“What about Thomas Warren? He’ll want to see Amy.”
“He will, but let’s let the hospital decide when that should happen, huh?”
“Okay.” She hugged him again just because it felt so good to touch him. When they finally parted this time, she couldn’t help asking the question that had been on her mind since she’d heard the gunfire. “How the hell did you guys manage to get Warren out of there all on your own?”
He grinned and winked. “Ex-SEALs, remember? Can’t give away all our trade secrets.”
“Trade secrets?” Alisha rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny she was impressed. “Fine. I’ll see you at the hospital.”
Twenty
Two hours later, Simon finished talking to the cops. He filled them in on the details of the investigation he and Alisha had done into the Andronettos and their theories about Warren’s connection with them, culminating in the kidnapping he’d witnessed—and that Alisha had photographed. Fortunately, she’d forwarded those images to his phone so he was able to share them with the police. He also told them about Eddie and Jon’s involvement, though he was careful to stick only to what he knew for sure, leaving out conjecture that this thing went far deeper in the police department, since he still didn’t know who else might be involved. Hopefully, it would be enough for Internal Affairs to pick up where Simon had left off and root out the rest of the corruption in the department, but that remained to be seen. Mostly, he was grateful that everyone seemed to agree with his and Alisha’s decision to take Amy and keep her safe. Simon was relieved to learn that they wouldn’t be charged with kidnapping as long as they cooperated with the authorities when it came to returning the baby to her family.
He left police headquarters and took a cab to the Metro Hospital downtown where Warren was being treated for his injuries. On the way he texted Alisha and she met him there with Amy. They weren’t family, so getting information was tough, but luckily Rick was there too and got the details from his sister, who worked at the hospital.
“He’s in critical condition,” Rick said. “Beaten to within an inch of his life and took a bullet to the shoulder during our escape. But he’s stable and they’re prepping him for surgery now, so hopefully he’ll be out of the woods soon. The cops will have to wait to talk to him, though. Warren’s in no condition now. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m headed home to take a shower and have a much-needed beer.” He started down the hall, then stopped and turned back. “Oh, and Warren’s got a sister. Lives outside the city. She’s driving in to take care of the baby. She’ll be Amy’s temporary guardian until the mess with Warren is sorted out. Could be a while.”
“Right.” That last news felt a little like a sucker punch to his gut, but that was silly. Amy wasn’t their baby. They knew they’d have to give her back at some point. Still, he’d grown attached to her and it would hurt to say goodbye. He forced himself to smile and walked down to where Rick stood waiting for an elevator. Alisha followed behind him.
“Thanks again for your help, buddy,” Simon said, giving his friend a bro hug before stepping aside so Alisha could give Rick a real one. “We’ll be back at the apartment in a bit to get our stuff.”
“No hurry,” Rick said, waving as he boarded the elevator.
Alone, Simon and Alisha took a seat in a quiet waiting area. He kept hold of her hand. He didn’t want to let go. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She sat down and put Amy’s carrier on the seat beside her. Simon took the empty chair on the other side.
“So,” he said, for lack of anything better. “I guess we wait.”
“Yeah.” She reached over to play with Amy. “I’ll gather up Amy’s things at the apartment and make sure they’re ready to go.”
Simon watched her with the baby, unable to tell if Alisha was sad to say goodbye to Amy too. “I’m sure her aunt will take good care of her.”
“I hope so,” Alisha said, bending to kiss Amy’s head. “I’m going to miss her.”
“Me too.” Simon reached in and Amy latched on to his finger, flashing him a drool-filled smile. He didn’t trust people easily, but he had to trust that Warren’s sister was a good person, because what other choice did he have?
* * *
That evening, Alisha and Amy were back at the hospital with Simon, ready to hand the baby over to Warren’s sister. She seemed nice enough—early thirties, middle class, excited to take care of her niece.
Alisha hated to admit it, but she’d been kind of hoping the woman would be unfit somehow so they could justify keeping little Amy a bit longer, but no such luck. She forced a smile she didn’t quite feel as she handed the baby to her rightful guardian.
It was weird. Caring for Amy had been hard, even frightening at times, but she was glad she’d done it. Now it was time to refocus on writing her story about everything that had happened. The news never slept, after all.
“Bye-bye, Amy,” Alisha said, finding herself getting a tad choked up as she watched Simon kiss the baby and whisper something in her tiny ear. “Good luck.”
“Bye, baby girl,” Simon said, moving in beside Alisha as they watched the aunt walk down the hall with Amy’s carrier and get on the elevator. Just like that, the baby was gone.
For a few moments afterward, they both just stood there, like they weren’t sure what to do with themselves. Alisha was the first to recover, moving away to grab her stuff still sitting in the waiting area.
Simon trailed after her, his hands in his jeans pockets. “How are you feeling?”
“About what?” she asked him over her shoulder.
“About everything that’s happened.”
“I’m feeling like writing a kickass story about it.” She grabbed her bag and tossed her braids over her shoulders as she turned to face him. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Maybe we should take a break first. Take a moment to breathe and let it all settle. How about dinner?”
