Page 45

Sierra

I open my eyes and then shut them again for a second before I force myself to open them again.

I look around and see I’m in a hospital room.

The door is closed and a machine is working on the side.

The IV in my arm pinches me as I see the chair next to my bed and Caleb sitting in it.

His head is back, his eyes closed, and his hands folded on his chest. I lick my lips as I try to lift my arm, but the burning in my shoulder makes me hiss out.

Caleb’s eyes fly open, and he looks at me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You’re up.” He sits up, and I close my eyes again.

“I need water,” I tell him, trying to swallow, but my mouth is so dry.

He gets up and walks out of the room, and I rest my eyes until I hear the door open, and he walks back in.

“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the plastic cup he is holding in his hand, but he continues to hold it, putting the straw in my mouth.

The cold water hits my tongue right away, and I take a couple of sips. “That was good.”

He turns to put it on the brown hospital table before he sits on the bed beside me. “You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “I was so fucking scared. Never do that to me again.”

“Okay,” I reply softly. “In my defense, I didn’t want to do it in the first place.”

He smiles. “You have been in and out all night.” I’m surprised by his words.

“What happened?” I ask, thinking back to when the memories start to get fuzzy.

“Before we get to all that, I have to go and get your parents”—he gets up from the bed—“and my parents.”

“Our parents are here?” I ask, shocked. “Like my parents and your parents?”

“Yes.” He nods. “The waiting room was busting with all our friends. All of them left when they found out you were going to be okay, except for our parents. It’s pretty great but a little bit too much.

” His hands go by his head. “I’ll be right back.

” He walks out of the room, and I can hear the rushing of footsteps when the door opens.

My mother is the first one in, followed by my father.

“Oh my gosh,” she says, rushing to my side while my father follows her. “We were so scared.” My mother holds my face. “So fucking scared.” She uses the f-word and then gasps. “I didn’t mean to swear, but don’t fucking do that again.”

I try to smile at her as I look over at my father, who is holding my mother’s shoulders. “Your mother is happy you’re okay.” He tries to hide the tremble of his voice by clearing his throat. “I told her you were going to be okay, but she never listens to me.”

“Oh, hush”—my mother swats at him—“she was shot. I never thought that would ever come out of my mouth. I know someone who was shot.”

I look over at the side, seeing Caleb standing with his parents who I’ve met on FaceTime a couple of times. My heartbeat starts to pick up. “Um, hi.” I hold up my hand as much as I can, but it falls beside me. “Sorry, I would be more chipper, but getting shot is exhausting.”

“Sierra,” my mother gasps, “too soon.” She wipes her eyes, then looks at my father and face-plants her head in the middle of his chest. “She gets that from you.”

“Of course she does.”

“Can I meet Caleb’s parents now?” I ask them, and they move aside. “This is really not how I wanted the first meeting to go with the two of you.” I try to sit up in the bed but that just is too much energy. “I had a dress picked out and everything.”

His mother comes forward first with a smile and tears, of course. “It’s so good to finally meet you,” she says, and I look over her shoulder at Jensen, who Caleb looks exactly like.

“Thank you for coming. You really didn’t have to.”

“Of course we did,” she refutes. “We’re practically family.” I look at her, then at Caleb, who looks up and avoids my eyes.

“He did tell me the two of you were moving in together,” my mother interjects.

“They already live together,” Jensen adds, and my father quickly looks at Caleb.

“This is fun,” I note, “but can we talk about me getting shot?”

“What do you remember?” Caleb asks, coming over to sit by the bed. His hand wraps around mine, bringing it to his lips.

“I remember my birth mother telling me about what her family did to her.” I look at him. “Then I remember opening the door to a man.”

“That was your uncle.” He fills me in on everything he knows, the silent sobs coming from my mother as she listens to the story as Jensen holds Hailey in his arms. His jaw is tighter with each passing second the story goes on.

My mouth hangs open. “I don’t know how to tell you this next part,” he says softly, “but Fiona was shot.”

I sit up in bed, ignoring the way my arm burns. “What?”

“She’s going to be okay,” he assures me, and I shake my head and turn to the other side of him, tossing the blanket off me and moving to the edge of the bed.

“Baby”—he rushes to the other side—“can you relax for a minute?”

“No.” I shake my head. “You can either take me to her, or I will call the nurse and get her to take me.”

He exhales a heavy breath. “Let me get you a wheelchair.” He looks at my parents and then his. “Don’t let her get out of that bed.”

I want to fight him on it, but my body is going to give out mid-step if I try to fight it off and walk to her. “Is she okay?” I ask the four of them, and they all nod at me.

“She came out of surgery a while ago, but she hasn’t woken up,” my mother shares. “You look so much like her.”

The only thing I can do is nod at this, knowing it must be very hard for her to come face-to-face with my birth mother.

Caleb comes back a couple of minutes later with the black wheelchair in front of him. “The nurse is going to come in and disconnect you from all of your things,” he tells me, and a second later, the nurse comes in.

