She is the most important part of me.
She’s the only part of me that truly matters.
“You okay back there, son?” Dad’s voice questions, the shakiness in it telling me he’s not as strong as he lets on.
“Yep,” I clip out and meet his eyes in the mirror with a firm gaze of my own. “I just want to get Baylee taken care of. That’s all that matters to me, Dad.”
He presses the accelerator and we glide around a slower car as he makes his way back to the hospital. We’d left Stark and the fucking chaos of emergency vehicles to get medical attention for both myself and Baylee with the promise they’d be by later to question us.
“Ten minutes, War. Hang in there kiddo.”
Her hot breaths as she sleeps burn through my jeans on the top of my thigh, almost scalding me. I stroke away her hair and admire her pretty, blood-stained face.
So beautiful.
So perfect.
So worth the fight.
I can look at her blood smeared face without losing my fucking mind because it’s her. It’s not blood and disease and disgust. It’s her. Bay. Deserving of love and so much more. She’s mine to love and care for. And I won’t fucking let her down.
Jerking my head back up when we hit a speed bump, I let out a relieved breath to see we’re turning down the side road that’ll lead us right to the hospital. When we pull up to the front, Dad jumps out of the car and hurries to open my car door. Baylee sits up, groggy from her short nap, and her frantic eyes dart around.
She’s looking for him.
Expecting him to step out from a shadow.
To take her again to do only God knows what.
But he’s not here.
As she realizes this, she climbs out with Dad’s assistance and I all but jump out after her, eager to keep her close to me. My eyes fixate on the crusty smears on her cheek and I reach for her, the urge to touch her as necessary as my next breath. The blood doesn’t scare me anymore. The pale skin and disoriented look on her face does though. When her knees buckle, I’m there to gather her light frame into my arms. People are shouting around us but I hold my girl to me.
I won’t let you fall, Bay.
Not now, not ever.
“Son, you need to readmit yourself. You don’t look well.” Dad’s concerns roll off me and I blow them off.
Nothing matters except her.
When she fainted earlier, they rushed to admit her. I stayed by her side, clutching her small hand, while they assessed her. She was severely dehydrated and in dire need of fluids. Now that she’s being taken care of properly, the color is beginning to return to her face. Her soft, rhythmic breaths as she sleeps are music to my ears.
And yes, I count every fucking one of them.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him as I run my thumb across the top of her hand, ignoring the searing ache in my chest. I could really use some pain meds but it’ll have to wait. The last time I closed my eyes, Brandon took her right out from under my nose. I’m not eager to leave her vulnerable again.
“Warren, she’s going to be okay. But if you don’t get back into a bed soon, you won’t be okay. She needs you to be strong for her. Besides, there’s a uniformed cop just outside her door. Nothing will happen to her.”
I process his words. If she were awake and coherent, she’d be pressuring me to get medical attention. He’s right. I do need to get better for her. She would want it that way.
“Fine, but you stay with her. Just to be safe. She only has us, Dad. Take care of her for me,” I tell him gruffly as I stand on shaky legs. “Promise me.”
“Of course,” he vows, his voice serious and it comforts me.
Leaning forward, I run my thumb along her now clean cheek and then press my lips to hers. “I love you, beautiful. Take care of yourself and our baby. We’ll go home soon and put this behind us. I swear to you I’ll make it all better.”
Her eyes flutter open and she smiles, albeit a small, quick one, before she slips back into a much needed sleep. I kiss her one more time and then stand. The room spins, my dizziness overwhelming me, and I stumble. Dad, thankfully, is there to prevent me from careening to the floor that I know for a fact is crawling with disgusting microorganisms. He ushers me over to the door and calls over a nurse.
“My son needs a room. And preferably one nearby. I need to look after both my kids.”
The nurse finds me a wheelchair and not long after, she’s wheeling me into a room three doors down from Baylee. Three is my lucky number. When she begins turning down the blankets, I shudder. All of the horrors from the day wash over me like the black fucking plague.
“Are you okay?” she questions from the bedside, alarm marring her features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”