And the phone was locked. She had no way of opening it, except…his fingerprint. She just had to press his thumb to the surface to unlock it.
Drying her face on her sleeve, she reached for his hand. When the phone lit up, she nearly dropped it seeing Harden’s name as the missed call on the screen. She almost dropped it again when she called him back and he answered.’
His voice was a lifeline in the dark she latched onto, yet she almost believed it was too good to be true. “Harden?
“Baby! Where are you?”
She broke, grief ripping her apart. “He’s dead.”
“Who’s dead, baby, and where are you?”
“Quincy’s dead.” The tears and sorrow came again.
“I’m leaving Catalyst and on my way to get you right now—”
“No!” she screamed, desperate to be free. “Don’t leave me! I’m here. At Catalyst. Trapped.” She coughed hard enough to bring up a lung.
“Where!”
“The staircase.” She wheezed. “The one down the hall from the lockers. We were trying to make it to the garage when everything exploded. Quincy was already wounded, but we would’ve made it. We were almost there when the ground collapsed beneath us.”
“Shit! I was there earlier. I was there. I even looked at the staircase. Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. I’m on my way. Hold on.”
Relief was short-lived when the wisp of smoke filling the small area thickened. Her throat went raw and she couldn’t stop coughing. She heard him shouting something to someone, a fireman she guessed when she heard the response. But then she started hacking.
“Jentry!”
Her name was a whisper when she knew he screamed it. “Harden.” She coughed. “Help me.”
“Hang on, baby. I’m coming.”
∞∞∞
Harden ran into the garage. Hands grabbed him, holding him back. “My woman is stuck in the south staircase.”
The captain separated from the group of firemen milling around the front of the building, behind the policemen and bomb squad members streaming out of the building with black smoke dogging their heels. “You sure about that?”
Harden tapped the speaker button and Jentry’s sobs filled the space between them. Her cries gutted him. He ran around the building to the garage. Firemen and police were there too trying to stop him. He cut between them and ran toward the south staircase with the firemen and police following.
“Hold on, baby! I’m coming.” She answered with a raspy cough.
Rounding the corner, he spotted the dumpster he climbed out of and the staircase a few feet away with the yellow taped body laid out in front of it. Everyone stopped except Harden.
“Hey! That’s a crime scene. We can’t disturb the body until—”
Harden stepped over the dead man and rushed to the twisted metal door. “Jentry!” He banged on the door, then gripped the frame and tried to pry it open. Pavel and Leonid were next to him, each gripping a section, until firemen replaced them and ordered him to step aside. The one doing the ordering held the Jaws of Life.
He couldn’t get her out with his bare hands. He didn’t have the power or the skill.
“Jentry. I’m here. Firemen are here. We’re getting you out, baby. You hear me?” Phone pressed to one ear, finger stuck in the other, he strained to catch her voice, praying to hear her.
“Hurry.” Her raspy voice reached across the distance separating them and gave him hope though he watched, helpless to do anything as the metal door protested. It hung on to its hinges, twisted yet persistent to remain in its new form.
“Talk to me, Jentry. Tell me you’re still there.” Silence. “Let me hear your voice, baby.” Silence. His heart slowed and ice crept through his bloodstream. “Please, baby. Let me hear your beautiful voice. Please, Jentry.”
The door squealed, screaming in outrage before giving way to a greater force.
“Light.” Her voice reached into the depths of his soul and beat back the encroaching darkness. She coughed. “I see light.”
Harden aged ten years waiting for the firemen to climb over the rubble left by the explosion, some of it massive, to bring her out of the collapse and into the garage. He was there when she emerged with an oxygen mask helping her breathe. There, when they placed her on the gurney. There, when the ambulance raced through the streets of New York City. He was there for it all, until she opened her eyes and he told her it was going to be okay and to never ever frighten him like that again because he couldn’t live without her. She was his everything.
Tears in her eyes, Jentry pulled the oxygen mask down. He was there to steal a kiss from her dry lips, and it was just as poignant as the first time they kissed, but this time he knew all he’d gained and all he had to lose.
“I love you.” His words were fierce though his voice trembled.
Bandage on her forehead, face streaked with soot, she smiled as if she’d won the lottery, when in fact, he’d won the greatest prize ever. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Epilogue
One month later
The call came at 7:00 a.m. Allie was seated in her high chair, spooning oatmeal into her mouth, and missing sixty percent of the time. Instead of helping, Jentry recorded the effort for posterity. It was time to collect undisputable evidence of her cuteness for blackmail in her teen years.
Harden walked into the dining room and dropped a heated kiss to Jentry’s throat. Bare-chested and sweaty from his workout, he smelled divine, a heady mixture of musk and a lingering hint of his cologne. No-holds-barred monkey sex flashed through her mind. Ripped clothes, bitten skin, bruised thighs from a good pounding. Whew! And that was last night. No reason they couldn’t do it again in the daylight. No reason at all.
She grabbed his head, threaded her fingers through his blond hair to keep him against her neck. He chuckled darkly, all to ready to comply with her silent wishes.
