by Cora Kenborn
But I was still me, and he was still him, and our relationship was still based on mutual torture.
So, I screwed with him.
“You’re so sweet to stay with me,” I said, running my fingernails down his arm. He jumped and caught his lower lip in between his teeth in confusion.
“Huh?”
“Instead of going after Iris. You’re staying with me. That’s sweet.” Holding in laughter at his widened eyes then smirking lips hurt more than half of my labor.
“I am sweet.” A devil’s smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I’m giving you ten more seconds before I bolt for an offspring mugging.”
Moving my arms, I wiped matted hair away from my eyes. “Do it and lose a testicle, Bale.”
“Why do women always threaten the boys when challenged?”
“Because men make the face you just made.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just the threat of testicular violence makes men cry.”
“You need to learn to curb the family jewels talk in front of my daughter, wife.” Lifting himself from the chair, he dropped a light kiss on my lips before turning toward the door.
“Wait a minute…your daughter?” I glanced down at my still inflated stomach. “Don’t mind me. I was only a human hotel for thirty-one weeks and then tortured for over twelve hours.”
The smile faded from his face. “I’m sorry. It kills me you were alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. Ryker was incredible.” I rested my hand against my heart. “I knew you’d be here. That’s why I kept fighting everyone. I knew you’d come. Even if you didn’t.”
A slow breath soundlessly blew past his lips. “She is really beautiful, isn’t she? She looks like you. Just like I wanted her to.”
“It’s a good thing too, because guys don’t dig chicks with goatees and fucked up hair.” Ryker stood in the doorway with a bag of nacho tortilla chips in one hand and a super-sized fountain drink in the other. Neither one of us heard him open the door.
“Found the cafeteria, I see.” Julian smirked dryly.
Ryker smiled, his teeth coated with orange powder. “I needed food. Keeping my junk out of your wife’s hands for twelve hours wears a dude out.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Julian threw an amused look my way. “So, you make a habit out of threatening my family’s protruding parts?”
I flipped my middle finger at Ryker as my cheeks flamed. “It hurt, okay? I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”
“I’m hoping the part where you threatened to end my life was one of them,” Ryker said, crunching down on a chip.
“I did not say that!”
Lifting his eyes to the ceiling, Ryker forced his voice an octave higher. “Yes, you did. I believe your words were…‘I swear to god, if you don’t get your skinny ass out there right now and find me something to shoot in this IV, I’ll fucking kill you right here.’”
I doubled the finger waves as Ryker stuck his tongue out. Chuckling, Julian backed away. “While this is entertaining, I’ve got another princess upstairs waiting for me.” He gave me a quick side glance. “I love you. Thanks for making me a dad.”
The huskiness in his tired voice stirred the constant pull toward him. “I love you too. Thanks for making me a mom.”
Julian calmly tipped his head in Ryker’s direction, his expression raw as he walked through the doorway toward our new life.
***
“Do you know who I am? I’m Chloe Michaels, asshole.”
I listened to the commotion outside my door. I knew my sister. Whoever was outside my door, it wasn’t her.
Without a knock, the door flew open and Kristina Graham stood there, her face red and puffy, her chest heaving. She looked like she’d run from the lobby all the way up the stairwell to the ninth floor.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Bad day?”
She blew a long piece of auburn hair out of her face. “That man you live with is a prick that needs to be neutered.” Slamming the door, she flounced into the chair and dropped her purse.
“Well, you wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that. What happened?”
Scrunching up her face, she lowered her voice and mimicked him. “Drop everything and get to the hospital, Kristina. I pay your salary, Kristina. Tell them you’re Chloe Michaels, Kristina. Do as I say or find yourself on your ass, Kristina.” She leaned forward and stared at me. “In one damn sentence, do you think he could’ve said please, or for the love of god told me to abort mission before putting the entire hospital on lockdown?”
I grimaced. There was no telling what the nurses had put her through. “Was it bad?”
“Bad?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Well, after that pat down, I don’t think I’ll be needing my gyno visit this year.”
Stifling a grin, I glanced down at my blankets. “He’s just a little overprotective right now.”
“Yeah, well, with all the creepy-ass shit going down, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
“What do you mean? What creepy-ass shit?” I could tell she didn’t want to tell me something. That only reinforced my resolve to hear it.
“It’s nothing.”
“Kristina…”
“Somebody hacked into our system at the office and canceled Julian and Zane’s flight from Seattle to LA, that’s all.”
“That’s all?”
She sighed. “And right before that, someone named Frank called the Stone Acer show from Hollywood Hills. It really freaked him out. He said something about ‘Dalton has some balls.’”
My throat constricted. “Did you say Dalton?”
“Yeah, didn’t he tell you?”
I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t. My blood was boiling. The whole time, I’d been led to believe his flight got canceled due to mechanical failure…not sabotage.
He never said anything about a caller from Hollywood Hills.
He lied again. And just like that, we were back to square one.
