our family safe.”
I grudgingly sat down, obeying my father. He was feeble. Not nearly the intimidating man I remembered from my childhood, but he was my dad, and he deserved my respect.
Camille took a few steps toward me, asking permission without using words. I scooted over and held out my arm, and she rushed to sit next to me, burying her face in my neck and wrapping her arms around my middle. Deep down, I knew her keeping Thomas’s secret wasn’t a matter of her choosing to be loyal to him or honest with me, but it was hard to push that completely from my mind. I hugged her to my side, but only because I refused to let a seven-minute-old feeling of betrayal overshadow the love I’d felt for Camille for most of my life.
“Is Abby sleeping?” Ellie asked.
“She can’t,” America answered. “She wants to see Carter. They’re supposed to tell us soon when she can.”
“I’d like to see her if I can,” Ellie said.
“Me too,” Falyn said.
Travis gestured for them to follow, and they trailed behind him. Falyn turned to me with an unmistakable warning glare not to upset Camille while she was gone. I sighed and kissed my wife’s hair. She was quietly sniffing, her body jerking against me. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say it was going to be okay. I didn’t know if it would be or not. I wondered what new heartbreak the next day would bring and how much more our family could take.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TRAVIS
I WALKED INTO ABBY’S BIRTHING SUITE with Falyn and Ellie, instantly regretting bringing anyone but Carter. My wife’s face lit up for a fraction of a second, and then she tried to hide her disappointment with her sweet smile.
“We can go see him in a few minutes,” I assured her.
Abby’s hair was barely sprouting out of a low ponytail. Pieces had fallen out to frame her face. Her eyes were still red from delivery and then the tears after. I’d never seen her as devastated as the moment they took our son away.
“He’s beautiful,” Ellie said with a smile.
“You saw him?” Abby asked. She sat up on the bed and tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear.
“In the hall. He’s just at the end of this wing,” Falyn said.
“That’s comforting.” Abby’s eyes began to gloss over, and she looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears.
“It’s okay to cry,” Ellie said, taking the chair closest to the bed. “You’ve had a long day. You’re exhausted. Your hormones are going nuts.”
Abby wiped her cheeks. “I don’t want to cry.”
I sat down on the bed next to her, holding her hand. Several pieces of tape secured her IV that was now delivering antibiotics to stave off the infection that had caused her premature labor. She’d tried everything to get her contractions to slow down naturally, but the harder she tried, the more intense and closer together they were. When the doctor told her we were going to have a baby, she broke down. She had such a normal delivery with the twins, we were surprised that a single birth was anything but a breeze.
I knew more than just the infection was to blame. She also had the added stress surrounding my fucking job. Not only was I going to devastate my family to protect them, but it had put my wife and newborn son in danger. I was going to find a way to walk away from the FBI after this. Thomas and I would be lucky if our family was still intact.
“Stop,” Abby said, seeing the expression on my face. “There was nothing we could do. It’s just one of those things.”
“And he’s okay,” Ellie said. “He was wailing like a banshee all the way down the hall. Strong lungs with the temper of a Maddox. He’s golden.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to take him home?” she asked, suddenly hopeful.
I patted her hand. “Probably not. Not right away, anyway. But let’s wait for an update from the NICU before we get too upset.”
“You mean before I get too upset,” she said.
I raised her hand to my lips and closed my eyes. The guilt was almost too much to bear. I was glad Dad had stepped in when he did with Trenton because I was desperate to go back to the days when I could punch my way out of things. Nineteen seemed like a lifetime ago, and quite frankly, adulting blowed. It was so much easier to lose my shit and start swinging rather than to listen to Trenton being an insecure dick stick and having to be the bigger person when all I was trying to do was save his life.
“Baby,” Abby said, watching as my inner turmoil began to seep out.
“Trenton found out about the FBI,�
� Ellie said. “And that Cami already knew. He’s taking it pretty hard.”
Abby looked at me. “He’s taking it out on you.”
“Who else is he going to take it out on?” I grumbled.
Abby’s fingers intertwined in mine. “Just a little longer.”
I nodded, knowing we couldn’t say any more in front of Ellie and Falyn.
