Be My Hero

by Linda Kage

  "It hurts," I told him. It wouldn't hurt so bad if Skylar was okay, would it? Something had to be wrong.

  Something was wrong with my baby.

  "I know, baby. I know." Crooning, Pick pulled me closer and stood.

  Nausea filled me as another band of pain tightened around my abdomen. I tried the breathing technique I'd used when my father had brutalized me. Long, even breaths. But I couldn't seem to calm down enough to stop the fast, shallow pants. I thought I was going to vomit when I was suddenly sky-born and lifted off the ground. Oh, God. Vertigo made my head swim and my stomach convulse.

  "Well?" Pick's voice barked. No clue who he was talking to. "Let's get her to the hospital."

  I checked out for a minute, refusing to think about anything but his smell clouding my nose. It was hard to think anyway. So I let his scent, which reminded me of coconut tanning oil, make me miss the only thing from Florida that actually made me feel at home. A nice, warm sunny day. The beach. Sand and the soft spray of a wet ocean.

  Pressed up against this man who smelled like my favorite kind of sunny day lulled me. I was home again.

  People were talking around me, but I didn't really register what they were saying. To focus on words would be to focus on the pain and on what might be happening to the baby inside me.

  I clenched my eyes shut and curled deeper into Pick. At that moment, he was the only thing in my universe.

  "Hey, it's going to be okay," he murmured into my ear, his voice finally strong with confidence and reassurance.

  I clung to that reassurance.

  He jostled me enough to let me know we were sliding into a car, then I was nestled on his lap and his arms readjusted to hold me close. I couldn't stop squeezing the front of his shirt. Occasional starts of pain would breach my consciousness, but I was good at blocking unpleasant things. I'd done it for years.

  So I shoved them right back out. I absolutely refused to acknowledge that anything bad could happen to Skylar.

  It wasn't until we veered sharply around a corner that another shock of pain startled me out of my safe place.

  "Easy," Pick barked at whoever was driving.

  "Damn, man," a male voice I didn't readily recognize shot back. "I'm trying here. Your car's got more power than I'm used to."

  I whimpered and Pick's lips instantly hovered over my ear, his breath warm and soothing. "We're getting you there, Tink. Just a little bit longer."

  "My baby," I managed to rasp.

  "She's okay. She's going to be just fine. Nothing is going to happen to that precious little angel. I promise you."

  "How . . . ?" There was no way he could make such a promise.

  "She's fine. I've seen her," he whispered, before choking back what might've been a sob. "And she's beautiful. Absolutely perfect. She's got your amazing blue eyes and the sweetest little cherub face, kind of shaped like a heart. And her hair's dark with the slightest curl. She has a cowlick in her bangs, right here." He pressed his lips to a spot on the right side of my forehead, just at my hairline, where I did not have a cowlick. "Her bottom lip's fuller than the top, and her nose turns up slightly at the end, just like yours."

  If he'd used all my features to describe her, I would've had a harder time believing him. But the mention of a cowlick and dark hair—so unlike me—made me envision the child he described until she became a living, breathing creature again. She was alive, and she'd stay that way.

  This time, instead of blocking the pain, I embraced it. Still clutching Pick's shirt with one hand, I gripped my belly with the other. "I'm not going to lose her," I promised him.

  "No, you're not," he said. "You're going to fight for this little girl, and she's going to make it. You both are."

  Chapter 13

  PICK

  As a frantic E.R. staff wheeled Eva away on a stretcher, I collapsed onto the nearest bench I saw and pressed my back to the wall, closing my eyes. Unable to hold her any longer, my hands began to shake, so I gripped the edge of the bench for dear life.

  Reese paced by me as she chattered on her phone, talking a million miles a minute to a dozen different people. Noel, who'd driven us to the hospital, was lingering nearby, and Mason, who'd stayed back at the apartment to take care of the guy I'd damn-near killed for touching my Tinker Bell, was still absent.

  All the while, I couldn't stop feeling the wetness of Eva's blood soak through my shirt.

  What the fuck had I been thinking?