Her chest ached. Part of her wanted to get to the office and get to work right away on this potentially career-making story. But the other part of her would miss this little life they’d created together, even if it was all a fantasy. Would miss the loss of baby Amy snuggling up against her, and waking up in Simon’s arms each day and playing house with him. So yeah. Maybe dinner would be a good distraction from all of that, all those confusing emotions swirling inside her. “Okay. Dinner sounds good.”
Twenty-One
Unfortunately, dinner didn’t turn out to be the distraction she’d hoped. In fact, it turned out to be a lot of awkward silence, punctuated by meaningless small talk.
“How’s your burger?” he asked around a bite of his own.
“Good. And yours?” she returned, swallowing another mouthful of fries. Considering she hadn’t had anything since breakfast and she was eating for two, Alisha had no problem clearing her plate. Now if she could just clear the air between her and Simon so easily, she’d be all set.
“Fine.” He finished the last of his burger and pushed his plate aside, watching her over the rim of his soda glass. “What are you thinking about?”
Playing house with you. Instead she said, “Working through the story in my head.”
It was the partial truth, since she was always working through some story in her head.
“Yeah? What about it?”
The details flashed through her brain, some dots connecting, some not. She frowned and dunked another fry in ketchup, glad for a subject they could both dig into at last. “Like most of the stuff makes sense, but there’s still a few things that don’t. I like to have all my I’s dotted and my T’s crossed, you know?”
“I know.” He grinned and sat back as the waitress came to clear their plates. “So, what doesn’t fit? It all seems pretty clear cut to me. I told you I overheard them talking about a shipment coming in. I’ll bet good money it’s more bogus antiques for their next auction. I told the cops as much. I’m certain they’ll find all the evidence they need at that warehouse.”
“Maybe,” she said, finishi
ng her fries and thanking the waitress for the refill on her drink before frowning over at Simon.
“What?” he said. “You should be happy. You were right. And your editor will be so impressed, he’ll be sure to put you back on the crime beat. Exactly like you wanted.” He toyed with his straw wrapper on the table, twisting it around his finger. “Now, whether or not you take the job…”
Alisha gave him a look. “Seriously? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You know damned well I’ve worked my butt off to get back there.”
“I know.” He held his hands up. “I know. But I also know that it was your goal before you found out you were pregnant. Babies change things.” She started to object, but he stopped her. “I don’t want to argue about this again, Alisha. I just want you to think about it. Maybe there’s another beat that’s just as interesting and important as crime, where you can make a difference, but isn’t so dangerous. One that has more regular hours so your time can be more balanced.”
Alisha swallowed hard against the old defensiveness rising inside her. She hated to admit it, but Simon had a point. She was pregnant. She had eight months of pregnancy to go—months where getting around would become more and more difficult. She needed to be prepared for that.
Her goals might change. But was that what she wanted?
* * *
Simon’s heart sank at her suddenly sombre mood. Dammit. He hadn’t meant to upset her again, not after the day they’d both had. But they needed to have this talk, sooner rather than later. He decided to try a different tactic. “Listen, we took care of Amy for a few days and we seemed to do all right there, right?”
“Hmm,” she said, not really answering. Never a good sign. He sat back, giving up hope that he could get their conversation back on track, but then she continued. “We survived. But I’m not sure how all right we were.” She used air quotes to emphasize ‘all right.’ “Honestly, I didn’t feel successful at all. I didn’t feel like a good parent. Most of the time I was terrified I was screwing up.” Alisha shook her head. “I mean, when it came right down to it, we barely kept Amy safe. We could definitely have done a better job there.”
“Wait a minute,” Simon argued, not liking where this was going. “No one’s perfect. And we’re still learning. The more we care for a baby, the better we’ll be at it. After the experience we’ve gotten, I’m sure we’d make better decisions for our child.”
“Really?” She crossed her arms and stared at him across the table. “You think that a couple of days with a healthy, happy, well-behaved baby means we’re totally ready for anything? We didn’t even have to deal with the first three months, where the baby can’t sleep through the night, screams all the time, and doesn’t know how to smile yet.” She tossed her napkin on the table and started to get up. “Look, I know you’re not happy about me keeping my job, but I’ve been upfront with you the entire time about that. It’s my life and I’m not ready to change it yet. Right now, I’m thinking giving up the baby for adoption makes the most sense. I might change my mind—but I might not. It’s a decision I have to make, and you don’t get to choose it for me. And while we’re on the subject, what about you? Would you give up your writing career to take care of our baby?”
“Yes,” he said, too fast. Inside, a sickening feeling stretched tentacles through his body. Would he stop writing to care for their baby? He’d like to think he would. But then, the situations weren’t exactly parallel. He wrote from home, he set his own hours. He didn’t have to constantly rush out the door to chase a new lead, the way a journalist did—especially a journalist who was trying to make her name. It was true that he’d have to give up less if he added parenting into his life. But wasn’t that a good thing? If he could take on more of the parenting duties, that would lessen the burden on Alisha. Wasn’t that something they could at least discuss? But Alisha, he feared, wouldn’t compromise at all, making it tougher to find a solution. They’d made a baby together, but could they make a life that would work for both of them? He had to admit his doubts were deepening.