She takes the monitor off my finger and the two on my chest. She hangs the IV bag on top of the pole on the wheelchair. “She is good to go.” She nods at him and then at me as Caleb picks me up and places me in the wheelchair.

“Should we put a blanket on her legs?” he asks the nurse, who looks at me. “Is that a no?”

“If it will make you feel better,” I give in to him, “then sure.” He places the blanket over my legs.

“See, compromising already,” Jensen jokes, and my father chuckles as Caleb pushes me out of the room and into the dimly lit hallway.

“Are you guys coming?” I look over at my parents, who haven’t moved from their spot.

“We don’t want to intrude,” my mother says, standing tall and trying to be strong.

“Mom,” I retort, “you’re as much a part of this as I am.” She nods when I hold out my hand to her.

I hold my mother’s hand as Caleb wheels me down the hall two doors.

He stops the chair and then walks in front of me, as he knocks and then opens the door.

“She forced me to bring her.” He sticks his head into the room before the door is pulled open, and my birth father, Carl, is standing there.

His eyes go to my parents as he nods at them, and I have a feeling they’ve met, and then they come to me.

“You’re up.” He smiles at me, his eyes filled with brand-new tears. “I was coming by to check on you in a couple of minutes.”

“How is she?” I look past him and toward the bed where Fiona lies.

“Doctor said it’s a good thing the gun was a twenty-two.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Missed all the organs, and she got shot in the side.” He moves to the side so Caleb can wheel me in.

“What happened?” I look at the two of them, who share a look. “You might as well tell me because I’m bound to find out. Someone got shot in my house. I’m sure there will be a police report out there somewhere.”

“She’s not going to let up,” my father concedes. “She’s tenacious.” He looks at Carl, who smiles sadly at me. My heart hurts for him, thinking I was dead all these years. I can’t even fathom what that would feel like.

“Fine.” Caleb fills me in on everything that was said while I was unconscious. My mother shakes her head side to side in shock.

“Where is he now?” I ask, my head reeling from everything that happened today.

“He’s being held at the local jail,” Caleb replies. “Carl broke his nose and busted his lip open, but it’s nothing that will cause him to stay in the hospital.”

“So they did all of this for money?” I ask, looking at Carl.

“It’s the root of all evil.” Fiona’s voice comes out hoarsely, and we all look at her.

“Fiona,” Carl calls, rushing to her side, “you’re okay.” He grabs her hand and tries not to disturb her. The tears just pour down his face. The way he looks at her, you can feel the way he loves her. “You’re okay,” he sobs quietly, taking her hand in his and kissing it. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” She tries to clear her throat, and I look up at Caleb, not wanting to ruin their special moment.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t protect our child.” She tries to move her hand to wipe her tears, but it quickly falls down beside her hip. “I should have protected her.”

“I’m fine,” I interrupt softly. “I grew up with the best parents that I could ask for. They loved me unconditionally, and not once did I feel that I wasn’t theirs, not once.” I look at my mother, who puts her hand on my shoulder, and I put my hand on hers.

“But you were mine,” my mother says. “You were ours.”

“I’m still yours.” I try to steady my voice. “I’m here because of my parents”—I look at my mother and my father—“and because of you two. This is my story.” I look at them. “Our story is just beginning.” I look at Carl and Fiona. “That is if you’ll have me. Have us.”

“That’s the question we should be asking you,” Carl replies, then looks at Fiona. “Will you”—he swallows—“allow us to be a part of your life?”

“I never forgot you,” Fiona declares. “You were never forgotten. And I’m not about to forget about you now. I’ll take whatever it is you want to give us.” She looks at my mother. “Thank you for raising her when I couldn’t. For loving her with us.”

My mother lets go of my hand and walks over to the bed. “No, thank you two for creating the perfect child.” Fiona and my mother share a look. “Nothing I can give you can replace what you lost. But we can fill in the gaps.”

“I’d like that very much,” Fiona says, then she looks at Carl. “We would like that very much.”

I look over at Caleb, who comes to squat beside me. “Oh, by the way,” he mumbles, “I may have told them we were engaged.” I gasp. “I had to think of something. They wanted to know how we were related.”

“And you went with engaged?” I roll my eyes. “I better get a big ring.” I look over at Fiona and my mother. The two of them try not to laugh as Fiona closes her eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” I assure them between my own tears. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Two weeks later:

The knock at the door has both of us looking at each other. “Are you expecting anyone?” I ask Caleb as he walks to the front door.

“No,” he says over his shoulder before opening the door and seeing Theo standing there.

“Hey,” Caleb says, moving aside to give room for Theo to come in. “This is a surprise. I thought you were going to visit your parents this weekend.”

“Yeah,” he says and I can see that he’s going through something when he looks at me, then at Caleb, running his hand through his hair. “No.” He looks up. “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say this.”

“You’re scaring the shit out of me,” Caleb snaps at him and I stand here, my heart pounding in my chest thinking he’s in trouble. “Just say whatever it is.”

I don’t know what I’m expecting to hear, but from the shock and gasp out of Caleb’s mouth, it’s not what he’s expecting either. “I’m going to be a father.”