Hostage: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 7)

by April Wilson

  Shane

  Am I supposed to pretend I can’t hear her crying? I can’t do it. Even with her face pressed against the pillow to muffle the sound, I can still hear her quiet sobs. And it’s tearing me apart.

  I don’t know how to help her. Should I make an appointment for her to see someone? A mental health therapist maybe? Should I talk to her obstetrician? I’m sure this kind of thing happens to new mothers occasionally. She’s been through a traumatic ordeal, and given how she’s prone to anxiety, this can’t be a total surprise. Laura suggested earlier that she might be experiencing post-partum depression, which is not uncommon, especially in mothers of preemies.

  Unable to bear the sounds of her sobs any longer, I rise from my bed to sit at the side of hers and lay my hand on her hip. “Beth?”

  The crying stops abruptly, but she doesn’t reply, and it’s too dark for me to see her face. I slide into her bed and pull her onto my chest, wrapping my arms securely around her. “You’re breaking my heart, honey. I can’t bear to hear you cry.”

  I kiss the top of her head, and I’m relieved when she slips her arm around my waist.

  “Sleep with me,” she says.

  “I will.” I let out a heavy sigh. “We’ll get through this, I promise.”

  * * *

  I awake around seven in the morning with Beth tucked closely into my side, my arms wrapped securely around her. There was no way in hell I was going to let her tumble off the too-small bed in the night. She’s still asleep, her body warm and soft against mine.

  After her crying spell last night, she slept peacefully until she had to get up and pump. She’s pumping about every three hours now, producing more milk each time and managing to keep ahead of Luke, who eats at about the same interval.

  Danielle, the night nurse, came into the room each time to help while Beth pumped and I fed Luke a bottle. I’ve been hoping Beth would try to nurse him again, but so far she’s been resistant to the idea.

  “Honey, he won’t learn how if you don’t give him a chance.”

  But she shakes her head, adamant. “He’s not ready yet. He’s too small.”

  I check the time and realize we have about fifteen minutes or so before Laura comes in to check on Luke. Already I can hear him stirring in the incubator, making a few quiet squeaks and squawks. He’s not fully awake yet, but I can tell he’s thinking about it.

  I hate to wake Beth up, but I need to make some calls. I need to call all the grandparents and invite them to come meet their grandson. I need to get Beth an appointment with her obstetrician today, if possible, for a check-up. And I have to talk to Jake about the meeting with Frank and Annie Elliot, which is scheduled for this afternoon.

  Unfortunately, I’m not going to be able to make the meeting with the Elliots—there’s no way I’m leaving Beth and Luke right now—so Jake’s going to have to meet with them for me. I hate throwing him to the wolves like this, but there’s no help for it. I have to take care of my family.

  Jake needs to be apprised of what’s going on. I’m not looking forward to that conversation, and I honestly don’t know how he’ll take it. Shit, he might refuse to talk to them, and in that case, I’ll need to assign the case to someone else.

  Luke escalates things with some light fussing and restless kicking. I slip out of bed so I can change his diaper and start a bottle warming for him. I’ll let Beth sleep a little longer.

  “Hey, little guy,” I say to my son, reaching into the incubator to stroke his arm. I run my finger tip down his arm to his little fist, and when I brush his fingers, his fist opens and closes on my finger, clenching it tightly. I smile. He’s got a pretty good grip for someone so tiny. “Are you hungry, buddy?”

  He stretches, his tiny limbs going in every direction with uncoordinated enthusiasm. He kicks his legs, blinking up at me with eyes so much like his mama’s it makes my chest hurt. “You know what? I can’t wait to get you and your mama home.”

  I change his diaper, and while the bottle’s warming, I carry Luke around the room, bouncing him in my arms and murmuring quietly to distract him.

  When Laura comes in, at the beginning of her day shift, I’m already seated in the rocking chair with the little guy, who’s demolishing his breakfast. The breakfast of champions.

