Page 72

Rex

The rhythmic beeping of the fetal heart monitor is the only sound piercing the thick silence in the dimly lit hospital room. As soon as we arrived, the emergency room staff whisked her away directly to the maternity floor. A flurry of activity ensued as nurses, doctors, and a host of other medical personnel flooded her room, their movements swift and practiced. They connected her to monitors, inserted an IV with precision, and conducted scan after scan, each one adding to the gravity of the situation.

I watch Rem, her emerald eyes fixed on the ceiling, deliberately avoiding my gaze. The gentle swell of her belly rises and falls with each breath, our unborn child still nestled safely within. I ache to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips, but the invisible wall between us is as solid as concrete.

“Rem,” I start, my voice low and gravelly in the quiet room. She doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge me, but I see the slight tightening around her eyes. “Baby, please. Talk to me.”

“Not yet,” she declares under her breath, holding up her hand.

I shift in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the creak echoing in the room. Her jaw clenches, a telltale sign of her anger. I want to soothe her, to tell her everything will be alright, but the words stick in my throat.

Linny bustles in, her presence filling the room with a warmth that had been lacking. She’s a whirlwind of motion, adjusting the pillows and smoothing her daughter’s hair with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. Her eyes meet mine, a silent question in their depths. I give her a slight nod, assuring her that I’m holding it together.

“The kids are fine, sugar,” Linny says. “Beaux is keeping Birdie entertained. Cheyenne and Harlow are out there with them.” A ghost of a smile flickers across Rem’s face. Fuck, my kids are brave. Braver than they should be at this age.

The doctor enters, clipboard in hand, and the tension in the room ratchets up a notch. I stand, my hand instinctively moving to hers. She doesn’t pull away, and I take it as a small victory.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Laveau?”

“Better,” she croaks. “The contractions have slowed down. They’re not as bad.”

“Good. The medication we’re administering is working then. All good things considered with pre-term labor.”

The doctor’s words hit me hard, and I feel her stiffen beneath my hand. Pre-term labor? My mind reels, trying to process the implications. I glance at Rem, her face a mask of shock and disbelief, mirroring my own emotions.

“But...I thought it was just Braxton Hicks,” she whispers. “I’ve been having these pains on and off for weeks.”

The doctor shakes his head, his expression grave. “I’m afraid not, Ms. Laveau. The contractions you’ve been experiencing today are real labor pains. You’re about two centimeters dilated. We’ve managed to stop them for now, but you’re at risk for delivering early.”

My throat constricts, and I struggle to find my voice. “So, what does that mean?” I ask, the words coming out harsher than I intended. I clear my throat and try again. “What happens now?”

The doctor turns to face us both, his eyes flickering between us. “It means we need to be very careful from here on out. You’re only at 28 weeks, Ms. Laveau. While babies can survive at this stage, it’s far from ideal.”

I feel the burden of his words settle on my shoulders like a lead blanket. My mind races with a thousand questions, each more terrifying than the last. Will our baby be okay? What if she goes into labor again? I look down at her, and for the first time since we arrived at the hospital, I see fear. The fear I see there mirrors my own, and instinctively, I tighten my grip on her hand.

“We’ll need to keep you here for observation, Ms. Laveau,” the doctor continues. “At least for the next 48 hours. We’ll continue with the medication to suppress the contractions and give you steroids to help develop the baby’s lungs, just in case.”

Rem nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. I can see the wheels turning in her head, probably already planning how to run her business and the club from a hospital bed.

“What about after that?” I ask. “Can she go home?”

The doctor hesitates, and I feel my stomach drop. “We’ll reassess after 48 hours, but I’m going to recommend bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy. It’s crucial we keep that baby inside as long as possible.”

Her hand tightens around mine, and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Bed rest. For Remington Laveau, the woman who never sits still, who runs an MC and a business with an iron fist. It might as well be a prison sentence.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on your progress. For now, just sit tight, try to relax, and let the medicine do its job.”

As the doctor leaves, the silence in the room becomes oppressive. Rem’s hand is still gripping mine, her knuckles white with tension. I can almost hear the gears turning in her head, processing this new reality.

