by Harper Sloan
“Mrs. Hutchins, how about this? We will put the cameras back up inside your home as well as his office for another two weeks and then reevaluate at the end of that time?”
She instantly brightens when I confirm that we aren’t cutting her loose. Shit. Axel’s going to flip.
“Darling, that is just perfect.” She makes a move to touch my arm and I pull back roughly.
After another five minutes of bullshit, she finally agrees to a time for us to come and reinstall the equipment in her home. Another pain in the ass, but this time I wouldn’t make the mistake of showing up alone.
“Swear to Christ, I’m ready to just say to hell with the ridiculous amount of money she’s paying us and cut her loose. She’s like a fucking parasite.”
I laugh at Axel and flip the lock on the front door. “Give her another two weeks of babysitting her monk of a husband and that’s it. If I weren’t in a rush to get to the baby shower the girls are throwing Melissa, I wouldn’t have even given her that.”
Axel follows behind as I make my way down the hallway and into my office to grab my keys and the files I need to go over at home tomorrow for the upcoming week.
“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know. Izzy almost took off my head when I told her I would be late for the shower,” he laughs, palming his keys and following me out the door. “That woman actually offered to ‘service’ me before you showed up. It’s a shame it isn’t the husband who hired us. Wouldn’t even take five minutes before we had a stack full of proof.”
“Pain in the ass. That’s all she is. But right now, I couldn’t care less,” I chuckle, pausing my steps off the sidewalk when my phone starts ringing. My brow pulls tight when Axel’s own cell starts ringing too. “Popular, I guess.”
He snorts and we both pull our phones out.
“Izzy,” he smiles.
Looking down and seeing Dee’s name across my screen has my stomach dropping. I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right as I stare at Dee’s smiling face on my phone.
I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer, but before I can speak, I notice Axel’s look of pure terror as he stands a few feet in front of me with his phone pressed against his ear.
That look alone is enough to have my body locking tight in stone-cold fear. Something is definitely very wrong.
“Cage,” I answer almost robotically.
“Greg! Oh, God. Greg . . .” She starts sobbing, and it takes every ounce of strength in my body to keep myself up and not crumpled into a mess on Sway’s golden sidewalk.
“Dee,” I gasp. There’s a simple reason for her to be upset. I’m sure it’s nothing.
“Hold . . . hold on. Let me . . .—let me put Beck on.” Her words wobble and her breath hitches a few times before I hear Beck take the phone.
“Listen to me, brother.”
I nod my head even though I know he can’t see me. My whole body is about to shut down. I just look at Axel and beg him to make my fears unwarranted. His normally tan skin is pale, and his eyes are concerned and . . . full of agony.
NO! No, oh God . . . NO!
“Greg, I’m going to tell you something and I want you to keep your shit together, no matter how hard this is going to be. Axel’s ready to help you. Let him.”
“Just say it,” I plead.
“There was an accident, Greg. Melissa and Cohen . . . Jesus, Cohen was taken by ambulance to the hospital. From what little I was able to get from one of the first responders on the scene, he’s not badly injured.”
I close my eyes. I know that my son is okay, but that relief is short-lived when I realize he’s stopped talking and hasn’t mentioned how my very pregnant wife is.
“John Beckett, you tell me right now that my wife, my fucking heart, is okay. Tell me right now that Melissa, Cohen, and my girls are okay!” I don’t even attempt to wipe the tears that are falling down my face. Axel clamps his arm down on my shoulder, offering his support.
“She had to be airlifted out, Greg. You need to let Axel get you to the hospital as soon as you can. It . . . it doesn’t look good.”
I drop the phone, hearing it shatter against the sidewalk, and it isn’t until I’m sitting in Axel’s truck while he speeds down the interstate that I realize those terrifying wails I hear are coming from me.
