Page 48

Aslan

T orin followed me down the hall and to the bank of elevators. “What do you mean he left?”

Pounding the call button, I hushed him as Jordyn answered her phone. “Where the fuck is—”

“Don’t yell at me,” she said before I could unleash the full force of my annoyance at her allowing Quaid to race off to places unknown on a case he was supposed to be done working. “He was gone before I knew he was going anywhere, and he absconded with my help.”

“Goddammit, Jordyn. He’s supposed to be with me having a baby.”

“I know. I’m pissed too. Stop shouting. Meet me at the main doors. I have to make a phone call and sort this shit out.” She hung up as the elevator arrived.

The short ride to the first floor wasn’t enough time for me to catch Torin up on the case, but I translated enough for him to understand that Quaid had figured out where the missing kid was being held, that it was a potentially dangerous situation with a father who wasn’t the father and an uncle who was having an affair with his brother’s wife .

“I think I saw this episode on Days of Our Lives .”

“Shut up, Torin. Quaid’s taken off to play hero and dragged Ruiz along for backup. Meanwhile, our surrogate is in active labor upstairs.”

“You can’t be surprised. Quaid has never been able to shut down and walk away from a case. Ever.”

“I know.”

“He doesn’t want to see that kid hurt, Az.”

“I know.”

A long pause ensued as the elevator took us to the ground floor.

“But seriously, freaking Ruiz?” Torin said with a scoff. “Doesn’t your motherfucking husband know I’m a better choice? That cocksucker doesn’t even work in the field.”

“Oh my god. This isn’t about you.”

“Does that freak even know how to use a gun?”

I ignored my partner’s bruised ego and raced to the hospital’s main lobby. Jordyn spotted us and waved me over as she disconnected a call and planted her hands on her hips.

“What’s the situation?” I asked.

“Ruiz called for backup, and the district police are responding. They’re on their way and have been told it’s a possible hostage situation.”

“Gimme the address,” Torin said, fishing his keys from a pocket.

“What are you planning to do?” I asked.

“I’m going to find lover boy and drag him back here by the scruff of the neck.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Before I could aim for the door, Jordyn and Torin planted hands on my chest, stopping me. “No, you’re not,” Torin snapped. “You’re staying here because one of you knuckleheads ought to be around when that baby is born. ”

“But—”

“Go back upstairs, Az. Jordyn will come with me.”

Jordyn agreed, her no-nonsense expression and sneer almost as powerful as Quaid’s. I jammed a finger in Torin’s face. “You bring him back here safe and sound.”

He swatted the hand away. “Don’t start acting like I can’t handle a little family drama. I told you. I saw this episode. I know how it plays out.”

“This is serious, Torin.”

He fisted my shirt and dragged me down to his level, staring me directly in the eye as he lowered his voice. “Have I ever failed you?”

“No.”

“Go be with Bryn. I’ll bring Quaid back in one piece. I can’t promise not to lecture him about priorities, but he will be fine. Ruiz may not be as good a cop as me, but… he isn’t going to let Quaid get hurt. You know that.”

“I know.”

“Tell Allison something came up.”

Torin and Jordyn were out the door before the weight of the situation fully settled.

Unsure what else to do, I headed back to the labor and delivery floor, bypassed the waiting room where my mother talked loudly to everyone, commanding the room and conversation, and found Iggy and Arden pacing with Bryn between them.

The long hours of labor were catching up with her, but Bryn’s eyes still shone with happiness when she saw me at the door. “Where’s Quaid?”

“He had to step out. He should be back soon.”

Seemingly attuned to my poorly hidden distress, Bryn asked her brother and Iggy to leave us alone.

I helped her onto the bed and tucked a few pillows behind her lower back as she got comfortable.

A contraction was upon her before she could ask me to elaborate, and I held her hand, letting her squeeze the life out of it as she fought through to the end.

It was far more intense than the last one I’d witnessed, and I couldn’t help but feel the echoes of her pain radiate in my core.

When it ended, she said, “They’re getting closer together. Not giving me much of a break anymore.”

“And stronger, it seems.”

She nodded and shifted onto her side to face me. “What happened?”

“The case broke. Rather, I think Quaid slotted all the pieces together and came up with the answer. Instead of relaying it to the team, he shot out of here like a cannon to rescue the boy.”

Bryn smiled, the soft glow in her pale green eyes calming my jitters.

“You know, that’s one of the reasons I chose you two.

Quaid’s special. He might be quiet. He might be reserved.

Heck, sometimes, he’s like a nervous bunny full of restless energy who is so gosh darn terrified he’s going to mess up this parenting thing that he has to overprepare himself just to ensure he’s prepared enough. ”

I huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s Quaid in a nutshell.”

“He’s passionate, Az. For you. For this baby. For his job. He does everything with his whole heart.”

“He believes the child is in danger. He thinks taking five minutes to explain what’s happening or finding someone else to handle the situation is too big of a risk. He feels duty bound.”

Bryn reached for my hand. “What if he’s right? He’ll make it.”

“I hope so. If he misses this, he’ll never forgive himself.”

“Well, like I said before, I’d better keep these legs crossed.”

I laughed, and Bryn did, too, until she dissolved into another contraction, moaning and biting the pillow beneath her head.

It came too close to the last one. Had it been three minutes?

Bryn was nearly delirious with pain, her feet rubbing the sheets beneath her in a manner that conveyed how all-consuming the agony was.

I had vague memories of Amelia in labor. I’d visited her room once or twice while she was having contractions. I didn’t remember them being like this. It felt like the end stage, and delivery was imminent.

I swept the hair off Bryn’s forehead and talked her through it, encouraging her to breathe while silently cursing my husband.

He was better at this than me. He’d read every book imaginable.

Watched videos on YouTube. He’d talked with Bryn about what to expect and how to support her. It was always their thing.

He and Bryn had bonded. She needed him.

Our baby needed him.

It was a long forty-five seconds to a minute before the last ripples calmed. I fed Bryn ice chips and encouraged her to close her eyes and rest. Using a damp washcloth, I blotted the sweat from her brow. She fell into a doze, but time was limited. The next contraction would be upon us in no time.

Worried and anxious that I would end up doing this alone, I withdrew my phone and hit Quaid’s number. “Come on, hot stuff. We’re running out of time. Pick up.”

He didn’t pick up. It rang and rang and rang.

When his voicemail connected, I cursed under my breath.

What the hell was happening?