“Shower?” Charlotte asked. They’d discussed this when Becky had created her birth plan with Susan—the young woman had insisted she wasn’t going to the hospital without shaving her legs. Susan had laughed and assured her if the baby was coming fast enough, she wouldn’t be worried about hairy legs. Still, the shower was written into Becky’s plans.
Becky gave her a somewhat pained grin. “Before I called you.” She tugged one pant leg up to show off a swollen ankle. “See, no hair.”
Charlotte had always felt a connection to Becky, something special, but at that moment her heart swelled with such tenderness, it was as if Becky were her own daughter. She walked across the room and pulled her into a hug. Becky’s arms wrapped around her waist, gripping tight, and Charlotte felt her shaking.
“You’re gonna be just fine, hon, I promise,” she whispered into Becky’s hair, beginning a slow sway intended to soothe both their nerves, but especially Becky’s. “You daughter is on her way. Soon you’ll get to hold her in your arms.”
Becky laughed, then gasped. As she hunched over, Charlotte released her to give her room, rubbing a hand up and down the young woman’s back. “Still about every four minutes?” she asked.
Becky panted, one hand on her knee, one on Charlotte’s bicep to steady herself. “Yeah,” she said tightly.
As they breathed through the contraction, Charlotte pulled her cell from her pocket and dialed Susan one-handed.
“Didn’t I just see you today?” Susan asked by way of greeting. Her friend’s voice was sleepy but unsurprised.
“I think you’re gonna see us again in an hour or so at the hospital too.”
“I figured.” The sound of movement came through the line. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“Four minutes.”
Susan hummed in response. “I’d advise you to get her there ASAP. Teenage moms sometimes deliver pretty fast. There’s no telling how quickly she will progress.”
“We’re getting the entourage ready now,” Charlotte said, giving Becky a smile as the girl straightened, rubbing a hand over her belly.
“I’m ready,” Becky said. “Where are the rest of the slowpokes?”
A laugh came through the phone. “See you there.”
Charlotte hung up and went to find Becky’s shoes. By the time they were on, Charlotte’s mom had arrived. “We’re having a baby!”
Another contraction hit Becky. “Can we skip to the ‘we’ve had a baby’ part?” she groaned.
“You’re doing fantastic,” Charlotte told her. “Wait for this to pass and we’ll get you to the car.”
That’s exactly what they did. When Charlotte said they were preparing an entourage, she hadn’t realized how accurate that was. A line of three SUVs, all black with darkly tinted windows, waited in the driveway when they arrived. Mark and TC went into the first vehicle, Saint and Elliot into the third. Dain and King joined Charlotte, Becky, and her mom in the middle SUV.
“Why the caravan?” Kim asked Dain quietly as King helped Becky into the middle row of seats.
Dain kept his voice equally low, and Charlotte knew they were trying not to upset Becky. Security wasn’t a detail the young woman needed to worry over right now; she was doing the most important work, after all, bringing her baby into the world.
“In case someone starts following us,” he said. “Not likely, but we want to be ready for any eventuality. We’ll each peel off to go to a different hospital to confuse anyone who has eyes on us. The vehicles have all been searched, no tracking devices, no GPS hacks—they’re clean. Becky will be as safe as we can possibly make her. Elliot and Saint will meet us at the hospital after dropping off their vehicle so we will have the full force of the team protecting Becky while she’s there.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte said, choking up. That these men and women who hadn’t even known Becky two weeks ago considered issues Charlotte hadn’t even thought about, issues regarding Becky’s safety and the safety of her baby, filled her with gratitude.
“You are more than welcome,” Dain said, jerking his chin toward the SUV. “Hop in and we’ll go.”