The past month hadn’t been easy. One week in the hospital and another week on bed rest, and she didn’t feel like herself. The nightmares were the worst. Dreams of being trapped, of Quincy blaming her for his death, she’d wake in a cold sweat, choking on imaginary smoke. But every single time, Harden was there, holding her through the storm, helping her piece herself back together. She didn’t tell him about Quincy’s deathbed confession. It felt sacrilegious to do so. The moment was theirs alone, forever.
She didn’t want her family to know about her near-death experience. It was enough they were dealing with Calista and Jewel. They didn’t need another worry. That lasted about two days. Nothing escaped Laverne’s notice. How could it when news of the attempted assassination and bombing was all over the media? She showed up at the penthouse demanding to see her daughter. Turned out, Jentry was wrong. She needed her mom and her sisters just as much as Calista did. There was enough love to go around.
One month later and she was still recovering from the smoke inhalation, while the million cuts and bruises had healed. Her lungs would take a bit longer.
Allie’s screech broke Jentry’s lusty haze. The little terror hated being ignored.
“Not winning the Battle of the Oatmeal today.” Harden crossed to the kitchen to wet several paper towels and returned to clean Allie’s face. The clump of oatmeal in her hair resisted.
Jentry could’ve stopped him. Allie needed a bath, not a wipe down, but, as her mother often said, “Never get in the way of a man who’s willing to help, because he’ll never help again.”
Jentry shut her trap and watched him struggle as Allie did everything to avoid the cleanup. This slice of domestic bliss was surreal. Four weeks of no one shooting at them, no buildings caving in, no boilers fake exploding, no one hunting them, though security continued to be tight.
She heard the whispers. Bodyguards gossiped like old women. First, the rumor was another hitman waited in the wings to kill Harden. On edge, Jentry didn’t want to let him out of her sight. She clung to him, desperate not to lose the sliver of happiness s
he’d just found.
Not a week later, another rumor filtered through. Whispers that the second hitman was dead. The body found and disposed of by Harden. By Harden’s newly relaxed nature and sudden homebody tendencies, she put stock in it. Either way, the quality time bonded the three of them together.
Harden tossed the wet paper towels aside. “I give up. You win, Allie.” He unstrapped her from the high chair and lifted her in his arms.
“Dada.” She cackled, happy at getting her way.
Carl flashed through her mind. He’d sent her an old-fashioned letter dropping his paternity suit and saying he was leaving town. Parts unknown. Harden read the note. His smile leeched all the warmth out of the room. “Let him go, Harden. There’s been enough death. Later on, if he wants to be in Allie’s life, we’ll let her decide.”
He agreed, but, oh well. She had enough to deal with without worrying about Carl’s breathing status.
Jentry snapped a picture of Harden and Allie, she couldn’t help herself. The moment was too perfect. Her phone rang and her mother’s name flashed across the screen. Since reconnecting with her middle child, Laverne usually FaceTimed her in the morning for some bonding with her granddaughter.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Jentry!” The panic in her voice snatched Jentry’s and Harden’s attention. “It’s Calista. The baby’s in distress. They’re taking her for an emergency C-Section. We’re on our way, but you’re closest.”
Jentry jumped up, already in motion. Harden shouted for Gerard and handed Allie off. A shared shower, they dressed quickly and were in the back of the Range Rover in less than fifteen minutes. Harden by her side with James, Harden’s driver, and not Quincy in the passenger seat. His loss hurt, a deep ache she would carry always.
Calista. Please, God, let her and Jewel be okay. She couldn’t lose the baby. Couldn’t…but if it happened… If the worst occurred… Calista would survive. She’d sew herself together even if her heart was pulp and her brain was mush, she would find a way to go on. Please, God, don’t let it come to that.
A strong hand covered her trembling fingers and threaded their hands together, lending her strength. “Whatever the outcome, we’ll be there for them.”
Julius! She’d completely forgotten about Julius. He was desperately in love with Jewel as much as Calista. He wanted to be a father as much as Calista wanted to be a mother.
“Yes. All of us will be there for them.”
Calista was in surgery already by the time they were shown into the Labor and Delivery waiting room to find Julius, seated with his elbows braced on his knees and his head hanging low.
“I-I thought you’d be with her,” Jentry said, spotting him where she least expected. “’Fathers are allowed into the operating room for the delivery, right?” That’s what she heard, seen in the movies and on TV. Was it a lie?
Slowly, Julius lifted his haggard face and nodded. “I left her this morning because of a business meeting I had to prepare for. I wasn’t here when they needed me.”
His palpable guilt filled every nook and cranny, and she didn’t know how to help as he broke eye contact and hung his head again. Harden sat next to his friend and draped an arm around his shoulders. He whispered a few words for only him to hear. Julius inhaled a ragged breath, centered himself, and pulled it together. When he rose, it was the man she first met in Catalyst, composed and king of his domain.
He exited with them following along with all their bodyguards. To the nurses’ station he went and didn’t need to demand attention when all eyes were on them from the moment they exited the waiting room. “Give me an update.” He banged his fist on the desk and demanded.
At the end of the hallway, automatic doors swung open and two medical professionals exited, along with a neonatal incubator. Julius froze, then rushed forward and froze again as the tiny form inside came into view.