CHAPTER 8
Melissa
Two Hours Earlier
I hate that Greg won’t be with me for the shower. I know he said that he would try his best, but knowing why he got called in is making me crazier. Or I should say who is behind the reason he was called in. Everyone knows how that terrible Mrs. Hutchins is. She has her sights on all the men at Corps Security. I wouldn’t even be shocked if she has tried to get some action from openly gay Davey. Greg’s told me over and over how frustrating she is, and I know he’ll be there longer than he wishes.
I don’t pretend to understand why they keep her on as a client, but I trust my husband, so I’ll give him the support he needs, even if I wish he were by my side right now.
I pull up to the intersection, adjusting my belt so that it doesn’t keep digging into my belly, and take a deep breath. It doesn’t do me any good to stress over a situation I can’t control. I know it’s my hormones making me insane. Seriously, I know that Greg doesn’t have any interest in a baby shower. Hell, if I weren’t the one with enough emotional crazy rushing through my veins right now, I would probably laugh at a husband being dragged to a shower for his pregnant wife. I know he doesn’t care; he’s just doing this because I want him there.
“Mommy, will I get presents too?”
I look away from the light a few cars ahead of me, still red, before looking up and focusing on Cohen’s reflection in my rearview mirror.
I smile from just looking at his messy brown hair a few weeks past due for a cut, tousled just the way Greg’s always is these days. His brown eyes, always bright with unshed energy, and that crooked smile never fail to melt my heart. I instantly want to start sobbing with the strength of my love for this little guy.
“Mommy, your face looks funny like it does when you cry. Are you going to cry? I don’t have to get presents. I can wait till my birthday if you forgot them. Will Aunt Izzy have cake? I like leopards. Can we get my girls some leopards to match their sheets in their beds?” His smile gets bigger and he shakes his head rapidly.
“I love you, you know that?” I ask, smiling at him one more time before returning my eyes to the road when I see the light turn green.
“I know. I’m awesome.”
“Yes, you sure are.” I laugh, waiting for the car in front of me to go. I swear, traffic is a mess today. Apparently everyone and their mothers have somewhere they have to be.
“Can we buy a boat? I hope Aunt Izzy got a big cake. I’m going to eat it all up and get big like Maddox Locke.”
“Cohen, you are so silly. Why don’t you just call him Maddox?” Cohen’s been calling Maddox by his full name for so long now that it’s almost slipped out from my own lips a few times. Everyone thinks it’s the cutest thing ever, but honestly, it’s just another weird little piece of Cohen logic that helps make him the coolest kid around.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because Maddox Locke is cooler, and it makes me smile. Maddox Locke is funny. He told me that one day I’m going to be a big boy and I need to watch how Daddy acts so that I can be the bestest man in the whole world, just like Daddy. He says it’s the key to being a superhero. Maddox Locke keeps his secrets all locked up. He told me that. But sometimes he unlocks his secrets and tells me some. So he’s my Maddox Locke.”
I have to take my eyes off the road and look at him. I’ve never noticed him and Maddox having conversations long enough for all that. Maddox is, for the most part, quiet and pensive. I’ve always known that he holds some deep pain, and while it’s no secret with the girls that he’s got a seriously secret soft side, this is the first I’ve heard of him and Cohen bonding like this.<
br />
“You know, he might be onto something there.”
“I know.”
I smile, focusing my attention back on the road when we finally start making some progress through the intersection that’s been backed up for a while now.
“Uh, they need to do something about all this traffic,” I mutter under my breath. They’ve been working on this intersection for what seems like years. The light that was a last-ditch effort to relieve some of the congestion seems to be making it worse. No one pays attention to anything.
Right when I’m about to cross over the intersection, I hear a loud horn followed by Cohen’s scream in the backseat. Checking the car in front of me, seeing that it’s a good distance ahead, I don’t even get my eyes to the rearview to check the one following before I see it.