There were no issues as they made their way to the hospital. Mark and TC exited the interstate at the regional hospital closest to the mansion, and Charlotte caught TC’s salute out the passenger-side window as they passed. The two men had kept mostly to the background, but she had spoken with them both several times and appreciated their intelligence and diligence. Saint and Elliot took the turn onto 285 a bit later. Dain drove through empty downtown streets before pulling into the maternity entrance for Women and Children’s Hospital a few miles north. An attendant exited the sliding doors with a wheelchair, and King came around to open the door to assist Becky out.
Susan met them at the entrance. “I’ve made special arrangements to have extra personnel present outside Becky’s room.” She turned to a burly man with a heavy gray beard standing beside her. “This is Tom Bautista, chief of security here.”
The man nodded in their direction.
Dain stepped forward to shake Bautista’s hand. “Dain Brannan. I head this motley crew. Let’s chat.”
The two men stepped aside as Susan escorted the rest of them down the hall. Charlotte’s mom filled out paperwork, and Charlotte held Becky’s hand through contractions until they were settled in a room and Susan shooed her out to check Becky’s progress. When she stepped into the hall, King was waiting.
“How’s she doing?” he asked, worried eyes scanning her face.
Charlotte smiled. “She’s strong.” Without thinking, she stepped close, laying her head against King’s broad chest as he took her hand. “My mom told me once, you do what you have to do, one step at a time, until you come out the other side.” She shuddered thinking of the dark days that had necessitated those words. This would be a happy occasion instead; she firmly believed that. “Becky’s taking it one step at a time. For someone with only sixteen years of life under her belt, she’s stronger than most of the people I’ve known.”
King dropped his head onto hers. “I think I’ve known someone stronger.”
Charlotte lifted up to look him in the eye. “Who?”
One side of his mouth tugged up. “You.” He smoothed some of the stray strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear. “Kim told you that when you lost the baby, didn’t she?”
His voice cracked on the word baby, and her heart broke in two. “She did.” Covering his hand, she pressed it against her cheek, absorbing the warmth of his skin into hers. “I wanted to die,” she said honestly. “You were gone. Our child was gone. And I didn’t want to live anymore. But I did, one day at a time, until I found a purpose, a reason to keep going.” She glanced over her shoulder at Becky’s door. “I’m very glad I did.”
King bent down until his lips brushed hers. “I am too.”
“Charlotte.”
Her mother’s voice had her jerking around like a guilty kid. King straightened behind her, but he didn’t let go. Instead he moved in to cradle her back, his arm coming around to settle against the flat of her stomach, holding her to him.
Her mom’s gaze dropped to that hand, raised to King’s face, then transferred to Charlotte. They stared at each other for a long moment, not truly a battle of wills, more like a searching, as if her mother needed to know something Charlotte couldn’t quite decipher.
Finally her mom spoke. “Susan says we can come in. Becky is dilated to six.”
“I’ll be there in a moment.”
Her mom’s lips tightened, but she went into Becky’s room without a word. Charlotte turned in King’s arms. “Looks like we’re having a baby tonight.”
King nodded. “We’ll be right here. No one is getting through us to get to her. Don’t worry about anything but Becky and her daughter.”
A daughter. Despite the ache that always struck her at the thought of a new baby, Charlotte felt excitement spark inside her as well. Becky was having her daughter tonight. And
Charlotte would be there to see it. She went on tiptoe and gave King a hasty kiss before turning away. “Be back soon.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Sophia Charlotte Jones.”
Charlotte’s heart clenched at the name Becky gave the nurse for her daughter’s birth certificate. “Becky, are you sure?”
Her friend lifted an eyebrow. “About my daughter’s name? Absolutely.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “It’s a beautiful name, Sophia.” But it was only part of the reason she was crying.
“So is Charlotte,” Becky said, rocking her sleeping daughter against her chest. “She’s named for a strong, sweet woman who made certain she came safely into this world. Without you…” Becky shook her head, and her eyes grew suspiciously wet too. “I’m not sure either one of us would have made it.”
Charlotte gave Becky a gentle sideways hug, careful not to squeeze the baby. “You would have—you’re far stronger than me. So is this little one,” she said.