Abby recounted the moments of her labor and delivery, and they all cried again when she detailed watching the nurses wheel Carter out of the room. The sisters hugged, and then Ellie and Falyn returned to the hall outside the waiting room to check on their families.
Abby sighed, resting her head back against her pillow.
“Want me to lay the bed flat?” I asked.
She shook her head, wincing and pressing gently on her abdomen. “You should try to sleep. You’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“You mean today?”
Abby looked up at the clock on the wall. “Liis will land in a few hours. The nurse said the recliner lays nearly flat.”
I stood up and nodded, walking around the hospital bed to the mauve recliner nearby. The nurse had already set a couple of folded blankets and a pillow in a stack on the seat. The recliner made a scraping sound against the floor as I pushed it closer to her bed. I sat down and shook out a blanket, pulled the lever, and leaned back.
Abby used the remote to turn out the lights, and for a few precious moments, it was quiet. Just as I felt myself drift off, the door opened, and I could hear the nurse swishing around the room. She turned on the dim overhead lamp just above Abby’s bed.
“Hi there, Mrs. Maddox. I thought you might want to try pumping.” She lifted a small machine with tubes and what looked like a mini air horn.
Abby looked horrified. “Why?”
“Carter isn’t going to be strong enough to suckle just yet, so we’ll have to feed him through a tube. We have a special preemie formula, but if you prefer, your milk is best. Is that something you’d like to try?”
“I …” she trailed off, looking at the pump. It was completely foreign to her. She’d breast-fed our twins, but she stayed at home, so she’d never used a pump. “I’m not even sure if I have anything to pump.”
“You’d be surprised,” the nurse said. “His stomach is smaller than a marble, so he won’t need much.”
“And it’s okay with the antibiotics?” she asked, holding up her hand. I was so proud of her. Even exhausted, Abby thought to ask questions that wouldn’t even cross my mind.
“Completely safe,” the nurse said.
“Oookay,” Abby said. She listened as the nurse gave her instructions. When we were alone again, she looked at the tubes and container with contempt.
I sat up. “Want me to help?”
“Absolutely not,” she said.
“I can just—”
“No, Travis. If I’m going to have to sit here with this thing on me like a milk cow, you’re not going to help. You’re not going to watch.”
“Baby, it’s not a bad thing. You’re doing it for our son.”
“It just feels very … personal.”
“Okay,” I said, leaving the pile of blankets behind in the recliner. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll come back in fifteen. Need anything before I leave?”
“Nope.”
“Good luck, Pidge.”
Abby used the mini air horn as a thumbs-up, and I chuckled, willing to do anything to have a light moment in all of this. I closed the curtain and then the door behind me, and returned to the hall in front of the waiting room where my family was. Camille was sitting alone on a bench.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“The nurse brought cots. They’re all sleeping in the waiting room except for Dad.”
“Where’s he?”
Camille nodded her head toward a birthing suite, and immediately, I heard the familiar Jim Maddox snore. He would breathe in through his nose, and then his cheeks would fill with air before it finally pushed through his lips.
“He talked them into giving him a room?”
“He was afraid his snoring would wake the kids. He insisted on having his cot out here, but the nurses caught wind of it, and you know ... Everyone loves Jim.”
“Aren’t you tired?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t think Trent wants my company.”
I sat down next to her. “Cami … you know he loves you. It’s a lot to process all at once.”
“I know,” she said, wringing her hands. “The thing with Thomas and me … It’s been festering just beneath the surface all these years. I knew it would come out eventually, and I knew he’d be angry. I just didn’t expect to feel this much guilt.”
“Because you don’t want to see him hurting.”
“No, I don’t.”
I looked down at the ground. “No one’s going to escape it this time.”
“Have you heard from Liis? Any updates?”
“No,” I said. It was the truth. I didn’t need any updates. I knew exactly what was going to happen.
“They said she was flying in. Isn’t that weird she would do that? While Thomas is recovering?”
“She has a new baby, and …” I trailed off. I didn’t want to lie anymore, and the worst was still ahead.