  “Good morning,” Laura says, observing Luke sucking eagerly on his bottle. “Danielle said he did really well in the night. I’m glad to see he has such a strong appetite.”

  Laura glances at the bed, where Beth is still asleep. “Has she tried to nurse again?”

  I shake my head. “She’s afraid he’s too small to nurse.”

  “He’s not too small to try,” she says. “Babies at thirty-four weeks gestation are sometimes able to nurse. He just needs practice. He’ll catch on before you know it. The important thing is that she keeps trying.”

  I hear a rustling sound coming from the bed. When I glance over, Beth’s sitting up, pushing her hair out of her face and rubbing her eyes. She looks exhausted.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  She gives me a small smile. “Good morning.” Then she presses her hands to her breasts and winces. “I need to shower and pump. Badly.”

  “Do you need some help?” Laura asks.

  “No, thank you.” Beth swings her legs over the side of the bed. “I think I can manage on my own.”

  She grabs her overnight bag, and I watch as she shuffles slowly to the bathroom and closes the door behind her.

  Laura meets my gaze, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s easy enough to know what she’s thinking though. Beth didn’t stop to check on Luke. She didn’t even ask about him.

  “I’m taking her to see her obstetrician, for a check-up. That’s the first step—her physical health. Then we’ll deal with the rest.”

  Laura nods.

  After Luke finishes his bottle, Laura checks him over and reviews the overnight data from his monitors.

  Shortly after, Cooper and Sam arrive. Cooper scoops Luke up to cuddle him while I make my phone calls.

  “How’s my favorite little guy this morning?” Cooper says, bouncing Luke in his arms.

  I look at Sam, who rolls his eyes at me. “I think Cooper likes being a grandpa.”

  I smile. “I think you’re right.”

  * * *

  My parents are the first to arrive. When I hear a quiet knock at the door, I find them standing there, eager to meet their first grandchild. I step out into the hallway with them and close the door behind us.

  My mom, who’s holding a gift bag and a blue helium balloon that says It’s a boy, takes one look at me and says, “What’s wrong, honey?” She doesn’t miss a beat. “Is everything okay?”

  I blow out a long breath, unsure what to say, or where to start.

  My dad reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “Just spit it out, son.”

  “It’s Beth.”

  Mom’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Well, I do, but I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to help her. She’s very withdrawn, cut off from everyone and everything, especially Luke. She’s held him one time since we’ve been here. I think she’s depressed, and I know she blames herself for the premature labor.”

  “Blames herself?” Bridget says, frowning in confusion. “That’s ridiculous.” She sighs, the sound as melancholy as I feel. “I assume you’ve talked to her. That you’ve told her it’s not her fault?”

  “I have. So has Cooper. Now that I look back, I suspect she might have been in labor Saturday before we even left the apartment, and we just missed it. If anything, this is my fault. I should have insisted she get checked out before we left home.”

  “Why don’t you tell her that?”

  “That it’s my fault?”

  “Yes,” Bridget says. “When she hears it coming from your lips, she’ll realize how ridiculous it sounds, and that neither of you is to blame. It happened. The important thing is that Beth and Luke are both okay. And make su
re Ingrid knows about this. Sometimes a girl just needs her mom.”

  When we hear footsteps coming down the hall, we all three glance back to see Jake heading our way. And that reminds me of the next item on my to-do list—Annie. This is a conversation I’m not looking forward to.

  “You guys go on in,” I say to my folks. “I need to talk to Jake.”

  Bridget shoos me away. “Go talk to your brother. Your dad and I are going to dote on our daughter-in-law and grandson.”

  I motion for Jake to follow me down the hall. We duck into an empty visiting room.

  “How are you holding up?” he says.

  “I’m okay, but Beth is struggling, and I’m not sure how to help her.”

  “Just be there for her. Love her.”

  I chuff. “I’m trying. You make it sound so easy.”

  “At least you have the right to be there for her. We aren’t all so lucky.”