  I'd stood outside that garage, listened in on her conversation with her ex, and I'd done nothing. Nothing!

  It didn't matter that Noel had kept telling me not to intervene; it was none of my business. I'd felt the violence oozing off him. I'd known he was a hair trigger away from unleashing it on her.

  Why the hell hadn't I just walked into the garage, made my presence known, and diffused some of the anger? She could've still gotten her big, closure conversation with him while I was standing right there, openly listening to everything.

  But shit, I'd let Gamble talk me into thinking it was best to let her have this moment on her own. And that bastard had gotten in way too many punches before I'd been able to reach him.

  Pinning him to the wall by the throat, jacking him in the face with a wrench, and kicking him in the balls hadn't been nearly enough before Gamble had managed to pull me off him. I still regretted inviting that bastard to come with me tonight. He might be all torn up over losing his woman, but his helping to convince me to stay back might've just lost me mine.

  I gulped and tried not to freak out.

  No, we weren't going to lose Eva tonight. She was going to be okay. The baby was going to be okay. Everyone was going to be okay, except maybe her baby daddy. I kind of hoped he died.

  But there'd been so much blood coming from her. I choked out a sound and surged to my feet to pace.

  "Hey, man." Gamble grabbed my shoulder as I passed him, but I shrugged him off and sent him a death glare.

  He obligingly lifted his hands away from me, but kept talking. "You okay? Let me see your hands."

  "They're fine." I'd barely gotten two punches into Alec Worthington. Everything on my body was perfectly fine. He should be worried about Eva.

  Fuming, I stepped closer to him, needing to unload some of my anger and fear. "Why the fuck did you keep pulling me back? Why—?" When I realized accusing him would solve nothing and only make me regret my words later, I whirled away and stalked off.

  Feeling lost, I roamed the halls, staring blindly at framed pictures of stupid pink flowers on the walls. I didn't stop walking until I found myself in the opening of the hospital chapel.

  It was eerily quiet inside, the lights were dimmed, and a creepy-looking Madonna statue tipped her head to the side and clasped her hands to her bosom as she sent me a sympathetic stare. I'd never stepped foot inside a church before, but I did now, needing something. Anything.

  I sat down in the last pew in the back and stared at the statue, who kept staring back.

  I knew I shouldn't feel so shredded about this. I'd known Eva for what, two weeks? She wasn't the girl I'd been dreaming about for ten years. She was a perfect stranger, and if she or her child didn't make it through the night, it wouldn't be the end of my life. But convincing myself of that was impossible.

  I didn't want her to die. I didn't want that little baby who'd kicked my hand through her belly to die. I wanted to look into her eyes again and let her fix me up with another Mohawk. I just wanted more time with her.

  Glancing up at the worried Madonna, I sent her a respectful nod. "Thanks," I said, and slipped out of the chapel. It wasn't until I was walking by the closed gift shop and saw the stuffed pig Skylar had been holding in my glimpse that I really calmed down. It was like a sign, telling me she was going to be okay. She still had a pig waiting for her love.

  My cell phone rang as I headed back toward the waiting room.

  With a sigh, I answered, "Tristy, I can't talk right now."

  "He won't stop crying," sh
e shouted, totally frantic. "I don't know what to do."

  Torn between needing to stay and find out what had happened to Eva and needing to help Tristy and Fighter, I gnashed my teeth. I could hear him wailing through the phone.

  "Did you check his diaper?"

  "I just fucking changed it."

  With a sigh, I ran my hand over my hair. "And you fed him?"

  She growled at me. "Yes! I'm not a fucking moron."

  A bit my tongue to keep from responding to that. "Tris, I can't come home right now. Someone got hurt; I'm at the hospital. Why don't you actually trying taking him out of his swing and holding him."

  She called me a dirty name but stopped talking for a moment because, as I suspect, he'd been in his swing and she was finally pulling him out. His screams almost immediately tempered.

  "Isn't it crazy how well that works," I murmured into the phone, my voice acidic.