Chapter Thirty
Julian
The slow beep of the ventilator echoed from the machine beside the incubator. Watching the machine expand and deflate, I eventually felt my own chest begin to rise and fall in a synchronized rhythm. Telling myself this was standard operating procedure for premature babies seemed laughable. Nothing was standard when it came to Iris.
A ventilator tube blew oxygen into her nose, and a lump formed in my throat. She looked fragile. I stood behind my glass prison and watched with a guarded eye.
During the walk to the NICU, I checked my voice mail and texts for anything from Jaxon Hough or Kristina. In all the excitement, I’d had a momentary reprieve from Daniel Dalton. The constant push and pull of trying to keep a positive face in front of Phoebe, and wondering where he was hiding, had me ready to fall over in exhaustion. It took three floors before I realized Ryker was with me.
Sandwiched between the NICU door and the registration desk, our scowls mirrored each other as I elbowed him in the gut. I didn’t need a keeper. “Did she send you to babysit me?”
He crunched another tortilla chip in my ear. “Nope. I just know you.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’re up to something. You’re my brother, I know you.”
“I’m a new father, Ry. So I’m a little protective.” I gave my name to the receptionist and handed her my driver’s license for identification. She handed me a form as she filled out an ID bracelet.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he whispered, following suit with his own identification. I signed all waivers for grandparents, siblings, and immediate friends allowed to visit Iris. I made sure only Phoebe, Mom, Ryker, and I were allowed to be with her alone. I had power and I’d fucking use it.
“Not now, Ry,” I warned as the receptionist buzzed us into the NICU door. “Not in the mood.” Wisely, he let the issue drop and we approached the closest incubator. I didn’t have to see the name written on the laminated pocket card. I’d already committed the shock of raven hair
and heart-shaped lips to memory.
I knew my daughter at first glance.
My hands immediately reached out to her and a nurse with a ponytail so tight I had no idea how the bitch even opened her eyes snapped at me. “No touching while I’m examining the baby.”
Ryker spoke first. “He’s the father.”
“That may be true, but unless he knows how to hook up a ventilator and attach EKG monitors, he needs to stand back while we do our jobs.” Before turning back to Iris, the younger nurse cleared her throat and nodded to the paperwork in her hand. Sighing, she waved a hand over her shoulder. “No one’s asking you to leave, but we can’t help her if you don’t trust us.”
The younger nurse smiled apologetically as she motioned for my wrist. After scanning Ryker’s and my arm bands against Iris’s, she glared at her counterpart. “Mr. Bale, we understand your particular situation. This is Los Angeles. We know who you are, and we know there are special precautions. We’ve stationed security guards outside the NICU and outside of Miss Ryan’s room for safety.” She tapped the bright orange wristbands on her own wrist. “The only people who’ll have these wristbands are the people you designate. No one can pass through that door without one of these.” As she gently stuck heart-shaped stickers onto Iris’s tiny chest, I half listened, focused on the wiggling infant beneath her. “Not only that, they must scan and match perfectly. So, you see, we’re making things safe for baby Ryan.”
The room filled with uneasy silence. I stepped forward to touch Iris again, but redirected to my chin as I scratched my heavy beard. “Bale.”
“Excuse me?” She lifted a lone eyebrow in confusion.
“I said, Bale.”
“Yes, Mr. Bale. I told you we know who you are.”
“You said Ryan. It’s Bale. Her name is Iris Bale.”
The puzzled look on her face expanded. “Fine, Mr. Bale. We’re just going by what was written on the chart.”
“You wrote it wrong.”
“Julian, let them examine the baby and shut up.” Ryker sighed, pulling me to the side. The nurses continued their poking and prodding. He stood shoulder to shoulder with me, his face every bit as critical as mine. Apparently, indignation ran strong in our family. “You’re being an asshole,” he whispered. “This isn’t about your misguided male ego.”
“Let it go, Ry.” I had no idea why, but voicing my fears to my brother made them real, and I didn’t want my happiness and that man’s darkness meshing in this room.
“The more you fight with everyone the longer it’ll take for them to be done. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell don’t want to be within fifty feet of your woman when she finds out the reason she hasn’t been wheeled in here is because her husband’s a paranoid psycho.”
I folded my arms across my chest and continued to watch with silent scrutiny. How did I tell my brother that Phoebe’s father filled my head with nightmares that kept me up at night?
Father.
The word weighted with gold in that moment. In a matter of minutes my life had changed more drastically than when Helena and Circa Records had plucked us from obscurity into the life of celebrities. I’d witnessed the birth of my heart, then watched as white coats hooked it up to wires and a ventilator.
“Is it always going to be like this?”
“Like what?” Ryker said in a low voice.
I tilted my chin toward the NICU beds that housed fifteen tiny infants. “Constant worry about both of them. I’ve not cared about anything for so long, this putting others first thing is exhausting.”
