The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  His last words to me.

  Own it.

  The elevator doors opened and I followed the doctor down a hall to another room, he nodded at the lady behind the counter and pushed open another set of doors, leading me into a sterile room. I saw him immediately, laying on a gurney centered in the room, with a sheet covering him up to his chin.

  I’ve seen death a thousand times, always in the eyes of an enemy. I’ve never lost anyone close to me, and now here I stood in the morgue, staring at my dead best friend wondering if the girl I loved and my kid would be the next two bodies I saw in this room.

  “We’ll give you a moment,” the doctor said, before walking out of the room, leaving me alone with Bones’ body.

  I stepped closer to him, my boots pounding across the linoleum, muffling the groan that left my throat as I stared down at his face, pale, and lifeless. His lips already gray, matching the skin unmarked by tattoos.

  This was the last time I’d see him, the last chance I had to look at him and speak, from this point forward I’d talk to a headstone, and even knowing that, my words still got lost on my tongue.

  I knew what I felt and what I should say, yet I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stand there and say goodbye. I couldn’t thank him for being a brother to me, not the kind that wore matching cuts, but the type of brother that guided me through life. Jack preaches about heart and that it keeps you from being reckless but most of my life it was Bones who kept me from being reckless. I didn’t need heart when I had a friend that could always reign me in, guide me away from the peril and put my ass on the right path.

  He’s been my voice of reason, the one pulling me back from the edge for years. Sure, I could stand here and tell him how lost I would be now without him but he’d given me so much throughout the years it was time to give him one final thing in return. One piece of truth his soul could take with him on his journey.

  I laid my hand over his chest, feeling the cold beneath the sheet against my warm hand.

  Life and Death.

  Such a fucked up thing.

  “I promise you I’m going to own my responsibilities. I’ll be the father you always wanted for yourself and the one you wanted to be some day. It’s only fair since you lost your life, I will do everything in my power to do something the both of us wanted. I may not have known it right away, because you were always quicker to learn what you wanted out of life than I was, but usually we shared the same goals. I’ll be the father both of us never had and every day I look at my kid, God willing, I’ll think of you and the ultimate sacrifice you made for me,” I said hoarsely, hoping God didn’t make me out to be a liar.

  Please let Pea survive.

  “My kid will always know who you are. Always,” I vowed as my voice caught in my throat. “And any good I get to teach him is because I’ve learned it from you. Got one more promise for you, and it’s big so, listen up…” I said, drawing in a shaky breath as I leaned over his body. “I’m going to make the motherfucker who did this pay. I promise you. I fucking promise you with everything I am, I will get him. I will be his judge and his jury and I will make him pay for every sin he’s committed, starting with your death.”

  I straightened up, patted his chest one final time before shoving both hands into my pockets and taking a step back.

  I’ll never forget this moment.

  I’ll put men in the ground remembering this exact moment.

  I turned around to walk away and leave him to rest but something nagged inside of me. I didn’t want to ask anything of him. He’s given me so much and still I turned around to ask him one last favor, because I’m a greedy fuck. A terrified, greedy fuck.

  “If they don’t make it, please take care of them,” I whispered to my friend. Turning once more, I made my way out of the morgue; glancing over my shoulder to catch one last glimpse of the man I was always proud to call my brother.

  “Love you, my brother. See you soon,” I rasped, before closing the door behind me and coming face to face with the doctor again.

  “These are his belongings,” he said, handing me a clear bag. I opened it and pulled out his leather cut stained with his blood. I fisted my hand around the leather and glanced at the rest of the stuff in the bag before handing it back to the doctor.

  I walked to the bank of elevators clutching Bones’ cut, stepping inside the first one that opened and when the doors closed I drove my fist into one of the walls, my scream echoing off the walls of the elevator.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I turned the corner, lifting my head to see Jack and the rest of the club flocked by police officers, namely officer Brantley. As I made my way further into the waiting room I could hear Jack and the cop arguing. I’m sure the cop was having a chubby over the massacre that took place in the parking lot of the compound.