God, she was so small, tiny. Thirty weeks and six days. Nine weeks premature, but she was strong and responding beautifully.
“And Calista?” Julius asked.
“Her doctor is closing now. He’ll be out shortly to talk to you.” They wheeled Jewel away.
Torn, Julius looked at his child being wheeled away, then at the closed automatic doors. Indecision was written all over his face. He didn’t know what to do and neither did she. However, he wasn’t alone. She was here.
“I’ll go with Jewel. You stay here and wait for the doctor. Okay?” Jentry offered.
Attention locked on the doors at the end of the hallway, Julius nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
She looked at Harden and mouthed, “Stay here.” He nodded once and motioned for his men to follow her down the hallway to the NICU. She cried as they hooked Jewel to various machines she couldn’t name and had no idea what they did. Memories of Allie’s birth flooded her brain, bringing more tears. Twenty-eight hours of hell. The first two hours were cake. The pain was manageable. The few breathing techniques she watched on YouTube had worked. By the eighth hour, the pain encompassed all of her being. Thank God for the epidural, she wouldn’t have gotten through otherwise.
Allie was born seven pounds eleven ounces. She was healthy and happy and perfect. Jewel would be too. She had to be.
Lost in thought, she didn’t realize she had company until her mother’s arms surrounded her.
“Which one is she?” Josette asked, her face pressed to the glass.
The entire family was here: Her parents and siblings. They were all here for the newest member, watching her, guarding her, sending her their unconditional love. Jentry pointed to her.
An hour later, Julius appeared in the doorway at the back of the room, dressed in protective coverings and a mask. He spoke to Jewel’s nurse, then together they crossed the room to the incubator and for the first time, he touched his daughter, first her hand, then her tiny chest. The awe and unbridled love… There wasn’t a dry eye amongst them. Eventually, he noticed the crowd at the observation window and said something to the nurse.
A hand circled Jentry’s waist and brought her into Harden’s side. His scent and strength surrounded her as Julius and the nurse carefully wheeled the incubator to the window.
“Oh God, she’s beautiful.” Jentry cried, tears leaking from her eyes.
“She’s so small,” Harden whispered, horrified.
At the quiet fear in his voice, Jentry canted her head up to find his eyes wide and mouth ajar. She helped him close it with a finger under his stubbled chin. Then ran her hand along his jaw. She met his cold blue gaze and found warmth flickering in their depths. “They do grow, you know.”
His smile was bright, wide, and warm. So much warmth coming from him, she basked in its glow, until she blinked, and it was gone. Whiplash, he was all business again. His head dipped to keep whatever was on his mind between them and not every member of her family and his men. “How do you feel about more children?”
Children. Not child. Him and her. She having his babies. The thought didn’t send her running. The idea, the possibility, wrapped around her mind, her heart, her body, her soul. Yeah, she wanted more children, and she wanted more children with him. But that wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
Jentry went to her tiptoes and pulled him closer. She breathed in his ear and delighted in the shudder racing through his body. “I would love to give Allie a brother and a sister…after I find a husband.”
Gauntlet gently thrown, she met his unflinching gaze. No other words were shared because none were needed. It took a long time for her to know her worth, and if by now he didn’t, well, it was his lost. More fish in the—
“Jentry Playne.”
Standing so close to him, he didn’t need to practically shout and draw everyone’s attention. Parents, siblings, bodyguards, and staff turned their way. Annoyed, she frowned. “Yes?” I am standing right in front of you!
A grin stretched across his impossibly handsome, arrogant face as if he’d read her mind and found her annoyance amusing. He pulled a small velvet bo
x out of his pocket and flicked it open. “Marry me.”
She blinked, then blinked again.
Holy. Shit. The diamond was huge, rectangular, and sparkled so brightly in the light. And it was beautiful.
She waited for the punch line, for him to snort and say something funny, causing everyone to laugh at her expense. None came. Standing in front of her, waiting for her answer, his normally frigid eyes were warm, inviting, and waiting patiently.
Along with everyone else.
Her jaw slowly unhinged. The background noise faded away, and all she saw was the love in his eyes, those eyes she once thought were so cold. Those eyes that pierced her soul. Was she really going to do this now that the moment was here? It was too soon. They’d known each other less than a year. What was that idiom? “‘Marry in haste and die a painful death.” She’d been on the precipice of death a few times in her twenty years and… She loved him. He loved her.
Ah, fuck it.
She grabbed his sweater and climbed up his body. Her arms around his neck, his hands on her ass, she plastered her lips to his and kissed him until the need for air forced them apart, then shouted for the world to hear. “Yes, Harden Gage. Yes. I will marry you.”
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Thank you for reading Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong. I hope you enjoyed it. What’s next? Plain Jane and the Hitman’s Wedding! We return to Emmet and Bailey. They’re tying the knot. But first, Emmet has to kill Alezandar Karpovilov. It won’t be easy, especially when his fiancée won’t stay out of harm’s way and his father-in-law has a secret agenda.
Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong (Plain Jane Series Book 4) Page 43