Camille grew quiet. “He didn’t make it, did he? She wants to tell us in person.” When I didn’t answer, Camille stared at me until I faced her. “Tell me, Travis. Is he dead?”
“You want to keep more secrets from Trenton? What if he finds out you knew something about Tommy before him? Again?”
“Just tell me,” she said. “I deserve to know.”
“More than anyone else?”
“Trav. I’ve been protecting his secret for him for years.”
“And look where it got you.”
Camille thought about my words and sat back. She closed her eyes, appearing pained. “You’re right.”
I stood up, leaving Camille alone with her quiet tears. As I walked away, I was surprised to feel even heavier than before. That would have been one less person I would’ve had to destroy. I froze in the hallway, in front of Abby’s door, realizing we would have to tell the kids. My kids. I would have to look them straight in the eye and tell them their uncle was dead.
I closed my eyes, wondering how I could ever explain why they couldn’t lie later in life. How could they ever trust me after that? I pushed open the door just as Abby was screwing the lid on the milk container.
“How did it go?” I asked.
She paused. “What’s wrong?”
“The kids,” I said.
She jerked up. “What about the kids?”
I sighed. “Fuck. No, I’m sorry. They’re fine.” I sat next to her, gathering the pump and tubing in one hand, the container in the other. I kissed her forehead. “They’re fine. It just hit me that we’re going to have to tell the kids about Thomas.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide. “They’ll be heartbroken.”
“And then … later …”
Abby covered her eyes, and I hugged her. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“They’ll never trust us again.”
“Maybe they’ll understand.”
Her eyes filled with tears for the dozenth time that morning. “Not for a long time.”
The nurse knocked on the door, her short blond hair bouncing. “Good morning,” she whispered.
“I couldn’t get much,” Abby said as I handed the nurse the equipment and container.
The nurse held it up and narrowed her eyes then smiled. “It’ll do. He’ll be a happy boy.”
“Can we see him?” Abby asked.
“Yes,” the nurse said, pointing at her. “Right after you get some rest.”
“We’ve been trying,” I said.
“Not a problem. I’ll make a note. Do not disturb.”
“Unless,” Abby began.
“Unless something comes up. Yes, ma’am.”
The nurse closed the door behind her, and I settled back into the recliner.
Abby turned off the light above her, and except for the sunrise peeking through the edges of the blinds, it was dark. The birds were chirping, and I wondered if I would ever sleep again.
“I love you,” Abby whispered from her bed.
I wanted to crawl into her bed with her, but the IV made that precarious. “I love you more, Pigeon.”
She sighed, the bed crinkling as she settled in.
I closed my eyes, listening to Abby’s breathing, the IV pump, and the obnoxious bird happily singing outside. Somehow, I slipped beneath the waves of consciousness, dreaming that I was lying next to Abby for the first time in my college apartment, wondering how in the hell I was going to keep her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHEPLEY
AMERICA HELD MY HAND, pulling me through Abby’s hospital room doorway. It smelled like bleach and flowers, exactly why I was glad America had our last two boys at home. Hospitals gave me the heebie-jeebies, pretty much just holding bad memories for me. Mercy Hospital was the setting for the times I remembered going with my parents to see Diane, when I broke my arm, when Trenton got into that bad car accident with Mackenzie and again with Camille. The only good memories I have of Mercy Hospital were when Ezra and then Travis and Abby’s twins were born.
“Hi,” Abby said with a smile, embracing America when she bent over for a hug.
“You look so good!” America said, repeating the phrase every postpartum mom wants to hear.
Abby beamed. “They’re taking me to see him soon.”
“Good,” America said, sitting next to her. She held her friend’s hand. “That’s good.”
There was an elephant in the room. The four of us had been close since the first night Abby came to my apartment with Travis. It wasn’t like them to keep things from us. At least, that’s what I’d thought. America and I had several conversations about how the FBI seemed to have forgotten about Travis’s involvement with the fire, how the questions and the suspicion stopped. And then the weird moment the morning after Travis and Abby’s wedding in St. Thomas when he was so upset he couldn’t speak. That was it. That was when it happened. Thomas had given him an ultimatum.
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