  “Now isn’t the time to gloat Brantley. We’re one man down and waiting on word on an innocent woman and her child, so instead of you busting my balls and picking apart my club, why don’t you go find who the fuck is responsible for the bloodshed?” Jack growled.

  “You’re partially responsible for this bloodshed and you know it Parrish,” Brantley countered. “The Satan’s Knights have been taking the lives of innocent women for years. It doesn’t matter if that girl in there lives or dies. She’s better off dead,” he seethed.

  I charged at him but I was too slow as Anthony got to him first, slamming the cop in uniform up against the glass window of the hospital.

  “Anthony!” Adrianna shrieked.

  “That’s my sister in there you pig,” Anthony seethed, slamming his body against the glass.

  “You’re assaulting an officer,” Brantley warned.

  “Then fucking lock me up, douchebag,” Anthony gritted, releasing his hold on Brantley.

  “Excuse me?” a doctor said, speaking over the commotion. “Are you the family of Lauren Bianci?”

  I turned on my heel and looked at the doctor, watching as she removed her paper mask and glanced around at us until her eyes focused on mine. She glanced down at my clothes before lifting her eyes back to mine.

  I’ll never forget the worn and drained eyes that stared back at me sympathetically. And I’m even more sure I wouldn’t forget the words she was about to deliver.

  “I’m her mother,” Maria declared. “Please, is she okay?”

  The doctor turned her attention to Maria.

  “She’s still in surgery. I’m the resident OBGYN and this, is Dr. Meadows, the head of Pediatrics,” she explained, motioning to the doctor standing off to the left of her, a man I hadn’t even noticed was there.

  “Pea,” I whispered, looking back and forth between the two doctors who were about to tell me if mine and Lauren’s baby had survived. It was that moment I became a father first and foremost, when I understood what it was to be a parent. I was terrified that they were going to tell me that Pea didn’t survive. The old me would’ve walked away just like I always did when something threatened to hurt me and not in the physical sense. Physical pain I could live with. The pain that slices through your heart? That shit was different, and as tough as I claim to be, as brutal of human I am, I usually run scared when it comes to the heart.

  But I’m someone’s father now and that someone comes before my fear. That someone is my heart. The reason I have one, the reason it beats.

  “I’m the father,” I said, walking up to them.

  “As you know the baby was under distress and before they could operate on Ms. Bianci we needed to perform an emergency cesarean to deliver the baby,” she paused for a moment.

  “Ms. Bianci successfully delivered a baby boy, weighing three pounds, one ounce and I believe fifteen inches in length. I closed and the surgeons took over. I don’t have an update on her status but while I was performing the C-section she was stable and I delivered the baby in under two minutes,” she explained.

  “A boy,” I said. “I have a son.”

  He was born weighing three pounds, one ounce but h
is birth caused my heart to weigh a ton. Who knew such a revelation could make my heart feel so full? Not me. Not me at all.

  “Is he okay?”

  Dr. Meadows stepped up.

  “I took over for your son once he was delivered and immediately began working on him. His lungs aren’t fully developed so we needed to place him on a ventilator. He is in the NICU right now, stabilized with the machine breathing for him. We also inserted a feeding tube in him and are carefully monitoring him.”

  “But he’s okay? I mean, he’s little and all but he’s going to make it, right Doc?” I asked, unable to recognize my own voice.

  “Mr. Bianci is it?”

  “No, Montgomery.”

  “Mr. Montgomery, your son was born twelve weeks early, aside from Respiratory Distress Syndrome, your son is still very much considered to be in critical condition. We are working to determine if there is an intraventricular hemorrhage, which is a brain bleed. If there is we need to monitor it very closely but they usually dissolve on their own accord. However, there may be lasting side effects that we won’t be able to determine right away.”

  “Such as?” I asked, turning to Maria. “Please, listen in case I forget anything,” I pleaded.

  She nodded, tears falling down her cheeks as she listened along with me as the doctor explained Pea’s condition and the illnesses he may face.

  Cerebral Palsy.

  Mental Retardation.

  And that was just if he had a brain bleed.