  He’s obviously thinking about Annie, and that brings me to the conversation I’m dreading. “There’s something you need to know.”

  Jake frowns. “What?”

  “Frank Elliot came to see me Friday afternoon.”

  “What?” Jake stares at me as if I’ve suddenly grown a second head.

  I nod, wondering what can of worms I’m about to open here. “He wants to hire us.”

  “To do what?”

  “Provide personal protection services. For Annie.”

  “Protect her from what?”

  “Her abusive husband. Or, rather her abusive ex-husband. They divorced three months ago, but apparently he’s still threatening her.”

  “Abusive?” Jake looks like he’s about to keel over. “How so?”

  “Frank said Ted’s physically abusive, as well as emotionally. He didn’t go into a lot of details. He wants it to come from Annie.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you over the weekend because I didn’t want you stewing over this. We’ll find out the details soon enough. But here’s the problem, I can’t make this meeting now. I need to take Beth to her doctor’s appointment.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take it from here,” Jake says. “You concentrate on your family. I’ll deal with the Elliots.”

  “You don’t have to be the one to handle this case, you know. I can assign it to someone else.”

  Jake scoffs, his expression filled with bitterness. “No. It has to be me.”

  “Jake, there’s more.”

  He frowns. “What?”

  “According to Frank, Annie isn’t the only one Patterson abused. You know they have a son, Aiden. It sounds like he’s been abused too.”

  “Jesus,” Jake says, his expression darkening ominously.

  I know how he gets when he looks like that. If Ted Patterson has any sense at all, he’ll stay the hell away from Jake and Annie.

  Jake takes his leave, clearly shaken by the news. I feel for him. Annie was his first, and only, love. She’s not only divorced now, but she needs protection. He’s not going to take this lightly.

  When I return to Luke’s room, I’m greeted by the sight of my mother rocking my son. There are tears in her eyes as she coos at him. My dad sits beside the rocker in another chair, his hand on my mom’s back as he looks on.

  I see Cooper and Sam, but there’s no sign of Beth. “Where’s Beth?”

  Cooper nods toward the bathroom, giving me a telling look. I get the distinct feeling my wife is hiding. I think she’s a little overwhelmed.

  I knock on the bathroom door. “Sweetheart? Would you like to go downstairs with me to get some breakfast?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Chapter 26

  Beth

  I jump at the chance to go down to the cafeteria with Shane. I’m not really hungry, but I’m grateful for the escape. Being around all those people is making me nervous. I feel like everyone’s watching me, judging me, and I know I’m falling far short of expectations.

  I’m glad Shane’s parents are here, and Cooper and Sam. Shane’s mom looked like she was in heaven as she rocked the baby. He looked so impossibly small wrapped up in his ducky blanket.

  My milk finally started coming in during the night, and I’m producing more each time I pump. That’s good, because the baby’s eating a little more each time, and I’m determined to keep ahead of him. Right now, I’m ahead two bottles.

  With promises to return soon, Shane and I head for the cafeteria.

  While we’re waiting for the elevator doors to open, he cups the back of my neck and I relax into his comforting hold and close my eyes. A moment of respite, just the two of us, which I desperately need.

  His arms steal around my waist and I feel his chin perch lightly on my head. “Did you sleep okay?” he says.

  I smile, remembering him climbing into bed with me in the night. “Yes. Thank you.” I sleep so much better when he’s near.

  “I love you.”

  I smile and melt into his embrace. “I love you, too.”

  The elevator doors open with a ding, and we step into the already crowded car. Shane pulls me close, tucking me under his shoulder. His fingers are warm on my waist as they slide beneath my top and stroke my skin.

  He doesn’t say much, but I can feel his eyes on me. I wish I knew what he was thinking. He was so sweet last night, holding me while I slept, chasing the bad thoughts away. And each time I got up to pump, he was there with me, handing me what I needed and seeing after the baby, changing diapers and warming bottles.

