Evelyn was his father’s sister and she and Luke’s mother, Wynona, were close in age and had become good friends. Evelyn had suspected that her brother might be violent behind closed doors, but hadn’t wanted to believe it. Wynona had hidden the evidence of her beatings well and was terrified of her husband. But when Evelyn had found her on the eve of Luke’s tenth birthday, beaten to the point she couldn’t use her right arm, she knew she had to do something.
But Wynona had resisted. Her own beginnings were vague, to say the least, and she had no money of her own. She depended on David for everything. She’d tolerated the beatings for a few more months, but when he’d beaten Luke that first time, both Wynona and Evelyn knew they had to get out fast before he did irreparable damage to Luke.
Evelyn had helped them run and had kept them hidden from Luke’s father. His father hadn’t even known the extent of her involvement in their disappearance. Before Luke turned eleven, he and his mother had new identities. She’d met Keenan Roark less than one year later. Keenan had lost his wife a few years prior and was raising Jake and Alec on his own. Keenan and Wynona were a natural fit for one another and although it had taken her some time, she’d confessed her story to him and he’d taken her in, even marrying her and adopting Luke as his own son. Luke took the Roark name and thought he’d locked the door on his past. But Evelyn’s call told him clearly that wasn’t the case.
He walked into his apartment and set his keys down. The smell of the ruined curry saturated his senses, reminding him once again of the disastrous turn of events. If only she hadn’t heard his conversation with Evelyn, he’d be making love to her now in his bed.
Stop it, he thought to himself. He was not going there.
Luke cleared the table and put everything into the dishwasher before retreating to his study. He couldn’t think about Emma now. His father was dying, that was what Evelyn had said. So why did he care? Hadn’t he always thought David Lyons could rot in hell? He’d never spoken about those years of his life, not with his new dad or with his brothers, although he suspected Keenan had shared some details with Jake and Alec.
He sat at his desk and switched on the lamp. From inside a desk drawer, he retrieved an old photograph he kept hidden there. It was one of him when he was just two. His mom smiled a huge smile into the camera while holding his hand and his dad had his hands on her shoulders. He was smiling too.
Luke shook his head and picked up the phone.
“Evelyn,” he said when she answered.
Emma drove Celia’s VW Bug to the hospital. Once there, she parked and went inside, heading for the elevators.
“I’m here, Nate, where are you?” she said into her cell phone.
“Maternity. I’ll meet you at the elevators.”
He sounded better, which gave her hope. “Anything new?” she dared to ask.
“No.”
The elevator doors opened. “I’ll see you in a minute. I’m just getting into the elevator.”
Nothing new was ok, right? Was better than things going the wrong way. She tapped her foot for the seconds-long ride up and when the doors opened, she ran straight into Nate.
“Hey,” he said, catching her by the shoulders.
“Hey.” She searched his face. When she’d spoken to him earlier, he’d explained how Celia had complained about cramps that afternoon. “How are Celia and the baby?”
“Celia’s ok, she’s recovering after the C-section. Nate Jr.…”
“Nate Jr.?” She smiled and cried at the same time.
Nate smiled but, although his eyes were red, didn’t cry. “He’s so small, Em.” Nate turned away. “Celia was complaining about feeling strange, but when I pushed, she said it wasn’t anything. We were about to have dinner.” Now the tears started. “I’d just put the plates out and when I heard her fork fall, I turned to find her white as a sheet, clutching her stomach. We got here as fast as we could.”
Emma put his hand in both of hers as they reached Celia’s door. Nate opened it and they stood for a moment watching her while she slept.
“Can I see the baby?”
Nate nodded and led her to the NICU. Her mouth opened at the sight of the tiny baby, skinny arms and legs, a diaper too big, with tubes attached in too many places. Nate Jr. lay still, sleeping. Thoughts of her own baby, now long gone, occupied her mind for a moment, but Nate needed her now. He and Celia both needed her.
“He’s strong, look at him. He’ll be ok, Nate. They deal with this stuff all the time here, it will be ok.”
Nate wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to him. “I’m scared, Em,” he said.