  "You don't have to be a dick about it," she grumbled before adding, "He's still kind of fussy."

  "Okay, fine. Put the phone to his ear."

  "What?"

  "Let him hear my voice."

  "That's stupid."

  "Will you just shut up and try it? It’s soothed him before."

  "Fine." A second later, I heard heavy breathing and a scuffle against the speaker before he cooed. I smiled. "Hey, kiddo. I hear you're giving your mom a hard time. Think you could try calming down for her until I can get home? I swear, I'll rock you in the chair twice as long as I usually do when I get back."

  "Fuck, it's actually working," I heard Tristy's voice in the background. "Keep talking."

  So I started singing to him. Halfway through "Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down, I saw Noel rush around the corner. When he spotted me, he started waving wildly.

  They must've gotten word on Eva and the baby.

  "I gotta go," I said, cutting into my own song.

  "It's okay," Tris said. "He's fallen asleep."

  "Good." I hung up on her and sprinted around the corner to follow Noel.

  " . . . and there was significant enough trauma to the uterus to cause a placental abruption," a doctor was telling Reese and Mason, who must've showed up while I was trying not to freak the hell out. He wrapped his arms around Reese and pulled her close as the doctor kept talking.

  I had no clue what a placental abruption was, but it didn't sound good. Instantly nauseous, I slumped back onto the bench I'd sat on before to rest my elbows on my knees and bury my face into my hands.

  I'd promised her the baby would be okay. I'd described Skylar to her and given her my word of honor, but—

  "We had to do an emergency cesarean section. The good news was the placenta was low in the uterus when it abrupted. That's why there was so much external blood loss, but it cut down on the internal bleeding and everything was successful when the baby was delivered."

  I lifted my face in surprise just as Reese yelped, "You mean, the baby's alive?"

  With a slow nod, the doctor confirmed it. "She's up in NICU, but you'll have to consult her pediatrician for the infant's update."

  Reese slumped down next to me, tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, God. Oh, thank God." Then she blurted out a happy laugh. "They both made it. They both—wait. They both made it? Right? Eva's okay, too?"

  The air in my lungs stalled when the doctor hesitated. I gulped and wanted to vomit all over the floor. No, this couldn't be happening. I'd just met her. After all this time of waiting for her, I meet her two times and she dies? No. No way in hell.

  "A case of shock affected her kidney," the doctor finally admitted. "She's showing signs of diffuse cortical necrosis, so we've put her on dialysis. But her status is holding steady."

  Again, no clue what any of that meant. All I really heard was steady, and to me, that said still alive.

  Alive was good. It was frigging amazing. Tink was alive.

  Reese hugged herself, and her voice shook as she asked, "Can we see her? Either of them?"

  "I'm sure you can look at the baby through the window in the maternity ward, but I'll have to send a nurse out when the mother is stable enough for visitors."

  We all nodded in understanding, and the doctor left. Noel took off not long after that, having heard all the important stuff. But I wasn't going anywhere until I got an eyeful of both girls. I needed visual proof they were okay.

  I followed Reese and Mason up to the maternity ward and then to a window, where they opened the blinds to let us see Skylar.

  Lying in the incubator, a little red human had a respiratory tube plugged into her mouth while I.V. lines and monitor patches on her chest made her look like she was on the brink of death.

  I sucked in a hard breath. Next to me, Reese whimpered and covered her mouth with both hands. "She's so tiny. How could something so tiny possibly manage to survive?"

  I swayed, a little dizzy with worry. Reese was right. She was so small and frail. What if Skylar still didn't make it?

  Trying not to panic, I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the glass.

  Mason placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "Hey, Alec and I made a deal. He's not going to tell anyone what you did to him . . . not if he doesn't want us telling the authorities what he did to Eva. So, you don't have to worry about getting into trouble or anything. Okay?"

  Getting into trouble because of that douche had been the very last thing I'd been worrying about. Going to jail for trying to kill him over what he'd done to Eva would've been an honor.

  I pointed into the window, feeling bitter. "So then, he gets away without even a slap on the hand for doing this?"