  “What sounds good for breakfast?” he asks when the elevator deposits us in front of the cafeteria. Shane takes my hand and leads me into the bustling restaurant. “Let me guess…decaf coffee and pancakes?”

  I smile. He knows me so well.

  “How about some eggs, too?” he says. “You need protein.”

  After getting our food, we find a table in front of a window overlooking a lovely flower garden and eat quietly, holding hands across the table. He seems to know I need some quiet time, as he doesn’t strike up any conversation, or worse yet, press me on anything.

  I know we can’t stay down here forever, hiding, but it’s nice to have a quiet moment of respite.

  * * *

  When we make it back up to the baby’s room, we have quite a room full of visitors, and I’m sure we’re probably breaking hospital visiting rules.

  Lia and Jonah stop by, and then Liam and Sophie come. My dear friend Gabrielle comes for a visit. And then Molly and Jamie. There’s a steady stream of people in and out of the baby’s room all day.

  Even with all the company coming and going, I manage to pump every few hours, and everyone’s only too happy to take a turn feeding Luke his bottle. My breasts are starting to feel better now, not quite so swollen and hot as I express more and more milk. At least there’s something I can do right.

  A couple times, the baby’s doctor comes to examine him and see how he’s doing. And his nurses are in and out of the room throughout the day, checking on him, monitoring his progress. He’s eating well, and he’s gained a couple of ounces since arriving at the NICU, which is good news.

  * * *

  That afternoon, we leave the baby under the watchful eyes of my mom and Sam and Cooper, while Shane and I go to my obstetrician’s office. While Shane signs me in, I find us two seats in a corner of the otherwise crowded waiting room.

  Shane joins me, taking my hand in his as he turns in his seat to face me. “How do you feel?”

  I shift carefully in my chair, wincing at the tenderness between my legs. There’s still a lot of healing that needs to happen down there. I can’t imagine ever having sex again. Just the thought makes me grimace. “I’m okay.”

  He frowns. “Can you be a little more specific? Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?”

  I nod. “A little. You try pushing a four-pound baby through a hole this big.” I make a circle with my fingers to approximate what I imagine is the maximum circumference of my vagina. S
hoot, sometimes taking Shane is a bit much for me, and he’s way smaller than a baby’s head.

  He bites back an amused grin, saying, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  His response makes me chuckle. “It’s not your fault. It’s the plight of all women who give birth. Blame it on the circle of life.”

  He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “I hate that you’re hurting. Physically, and emotionally.”

  My stomach tightens at the sorrow in his tone, and I don’t know what to say. I know I’m a disappointment. He deserves better. The baby deserves better. “I’m so sorry, Shane.”

  His eyes widen. “What? No!” He leans in closer, his mouth close to my ear. “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  I pull back, confused by his words. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been thinking about this, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you were already in labor when we left the apartment Saturday morning. Your backache that morning, the mild contractions... I dismissed them too easily. I should have insisted that you get checked out before we went anywhere. If I had, things would have turned out very differently. You would have given birth in a hospital, where you belonged, under professionally controlled circumstances, not in a dirty, dusty old attic. I’m so sorry, honey.”

  I can’t help staring at him, shocked. “It’s not your fault! Are you crazy? Neither one of us suspected I was in labor. It was way too early for that.” I reach up and grasp his jaw, holding him to face me. “Don’t you dare blame yourself!”

  Shane gives me a long, considering look, and I realize what he’s doing. “It’s not the same thing,” I say, my shoulders falling. “I’m the one who insisted on going away in the first place. I’m the one who had to stop and pee. It was all me. Stop trying to steal the blame.”

  He shakes his head and smiles as he runs his finger down the side of my face. “Do you have any idea how much I love you? I would take every pain from you if I could. I would suffer any torment for you. I refuse to let you torture yourself over things that aren’t your fault. Luke wouldn’t want you to.”

  “The baby—”

  He presses his index finger to my lips. “Beth?”