Bad Wolf(50)

I give in and give my bear of a brother-in-law a hug. He engulfs me in his arms, and I hug him awkwardly back, patting his sides.

"She'll be fine," I whisper, and now it's me giving reassurances. The world has clearly gone batshit. "Where's your brother?"

"Kaden went to get us some coffee. He said we'll need it."

Coffee sounds good, even if my stomach is twisted in knots. I want to go see my sister, hold her hand, reassure her-but I have the same problem I imagine he has: seeing her in pain won't be easy.

I take a bracing breath to ask which one is her room, or ward or whatever-when a doctor hurries to us, to Matt.

"Mr. Hansen." It's a young guy in pale blue scrubs and a kind, tired face.

"Yeah? What is it?" I've never seen him go pale like that, I swear. "Is something wrong?"

"We're going to prep your wife for the C-Section. If you want to be with her … "

"Shit, yeah, of course."

"Can I come, too?" I start after them as they hurry toward a set of white doors. "I'm her sister-"

"Just the husband, I'm afraid," the young doctor says over his shoulder.

Well, crap. "Is she going to be okay? And the baby?"

"Yes, everything looks okay," he says, although if that were true, why would they do a C-section?

Truth or lie, the doors close in my face, and I skid to a stop.

I didn't even get to see her. Does she know I'm here?

Oh shut up, mind. This isn't about me, it's about her, and I'll be the first person at her bedside the moment she's out. I'm here in case my sister needs anything.

Anything at all.



I call Mom to tell her what's going on, and text Merc and Jarett about it, too.

When a person sits down beside me some time later, I fully expect to see Merc, but it's not my tall, little brother.

It's Jarett.

"How you holding on?" he asks in his deep voice, and I shiver.

"Okay. She's in the surgery now. Just waiting."

His hand searches for mine, grips it in a bruising hold.

It feels good, grounding me, and I smile at him. "How's Mom? Where did you leave her?"

"With Merc. He called her, said he's staying until the doctor is done with her, and then will bring her over here."

"How's her ankle? What did the x-ray show?"

"Still waiting for the doctor."

I nod, look down at our entwined hands. So much I want to tell him. I want to thank him again, tell him again I love him. But I don't. The words are lodged somewhere in my throat and won't come out.

Time passes. He's quiet, too, as he rubs his thumb in small, gentle circles on the back of my hand, his lowered lashes long and dark, hiding his eyes.

The fact he's here, it means so much to me. It means everything. What I know about it, all my carefully collected clues, they don't matter. With tonight's gesture, he's swept them off the table, ended the game.

He's the kindest man I know.

And just like that, I find my voice again. "Thank you for finding Merc," I whisper. "For coming here with me." He turns toward me, and I notice for the first time that his jaw is bruised. I disengage my hand from his, lift it to his face, but he flinches, turns away. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You got into a fight?"

His jaw clenches. "I didn't, Gigi. They started it and ended it."

"Who's they? Your gang?"

He says nothing.

What am I going to do with this gorgeous, stubborn man?

"How's your mom?" I ask, letting my hand drop, my thoughts all over the place.

He flinches again.

Then he sighs, tips his head back, and in the harsh fluorescent light, I notice dark circles under his eyes. "Not so good." He stops, and I think he won't say anything else, but he rubs his face with his free hand. "Her short-term memory is gone. Most of what happened in the past few years, too. She doesn't know who I am. She freaked out yesterday when she saw me." His breath hitches. "She started to scream. The nurses had to sedate her."

Oh no. "I'm so sorry." I lean into him, slip an arm around him. "That sucks."

He nods, his mouth unsteady. "Yeah."                       
       
           



       

I don't know how to console him. How can I tell him everything will be okay when it's obvious it won't?

"What's on your mind?" I whisper.

"Death."

I shiver and rest my cheek on his shoulder. "Do you remember your parents?"

"Yeah. They died in an accident, the same one that screwed up my knee. My brain probably, too. And then …  then I was in foster homes for years, until Connor found me and decided to adopt me."

"You've told me his name before."