Still, he wasn’t a quitter and he refused to give up. Simon stood too, paying their check, then taking her wrist before she could walk away from him. “Hey, want to come back to my place and spend the night?”
She looked down at his hand on her arm, then tugged free. It felt like she was pulling away from him in more ways than one. “Actually, I think I’ll head back home to my place. I need some time alone to think through all this and decide what I want, how all this is going to work. I’ll call you later, Simon.”
Twenty-Two
The next day, Simon was busy repairing the damage to his apartment done by the shooter the week prior. The building manager had already boarded up the windows, but there was still glass everywhere and quite a general mess left around the place.
He'd just finished taking a heavy trash bag out to the dumpster when his cell phone rang. He answered as he let himself back into his apartment, not bothering to check the caller ID. “Stone.”
“Hey, man.”
It was Mike. His heart stumbled a bit. Things had been a bit awkward between him and his best bud since the bombshell news of the pregnancy. After getting the scoop from his sister, Mike had immediately called Simon to yell at him for nearly twenty minutes straight. With the way things had ended between him and Alisha the day before, Simon wasn’t sure this conversation would go any better. “Hey.” He walked to the kitchen to grab a bottled water and plopped down on his couch. “What’s going on?”
“I saw the news story this morning in the paper.”
Damn. Simon hadn’t thought it would run so fast. He’d figured it would take at least a day for Alisha to write it up and get it ready to print, but apparently not. “Sorry I didn’t let you know about it sooner, but—”
“Nah, it’s okay,” Mike said, his deep baritone cutting Simon off. “I just wanted to make sure things were all right with her and the baby still. I tried to call her earlier, but it went to voicemail, so I assume she’s busy with something at work.”
Yeah, busy was right. In order for the story to have gotten out in the morning edition, Alisha would have had to work all night. In fact, she probably went right from the diner last night to the newspaper office. Fresh annoyance buzzed inside him. He knew they had differing thoughts on her career aspirations, but Simon at least thought she’d try to take better care of herself considering her condition. The fact she most likely hadn’t slept—after twenty-four hours of nearly constant stress and danger—irked him.
“Buddy? You still there?” Mike asked after a long silence.
“Shit. Yeah. Sorry. I’m a little distracted.”
“I bet.” Mike chuckled. “So, how are things going with you and my sister and all this pregnancy stuff?”
Part of Simon wanted to gloss over it, keep their problems private. But man, he could really use someone to talk to about all this and who better than Mike, his best bud? Plus, if it helped them get over their earlier awkwardness, he was all for it. “Honestly, not so great.”
“Uh oh.” Mike’s tone was edged with concern now. “What happened?”
Simon filled him in on the timeline so far, including the ER visit and the ultrasound. Afterward, he felt just as torn and twisted as he had before. He rubbed his hand over the top of his hair and shook his head, leaning back into the overstuffed cushions on the sofa. “I’m at a loss at this point, man. I’ve told her how I feel, listened to what she thinks, and I’m not sure where we go from here. She’s dead set on sticking to the same career path she had pre-pregnancy. How in the hell do I and the baby fit into that?”
“Yeah, that’s tough.” Mike sighed. “Alisha’s ambitious. Always has been. But I think if she reaches the point where she embraces this pregnancy and motherhood, she’ll be just as ambitious about that too.” The sound of his chair creaking echoed through the phone line as he shifted his weight. “Considering our situation growing up, I can see why she might be unsure. I mean, I never took our mom b
eing gone so much as hard as Alisha did, but our personalities are very different. She seemed to see it like it was a rejection of her or something.” He took a deep breath. “That’s probably why she’s so independent now. She doesn’t want to need someone like that again. I’ve talked to her about it before, told her she can’t keep pushing everyone away to keep from getting hurt, but she never wanted to listen. Maybe now she will.”
That was a big maybe, at least in Simon’s mind. Alisha’s determination was one of the things he admired most about her, but not when it drove them apart.
“Anyway, don’t give up on her yet. Give her some time. It’s only been a few weeks since she found out she was pregnant and then you guys were off chasing bad guys, so the whole perspective is skewed.”
“True.” Simon yawned and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I just hate everything being so up in the air, you know?”
“I know.” Mike chuckled. “At least you got plenty of material for your new book though, right?”
“Yep. Now I just need to find time to write it.”
They chatted for a bit more about what was going on with Mike’s SEAL team and Simon’s plans with his publisher, then started to wrap things up.
“It’s good to talk to you, dude,” Simon said, sitting forward in his seat to rest his forearms on his knees. “I miss having you around every day.”
“Same.” Mike’s grin was evident through his voice. “And please stop worrying about my sister. At the very least, stop telling her you’re worried—it’ll only make her mad at you. Like I said, Alisha’s fiercely independent. She hates being told what to do.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Simon joked.
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