  "Trust me, man. You messed him up pretty good. I'm almost positive he'll be spitting and pissing blood for quite a while."

  It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough, but I said, "Good."

  They didn't let us in to see Eva for another hour. Reese and I camped outside the window and watched Skylar most of that time. The nurses checked her vitals frequently, and a few times she'd squirm a little, but mostly, the little princess was pretty quiet.

  Tinker Bell was probably pissed as hell because she couldn't see her.

  And that's exactly the first thing she asked about when we entered her room.

  "Have you seen her?"

  I froze in the doorway. She was yellow and swollen, so fucking swollen. Her eyes, face, and neck were puffed out to ridiculous proportions and it seemed hard for her to see. All sorts of tubes and machines were hooked up to her, keeping her going.

  Panic clawed at my throat, but I swallowed it down and silently followed Reese, though I stopped at the end of the bed, unable to move closer.

  Reese grasped Eva's hand and grinned. "She's so small, E. Like a miniature, perfectly-shaped little human with a head full of dark hair . . . like me."

  Tears trickled down Eva's puffy cheeks while she smiled. "Does she? She's okay then? They keep telling me so, but I can't go see her. I can't—"

  "Shh." Reese leaned down and kissed Eva's forehead. "You'll have the rest of your life with her. Just lay back and relax so you can heal."

  Her cousin's words seemed to reach her because she calmed down after that. Mason hung back with me, watching them with worried eyes. When he caught my gaze, he gulped down a guilty-looking cringe. "I feel like such a piece of shit right now," he murmured under his breath. "I told that idiot where she was. I swear to God, I had no idea he'd do this. I thought he was going to step up and finally help out."

  Glad I wasn't the only one carrying around a shit-bag of guilt, I clasped his shoulder. "At least you didn't wait around until he was actually punching her in the stomach before breaking into their talk."

  Mason opened his mouth to respond, but Eva suddenly said, "Is that Pick I hear?"

  I turned to her. I wanted to get down on my knees and beg her forgiveness. I wanted to show her how much it hurt to see her like this, how scared I was for both her and her daughter. But I choked. "Of course, it's me."

  I moved toward her and gently took the swoll
en, needle-stuck hand as she held it out to me. Shit, her grip was weak. "You did good, Tink. That little girl is so damn cute." I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  Turning my way, she brushed the side of her face against mine. "Thank you. Thank you so much for being there tonight. You saved both me and my little girl."

  A trembling breath shuddered from my lungs. I pressed my forehead to hers and finally let some of my feelings slip. "I almost got you killed, is what I did. I listened to you guys talk, and I didn't step in. Not until it was too fucking late. I am so, so sorry I let him that close to you."

  A hand touched my hair. I closed my eyes.

  "Listen to me, Patrick Jason Ryan. You are my hero, and you have nothing to apologize for."

  She must've sensed I didn't believe her because she tightened her grip. "You are. You're my hero."

  "I'm still sorry," I whispered, unable to combat the guilt.

  "I'm not." She shook her head and sent me a trembling smile. If you hadn't come over tonight, I'd be dead right now. My daughter would be dead right now. Why can't you understand that?"

  I opened my lashes and met her gaze. Maybe this was the reason I'd had those glimpses. If I hadn't seen her in my head, I wouldn't have been fascinated with her for the past ten years, ergo I wouldn't have been so eager to visit Mason's house tonight. And if I hadn't come over, no one would've been here to stop her ex from killing her. Leaning in, I kissed our entwined hands, so very grateful she was still alive.

  "I'll never let anything bad ever happen to you again. I swear it."

  It was a promise I meant from the bottom of my soul.

  Chapter 14

  EVA

  From that day forward, my life changed completely.

  As soon as I could walk and the nurses allowed me to leave my hospital bed, I shuffled like a stoop-shouldered old woman to the NICU to sit with Skylar. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. But looking at her scared the crap out of me. She was so little, so breakable and delicate. How was I supposed to protect her and care for her? I knew absolutely nothing about any of this.