"He was a cop. A cool guy. He trained me to use a knife, and a gun, and in a mixture of martial arts. Wanted me to be ready for the world. But then he got killed in a shoot-out with a gang. Just like that, he was fucking gone, too."

God. I don't know what to say. He's shaking, as if battling some great emotion, but his eyes are dry.

So I just hold him, wrap around him as much as the hard plastic seats allow us, until his breathing eases.

"This is fucked up," he finally says. "I'm supposed to distract you."

"You're doing a good job," I whisper.

"Gigi … "

"I like knowing more about you. Not," I hurry to add, "that I like what you said. That they died, I mean. I'm so sorry for that. I … "

"It's okay." But he pulls me more tightly to his side, his arm heavy around my shoulders. "I know."

And then the doctor comes out to tell us everything went fine, and that both the mother and baby are well and resting.

Little Bean is finally here, and Jarett is beside me.

When Merc rolls Mom into the ward a little later in a wheelchair, and we are told we'll get to see the baby through the glass, everything's right with the world.

Please, let it stay this way.



"Want to hold him?" Octavia asks, holding the baby out to me. She looks tired and pale, but she's smiling.

"I'll drop him!" I receive him in my arms anyway, delighted and scared. His weight is almost nonexistent. "Oh my God."

He's wrapped up like a taco in a blue blanket, his tiny, wrinkled face and his little hands the only visible parts of him. His eyes squint up at me, dark and shiny.

"He likes you," Octavia says.

I consider this dubious statement. "I read somewhere that babies can't even see properly the first few months."

She huffs, closing her eyes. "Really?"

"But you like me, don't you, baby-boo?" Bean is squirming in my hold, his little fists waving, and I make faces at him. "Auntie Gigi will take good care of you."

Octavia snickers.

"We'll be best friends." I glance at her. "Does he have a name yet?"

She shakes her head.

"Bean it is, then."

"Is Jarett here with you?" My sister is watching me carefully.

"Yeah."

"Did you get the clues you were looking for, then?"

"I did." I rock Bean a little. "And he's been wonderful."

Octavia settles back in her nest of pillows, smiling at me. "I'm glad. Love isn't an easy thing to bear, and it's much heavier when you do it alone."





Chapter Thirty





Jarett





Never seen a newborn before. We're allowed to see it behind the glass, and then Merc sweettalks one of the nurses into letting us see when she bathes it.

Him. It's a boy.

So we're standing there, watching as she cleans him up, again behind the glass, and fuck, he's wrinkly, and ugly, and so fucking small I'd crush him if I had to hold him.

His dick is microscopic. Was mine like that once?

Shit.

Okay, so he isn't all ugly. He's kinda cute, too, I guess, and the look on Gigi's face as she looks at him is …  priceless. She's fucking ecstatic.

That's kinda hot.

Ah man, I'm totally fucked. Has to be the sleepless night, and the stress, making me think that the combination of babies and Gigi is cute, and hot.

Making me hard.

"Oh God, isn't he beautiful?" Mrs. Watson-Maggie-says at some point and looks up at me from her wheelchair, eyes shining.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, yeah."

Awkward.

"Sorry." She takes my hand in hers and smiles. "It's a mother/grandmother thing. Our children and grandchildren are the most beautiful, the best in the whole world, or so they seem to us."

I swallow past a mysterious knot in my throat. "He's not bad-looking for a baby."

Her smile turns brilliant. "You're such a nice boy, Jarett Lowe."

I frown. "I'm not … "

Not nice. Not a Lowe, either.                       
       
           



       

But she doesn't seem to notice. "My Gigi likes you a lot, and I can see why. You're a heart-breaker. Not just because you're handsome, but because you're so sad. Trust my daughter. She will make you smile again."

"I trust her. It's myself I don't trust."

"Then you should. She loves unconditionally, my younger daughter. She's bright like a star, with a core of dark and steel. If you love her, give yourself to her. Jarett … " She squeezes my hand, and I look down at her. "You need to make new promises. Ones you can keep, and that will make you happy."