Just out of the corner of my eye, I see the flash of red before I hear the twisting, bending, moaning, and screaming sounds of metal and glass colliding. I can feel the tiny pieces of glass that fly from my window piercing my skin. My seatbelt pulls tight and digs into my skin. Every inch of my left side is on fire, burning in a way that makes my vision dim.
It takes only a second, but in that second, I think about the little boy in the backseat, praying that he’s okay and unharmed. I pray that the little girls still growing in the safety of my belly aren’t affected. And I think about the handsome man who isn’t going to be okay if anything happens to his family.
“Co-hen . . .” I gasp when the car stops moving. My brain fights to understand where I am and why I can’t open my eyes. Fighting every single fiber in my being that tells me to just let go and fade away.
I struggle to stay awake; I try to fight the pain and the fear. I beg my body to move, to stop just lying here and get to Cohen. He needs me, and I need to know he’s okay.
I know it isn’t going to be long now. I can feel my body slowly going numb, and the overwhelming pain starts to wash away when each part of my body becomes a stranger to me. My eyes keep rolling around in my head like they aren’t attached anymore. My vision fades from color to black and gray, the webs of nothingness closing in and pulling me away.
“No . . . Co . . . hen . . . love.”
Right before I feel the numbness crawl into my head, I hear the sweetest sound in the world.
I hear Cohen return my love. And even though he’s crying, I know he’s alive and that he knows that I love him.
CHAPTER 9
Greg
The ride to the hospital is a complete and total wash. I don’t see a single mile. I don’t feel anything except soul-crushing pain. My family, my reason for living, is beyond my reach, and I wasn’t there when they needed me.
My mind passed rational thinking about ten miles ago. Beck’s words still echo like a badly scratched CD through my mind.
Accident.
It doesn’t look good.
Airlifted.
I can feel the fear taking over. It doesn’t matter how many times I beg and plead, pray and beg some more, I feel like I lost a piece of myself when he spoke those words.
Not knowing and fearing the worst but grasping on to that sliver of hope that keeps bursting through the darkness is the only thing keeping me from crumbling.
That and knowing that Cohen’s going to need me . . . and I’m going to need him.
“We’re almost there, brother.”
Axel doesn’t need me to respond. Hell, I’m not even sure if I could at this point.
The second I see the turn off for the hospital, I sit a little straighter in the seat. When I see the brick of the building pop through the trees, I lift my hand to the door handle. The second I feel his truck slowing, I unsnap my belt. And right when I see the doors to the emergency room, my door’s released and I jump from the cab.
Luckily, Axel had already been slowing when I leaped from his moving truck, so there wasn’t any resistance when I landed and took off at a dead sprint for the glass doors.
I can hear Axel screaming and cursing behind me, but I don’t even pause. My body is driving me since my mind refuses to think. The only thought I’m capable of at this point is finding my boy and then my wife.
The little old lady sitting at the desk visibly shrinks back when I all but break down the wall to get into the hospital. Her eyes widen for a second before she catches herself and wipes her expression clear.
“Can I help—”
“Melissa and Cohen Cage. My family . . . please,” I gasp, not even giving her the time to finish. I can feel the cool air on my wet cheeks, my tears once again flowing freely.
She looks down, glancing back up at me quickly before returning her eyes to her computer.
“Sir, I don’t see—”
I sag with relief when Axel speaks from my side. “Melissa Cage, ma’am. Brought in by helicopter approximately fifteen minutes ago. Her son, also his son, Cohen Cage, should be arriving by ambulance either shortly after her or soon. Please, make the call and find out where he can find his family.”
Even with his hand grasping my shoulder again, I can’t feel it. That solid strength that he’s trying to pass through to me is completely lost to my panic. I look around, praying that I’ll see Melissa and Cohen in one of the many chairs around the room. Praying that this is some sick joke and my family is okay.
“Greg, let’s go.”
“Huh?” I look over at Axel’s concerned expression, realizing that I missed the rest of his conversation.