“Why don’t we take Baby Sophia to the nursery?” the nurse asked, gathering the paperwork she’d completed. “You can have a little nap before her next feeding, Mama.”
Becky’s smile drooped at the edges. “I love hearing people call me that.” Reluctantly she lifted Sophia into Charlotte’s arms, letting her cuddle the baby long enough to get her to the bassinet. “It feels weird not to have her with me.”
“She’ll be perfectly safe in the nursery,” Charlotte reassured her. “The team is stationed throughout the floor, and Elliot will be right outside the nursery at all times to make sure no one gets in without authorization.”
“Not that we don’t already make sure of it,” the nurse pointed out.
“Doubling up on security never hurts.” Charlotte brushed the pink hat keeping Sophia’s tiny head warm with gentle fingers.
“True.” The nurse took hold of the handle at one end of the bassinet. “Get some sleep while you can, young lady.”
Becky’s lids were already getting low. Her labor hadn’t been long, but it hadn’t been short either. Three hours at home, four more at the hospital. Little Sophia had arrived just in time for breakfast after keeping her mom up all night. Becky watched them through half-open eyes, a smile on her face, as they took Sophia through the door.
King waited in the corridor outside. Becky’s room was situated halfway down the hall, as close as they’d been able to get her to the nursery with the other rooms already occupied. The elevators were at the end, square in the middle of the floor. To the left of them was a corridor leading to more rooms, and to the right was a hall leading to the nurses’ station and the nursery just beyond.
“Everything all right?” King asked. No matter how tired she was, Charlotte still felt a thrill just at the sight of him. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks where he hadn’t been able to shave this morning, giving him a rough edge that went with the tight tee and fatigues he wore. When his eyes lit and a smug smile curved his mouth, she knew he’d noticed her reaction.
“Everything’s fine,” the nurse said. “Just taking Sophia down for a nap.”
“Sophia, huh?” King’s grin widened. “I like it.” He leaned over the bassinet, eyeing the sleeping baby. “It fits.”
The cell in his pocket rang, a short, sharp couple of chirps that startled Sophia. King stepped back from the baby quickly. “Let me grab that.”
The nurse was already pushing the bassinet down the hall. With a quick glance at King, Charlotte followed her, hurrying until she was right beside the baby.
“He’s really something, isn’t he?” the nurse asked. “Is he attached?”
Charlotte turned to see the woman fanning her pink face, and couldn’t resist a chuckle. “He is something, isn’t he?” After all, she’d just been having the same reaction. “And he is definitely attached.” She leaned over conspiratorially. “But the hunk stationed with him is free.”
“The one with the Mohawk?”
“The other one.”
“Oh…Hispanic hottie?” A visible shiver hit her. “He’s definitely a sight. Where do they get all these good-looking men?”
Charlotte laughed, nodded her agreement. “I have no idea, but if there’s a formula, they could make a mint as a dating service, couldn’t they?”
They were coming up on the elevator, and she heard the bell signaling its arrival as they drew closer. The doors began to swing open, and for a moment she couldn’t believe what she was seeing as a man stepped off. A man she recognized. A man who shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t know they were here.
What the hell?
Hugh Moncrief latched on to her the minute the doors opened. “Hello, Charlotte,” he said, his smile confident despite the fact that he looked…rough. Worried. In fact he looked strangely like he hadn’t slept last night either.
Of course, he looked rough. His brother had died yesterday.
“Hugh, is something wrong?”
His gaze dropped to the bassinet, and his smile widened. “Not anymore.”
Before she could register the movement, he leaped toward her, leading with his fist. The punch connected with her temple, the impact sending her flying away from the bassinet onto the hard floor. The back of her head hit the tile. For a moment the room spun, went black, and then she was watching without truly registering as Hugh snatched Sophia from the bassinet and shoved the cart back at the nurse, knocking her down.
“No!”
∞
“Who is here?” King asked, certain he couldn’t have heard Dain right.