“Bed rest,” she finally whispers. “Rex, how am I supposed to—”

“We’ll figure it out,” I interrupt, my tone firm. “The club, the business, the kids – we’ll handle it all. You just focus on keeping our little one safe.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Linny chimes in. “You heard the doctor, sugar. This isn’t just about you anymore.”

I watch as Rem’s free hand moves to her swollen belly, her fingers splaying protectively over our unborn child. The fight seems to drain out of her, replaced by a vulnerability I rarely see.

“I can’t lose this baby,” she murmurs, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she looks up at me. “I can’t, Rex.”

My heart clenches at the raw fear in her voice. I lean in, pressing my forehead against hers. “You won’t,” I promise, willing it to be true. “We’re gonna do everything in our power to keep both of you safe. You hear me?”

Linny gives us both a gentle squeeze before excusing herself. “I’ll go update the others,” she says softly, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

I watch as she takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling, her hand still protectively cradling her belly. The fetal monitor continues its steady rhythm, a constant reminder of the precious life we’re fighting for.

“Rex,” she starts. “We need to talk about Meredith.”

The name hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. I feel my jaw clench involuntarily, my body tensing at the mention of my ex. “We don’t have to do this now. You need to rest, to-”

“No,” she cuts me off, her eyes flashing with anger. “We need to talk about it. Now.”

The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows across Rem’s face, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes and the worry lines etched into her forehead. God, she looks exhausted. More so than she did earlier if that’s even possible.

“Alright,” I concede.

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the conversation ahead. The consequences of my actions, or rather, my inaction, sits heavy on my chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw Meredith before we left for the parade?” Rem asks, but I can hear the hurt beneath the surface.

“I had planned to tell you after we got home. The kids were having a good time, and I didn’t want to spoil it for them.”

“Considering she stole them out of a crowded funhouse, I’d say the evening was ruined, Rex.” The heart monitor behind her beeps, drawing my attention to it as her heart rate climbs.

“Rem, you need to stay calm.”

“Stay calm?” she fires back as the monitor beeps even louder. “Beaux and Birdie were snatched off the street by your ex. Staying calm is not happening.”

“You have every right to be pissed at me, but your heart rate is jumping. The baby and I both need you to take a fucking breath, babe.”

Rem takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. The monitor’s beeping slows slightly.

“You’re right,” she says through gritted teeth. “I don’t want them coming back in. But Rex, you have to understand how scared I was. How scared I still am.”

I nod, guilt gnawing at my insides. “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I should have told you immediately.”

“Why didn’t you?” Her vulnerability seeping through the cracks in her armor.

I sigh, running a hand over my face. “I thought I could handle Meredith on my own.”

“We’re a team. We face things together. You can’t keep things from me, especially when it comes to our children’s safety.”

“You’re right,” I admit. “I fucked up, Rem. I should have told you everything.”

She nods, her hand absently stroking her belly. “What exactly did Meredith say to you?”

I take a deep breath. “She showed up at the construction site, demanding to talk to me, which is when Coffey called. When I got there, she started demanding to see Birdie, and that she needed my help and the club’s protection. That I owed it to her as Birdie’s mom.”

“Protection from what? Please tell me I didn’t agree to putting you in danger.”

“That’s the thing. She didn’t tell me a fucking thing. As soon as she figured out that you and I were together again, she said some shit about you, I lost my cool, threatened her, and then I left. The last time I saw her, I was riding away while Coffey got rid of her.”

“So, how did she find us at the parade?”

“I have no clue.”

“What do we do then? We have the kids and a signed letter saying she’s relinquishing her parental rights. She has nothing to use against us or you.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t have any legal standing. But Meredith...she’s not thinking rationally. She’s desperate, and that makes her dangerous. Whatever she’s gotten herself mixed up in is bad enough that she came running back to me.”

“We need to increase security. For the kids, for the club, for everything.”