Life before Phoebe was simple. Music. Booze. Women. I didn’t care about much else. She changed me, and I felt like a foreigner in my own skin with no way to navigate the road ahead.
“No idea, bro. Hell, I dropped out of college. I’m banking on a life of tour buses and backstage orgies. I have no idea what it feels like to be you.” He shifted his weight. “But I can tell you I had the perfect vantage point when Iris was born.”
I locked eyes with him. “Ryker, I’d hate to kick your ass in front of medical personnel.”
“No, dumbass, I’m not talking about that vantage point. Although, trust me,” he held his palms up for effect, “there’s not enough tequila in the world to block some of the images in my head now.” I savored the embarrassment flushing his face, and he cleared his throat. “I meant that I saw you.”
“Yes, I saw you too. We all saw each other.”
He shook his head in frustration and stepped around me. “No, she was born, and something changed in your face. I can’t explain it. It’s like I saw you become a dad. I’ve never seen that expression from you.”
I stared at the floor before uncrossing my arms and scrubbing my face with both hands. God, lack of sleep drained the life from me. My body screamed for rest but that was a luxury for the foreseeable future. I had a family to protect from a homicidal madman.
“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you.”
“For what?”
I motioned to the NICU beds. “Taking care of my family like they were your own.”
“Julian, they are my family. That little girl is my niece.” We stood quietly, trying to find the right words to say. Finally, he shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. “But I’ll tell you one thing I learned from all this.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m adopting.”
Laughter doubled me over. Staring at my brother with a new appreciation, I stuck my hand out in front of me, my fingers almost touching his chest.
He quirked an eyebrow. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m trying to thank you. If I didn’t know you were with her, and…damn it, Ry. Just shake my hand.”
Ryker made no attempt to move. Just before I sighed and drew my hand back, he stepped forward and hooked both arms around me. Moments of understood silence passed as I hugged my brother. We were so lost in fighting reserved emotions, we didn’t hear the footsteps behind us until a female cleared her throat. Breaking our awkward embrace, I focused on the receptionist standing before me wringing her hands.
“Mr. Bale, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m leaving for the day, and I forgot to give this to you.” She held out a plain white envelope. I took it from her, turning it over and back to the front again. It was blank.
“Who sent this?”
“A man was here before you arrived, sir.” The constant hand wringing made me want to grab her wrists. “He wanted to see the baby, but you hadn’t authorized anyone yet, so I denied him.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “A man? What man?”
“He didn’t give his name, sir. He just said he was the child’s grandfather.”
The world stopped, and I couldn’t breathe.
“She doesn’t have a grandfather.” I barely choked the words out as my hand tore open the envelope.
The card was pink with dancing bears in ballerina tutus, welcoming Iris to the world. The inscription inside was harshly scribbled—slanted and angry.
Just like a serial killer’s handwriting should look.
Welcome to the world, Little Princess.
Can’t wait to see you soon.
Grandpa
Chapter Thirty-One
Phoebe
“Son of a bitch!”
“What?” Julian took his eyes off the busy freeway.
Scrolling through my texts, I tapped a photo to enlarge it and shoved it in his face. “Faith just sent me a text. Bystander just hit the newsstands today. Care to guess what’s on the front page?”
His eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’ll kill those nurses.”
He drove with one hand and took my phone with the other. His jaw tightened. I didn’t have to look at it. I knew what it looked like. The shitty tabloid printed a close-up of Iris being held by a NICU nurse. The caption read,
Lords of Lyre front man’s newborn in life or death fight for heart transplant.
The blatant lie didn’t get to me as much as the invasion of privacy. I chose to be with Julian. But Iris had no choice but to live in the glare of paparazzi cameras. I’d be damned if she’d be exploited.
“The nurses are screened, Phoebe. Don’t blame them.”
“Fine.” I snatched my phone out of his hands. “Then tell Kristina to go to hell. She’s the only non-family you allowed in the damn NICU.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’re having this discussion again?”
I squeezed the orange NICU wristband, something that had become somewhat of a habit. “Someone did it, Julian. Why not her? Why does Kristina know everything you do and I get scraps?”
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “She’s my manager, Phoebe. I see her every day.”
“You see me too.”
“If you’re still pissed Kristina knew about the flight changes, say it and stop fucking dancing around it.” Irritated, he slammed his hand across the CD changer and the screech of metal music blasted the car. Used to his mood swings, I turned down the volume and placed my hands in my lap.
I’d been home a week and we’d spent most of our time in the SUV navigating freeway traffic or sitting with Iris in the NICU. The stress had gotten to us, and it seemed that we took each other’s heads off more than we leaned on each other.
“I’m not pissed about Kristina,” I said calmly. “I’m hurt you’re hiding things, again. What happened to the teamwork we promised each other?”
He never answered. He just tightened his hold on my hand as my mind went into overdrive.
Something about that picture didn’t sit well with me. I got a sick feeling when I looked at it. Something seemed too familiar, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
***