“Hugh Moncrief. He’s on the elevator headed your way.”
“Maybe he’s here to see Charlotte?” The minute the words were out of his mouth, the wrongness of them rang in his head. It would seem reasonable for Hugh to seek out his brother’s best friend the day after he’d committed suicide, except…Hugh shouldn’t know where they were. Even if he’d called the house, Ruth and Ben were under strict instructions not to mention their whereabouts.
And still Hugh, whose brother was dead, who could have been a carbon copy of his sibling, was here, at the hospital Becky had delivered at.
The same building that held a newborn wanted by a baby-selling ring.
“I don’t think so, King,” Dain said in his ear, cutting off his spinning thoughts. “Go get Elliot. I’ve got Saint headed your way.”
“Got it.” He pressed the End button just as a shout from the end of the corridor caught his attention.
“Shit!”
Charlotte took the punch directly to the face, too far away for King to stop it. Hugh, eyes frantic, scooped the pink-swathed bundle out of the cart, using it to push the nurse off her feet. King skidded to a stop next to Charlotte. “Okay?”
She nodded shakily, leveraging his body to get herself up off the floor. “He’s got the baby!”
Charlotte’s arm in his grip, he rushed them around the corner leading to the nursery, only to come skidding to a stop.
Hugh stood, frozen, in the middle of the hall next to the nurses’ station. King shifted closer to the wall and saw Saint standing at the opposite end, outside the nursery doors, his gun up and aimed at Hugh. “Put her down, man,” Saint said.
Hugh glanced over his shoulder, saw King and Charlotte, and glanced back at Saint. He lifted the baby higher on his chest with one arm, drawing a thin cry from her, his other hand reaching for the back of his waistband. King grimaced as his cousin pulled a handgun out and pointed it at the baby.
“Hugh, no!” Charlotte slipped King’s grip, making it three steps closer before King caught hold of her shirt and dragged her back. “Please, don’t do this! Give her to me!”
Hugh shook his head, glancing frantically back and forth between Saint and King. “There’s no giving her back. Don’t you get that? It’s her or me, and I’m sure as hell not going down for some stupid bitch’s kid.”
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together in King’s mind, stealing his breath. He struggled to form the words he need
ed. “You killed Wes?”
How? Why? God, what had Wes ever done that Hugh could shoot his own brother in the head?
“You were too close,” Hugh shouted, the gun going from Sophia’s head to aim at King. “You should have left well enough alone and none of this would have happened.”
“It was you all along?” Charlotte cried. “How? How could you sell innocent children, Hugh?”
He shrugged, his aim wavering between Charlotte and King too much for King’s peace of mind. “Easy money. They were being adopted anyway; why not make my own life easier along the way.”
“They weren’t all willing,” Charlotte snarled, “and you knew that! You knew it when Richard Jones made the deal for his grandchild, then tried to kill me.”
“And that would have been the end of it if you’d just let it go!” Hugh shifted the baby in his hold again. The loud noises and clumsy grip had Sophia crying harder now, face red with anger. “Wes had all the details I needed—the families, the babies. I matched them with that stupid nurse and gave her a push to pass my name along. Well, not my name”—he shrugged—“but I’d picked up enough jargon along the way to impersonate a lawyer when I needed to.” He took a step back, glanced over his shoulder at Saint, then stopped. “It was the perfect setup until you ruined it, Charlotte, calling them in.” A jerk of the gun toward King.
Down the corridor, King saw Saint moving forward. Dain and Elliot weren’t in sight, but he knew they were here somewhere. The thought was confirmed when the door to the stairs at the end of the hall behind Saint opened and Dain stepped out.
Now where was Elliot hiding?
Hugh noticed the addition and blanched, pointing the gun back at Sophia’s head. While his attention was on King’s teammates, King eased forward, trying to get to Charlotte to pull her behind him.
Deny Me (Southern Nights Enigma Book 4) Page 20