I nod, already mentally cataloging what needs to be done. “I’ll have Coffey and the boys set up round-the-clock surveillance on the house and the club. We’ll need to be careful about the kids’ schedules, maybe change up their routines.”

“And what about me? I can’t exactly defend myself if I’m stuck in this bed.”

The thought of her being vulnerable sends a chill down my spine. “I’ll have someone with you at all times.”

Rem nods, but I can see the annoyance in her eyes. She’s not used to feeling helpless, to relying on others for protection. “Maybe we should help her. It’s the easiest solution.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious, Rex. Think about it. If we help her, maybe she’ll leave us alone. It could be the quickest way to end this threat to our family.”

I shake my head, incredulous. “Rem, you can’t be thinking straight. This is Meredith we’re talking about. She’s unstable and unpredictable. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice how bloodshot her eyes were at the shop. She’s still using.”

“Considering I was in labor, the only thing I saw was a desperate woman holding our kids hostage.”

“I get it, Rem. I do. But helping Meredith...it’s not that simple. We don’t even know what kind of trouble she’s in. For all we know, it could be something that puts us all at risk.”

“And having her running around desperate doesn’t put us at risk? She already took the kids once, Rex. What’s to stop her from trying again?”

I feel my temper flaring, but I force it down. Getting angry won’t help anyone right now. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from. But we can’t just jump into this blindly. We need more information.”

“Then get it. Call Maya. She would have never let her leave the shop without a way to track her.”

I nod, mentally running through who I could trust with this task. “Alright. I’ll do it. But Rem, you have to promise me something.”

She raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“Promise me you’ll focus on taking care of yourself and our baby. Let me handle this Meredith situation. You need to rest and stay calm. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

For a moment, I think she’s going to argue. But then her shoulders sag slightly and she nods. “Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll try. But Rex, you have to keep me in the loop. No more secrets, no matter how much you think you’re protecting me.”

I lean in, pressing my forehead against hers. “I promise, baby. No more secrets.”

We stay like that for a moment, the beeping of the monitors fading into the background. Then Rem pulls back slightly, her emerald eyes locking onto mine.

“There’s something else we need to discuss.”

I feel a knot forming in my stomach. “What is it?”

She takes a deep breath. “If...if something happens, if I go into labor again and it’s too early...”

“Rem, don’t—”

She holds up a hand, silencing me. “Let me finish. If it comes down to a choice between me and the baby, I need you to choose the baby.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I stumble back, shaking my head. “No. No way in hell, Rem. I’m not making that choice.”

“You might have to,” she insists “And I need to know that you’ll do what’s best for our child.”

I feel like I can’t breathe like the walls of the hospital room are closing in on me. “I can’t...I won’t choose between you and our baby. Don’t ask me to do that.”

Her eyes soften, but the determination remains. “Rex, listen to me. This baby is a part of both of us. If something happens, I need to know that you’ll fight for them with everything you’ve got.”

I clench my fists. “And what about Beaux and Birdie? What about me? We need you, Rem. I can’t do this without you.”

“You can, and you will. I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’m just...preparing for the worst.”

I sit heavily on the edge of her bed, my head in my hands. The pressure of everything - Meredith, the pregnancy complications, this impossible choice she’s asking me to make - it’s all too much.

“Hey,” Rem says softly, her hand on my back. “Look at me.”

I turn to face her.

“We’re going to get through this,” she says firmly. “All of us. You get Meredith out of our lives forever, and I’ll protect the baby.”

I nod slowly, trying to summon some of her strength and conviction. “You’re right. We’ll figure this out together.” I lean in and press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Rem. You and our kids…you’re everything to me.”

Her eyes soften, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I love you too, Rex. Now, go make those calls. Get things moving on the Meredith situation.”

I stand, reluctant to leave her side, but knowing she’s right. We need to act fast. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything. Try to get some rest, okay?”

She nods, her eyelids already looking heavy. The stress and medication are clearly taking their toll. I watch as she settles back against the pillows, her hands instinctively resting on her belly. The thought of losing either of them is eating me from the inside. She’s right, though. Meredith has to be dealt with immediately. One way or another.