“Let’s go. Cohen’s already here being seen and this nice nurse here, Lucy, is taking us to where he is.” He points over to the nurse who’s standing next to the desk, looking at me with the same expression of concern that Axel has on his face.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. The second I hear that I am about to hold my boy, I feel my heart start beating a little faster. Knowing that they wouldn’t be taking me to him if he were badly injured is helping my fear recede some.
I watch the young nurse’s ponytail sway with each rapid step she takes. I keep wanting to run past her and scream Cohen’s name until I find him, but each time my pace gets too heavy, Axel clears his throat and grabs my arm. I feel like punching him in his goddamn arm for making me walk at this ridiculous pace. We should be running—hell, sprinting—through the halls.
“Right in here, Mr. Cage,” Nurse Lucy states, opening the door to one of the emergency rooms.
I take a step toward the curtain that’s pulled closed. I can hear movement, but I haven’t heard my boy. I still feel the adrenalin pumping rapidly through my body, demanding that I rush, but now that I’m faced with not knowing what’s on the other side of this blue barrier, I’m paralyzed in fear.
“Go. Now. I’ll find someone who can give you some information on Melissa and go back out to the waiting room to see if anyone else is here yet.” Axel gives me a shove before walking back down the hallway we just came down.
With a deep breath, I reach out and open the curtain. I couldn’t have helped the sob that bubbles out audibly if I tried.
“Daddy!” His voice wobbles, and his chin quivers.
With one word, my body wakes up and I all but fall to his side. The nurse standing at his side jumps out of my way and allows me to fall to my knees next to the hospital bed that is all but swallowing his small body whole.
“Oh, God . . . Cohen.”
“You can hold his right hand, sir. We’re just about done with his left side.”
I pull my eyes from Cohen’s for the first time since opening the curtain and notice another person in the room working on stitching up part of his forearm. I can’t see much more because of the angle, but I can see the amount of blood surrounding him, and it feels like a knife has just shot through my heart.
I don’t even look up at the other nurse I almost ran over. I pick Cohen’s hand up and press it to my lips, breathing in his scent.
“I couldn’t help Mommy.” His hand squeezes mine tight, his body shaking so hard that he’s vibrating the bed.
“It’s ok
ay, baby. It’s okay. Mommy’s tough. She’s going to be just fine.”
Looking into his eyes, which are normally so full of life, and seeing the pain, fear, and stark, cold terror, I know he doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth. If I’m honest with myself, I know that I sound more like I’m begging than I am reassuring.
“Miss? Is there any way I can get some information on his mother? My wife? She was in the accident as well.” I look into Cohen’s scared eyes, thankful that he’s here and keeping me from tearing this hospital to the ground until I find Melissa.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any information on the other person in the vehicle. Let me go see what I can find out.”
It feels like an eternity while I sit there with Cohen, watching them stitch up different parts of his left arm. From what I can see, the worst of his injuries seem to be the millions of little cuts on almost every open surface of skin on his left side. He seems tired but otherwise just really banged up.
I take the first real breath I’ve breathed since I got Beck’s call earlier.
Now I just need to know that Melissa and the girls are okay. It is literally killing me with each second that audibly ticks away from the clock in the corner. Without knowing, every single one of those seconds begins to feel like hope flying farther and farther away from my grasp.
It isn’t long after they finished cleaning all his cuts and stitching up the deeper ones that Cohen fell asleep. I know it’s the crash from the adrenalin and the pain medication that they gave him, but I hate it. I want to be able to see his eyes and know that he’s okay.
I keep one hand around his and the other placed lightly on his stomach so that I can feel his breaths causing it to rise and fall.
And I wait.
I almost jump out of my skin when the door finally opens again and a forty-something doctor enters. His expression doesn’t give anything away as he walks farther into the room, stopping at the foot of Cohen’s bed. I stare into his dark blue eyes, both praying for the best and fearing the worst.