  I think.

  All I knew was he spoke of things no parent wants to hear.

  “Can I see him?” I asked, interrupting him as he went down the list of possible occurrences. Pea wasn’t going to get any of those things. I was sure of it. He was half Lauren and half me. He was his mother’s son and he was a fighter. He’d get through it.

  Dr. Meadow’s eyes assessed me before he sighed.

  “I’m going to get a nurse to give you some scrubs and get you out of these clothes. The NICU is a very sterile environment. You’ll need to scrub down and then of course you may see your son,” he said, turning toward Maria and Anthony. “The rest of you may see him from the window but at this time we’re only going to allow the father inside the unit.”

  Maria nodded, turning to me.

  “You tell that little boy he has a lot of people who love him and can’t wait to meet him. You tell him his mommy is the number one person on that list, okay?”

  I nodded, pushing down the lump in my throat as I stared at her. I get it now…what family is. It’s the people you laugh with, the people you cry with, the people who stand by your side through the good times and bad. You fight and make up, or maybe you don’t, maybe you go months, sometimes years without speaking but then something happens and it erases all that negative shit that kept you from being family. One circumstance is all it takes to bring a family together. If you’re lucky it’s a birth or a wedding, some warm, fuzzy shit that everyone wants a piece of. Other times, times like now, it’s when everything falls apart and things are so far out of control, they’re so fucked you can’t help but turn to one another for support. It’s times like these when families become stronger.

  “We’ll go get you some clothes,” Pipe spoke up. “Anything else you need?”

  I reached into my pocket and threw Pipe my keys.

  “There’s a bag on my kitchen counter can you bring that too?”

  “Aye, of course,” he agreed.

  I thanked him, tipped my chin to the rest of them and squeezed Maria’s hand reassuringly before following the doctor through the doors and into the elevator. I was taken to the eighth floor and a nurse handed me a pair of scrubs, pointing to a vacant room and instructed me to change my clothes. I pulled the shirt over my head, laying it flat on the chair and stared at the dried up blood, a nasty mix of red and brown painted the once plain white t-shirt.

  Lauren’s face flashed before my eyes.

  Choose Pea.

  Our son.

  I twisted the shirt in my hands and shoved it into the waste basket before I continued to peel the clothes from my body. I changed into the scrubs and met the nurse outside the door. She took me into another room and I started to feel anxious as she handed me a bar of soap and instructed me to wash my hands and forearms. I vigorously scrubbed my skin, watching as the water in the sink mixed with the blood on my hands and swirled down the drain.

  Once my hands were sterilized I followed her into the NICU, my heart beat rampantly inside my chest as my eyes scanned the room, looking at all incubators and wondering which one held my son until the nurse came to a stop and turned around to face me.

  “Are you ready to meet your son?” she smiled warmly, as she stepped to the side. “He’s been waiting to meet his daddy,” she continued.

  My eyes dropped and rested on the little miracle fighting for his life. I heard the gasp escape my lips as I took a step closer, cocking my head to the side as I stared at the tiniest human I had ever laid eyes on. He looked so frail, so fragile hooked up to all the machines. Aside from the respirator and the feeding tube, his skin was decorated with tiny little stickers that connected more wires to him.

  But I saw past the wires and ignored the sounds of the machines, focusing on the beautiful little boy that was half Lauren and half me.

  “You can’t hold him just yet but you can stick your hands through the holes and touch him,” the nurse stated. “It would be good for him to feel you,” she encouraged.

  “Can he hear me?” I asked hoarsely, running my hand over the top of the incubator.

  “Of course he can,” she smiled. “He already probably recognizes your voice from in utero.

  His eyes were closed and because of the feeding tube and the ventilator I couldn’t assess his features, but still, I knew he had the most adorable face.

  After all, I was his dad.

  And his mom? She was pretty hot too.

  I lifted my hands from the incubator, hesitating as I brought them to the circular holes for my arms to slide through.

  “You sure I won’t hurt him? I can’t like pull a wire or anything like that, right?”

  “I’m sure,” she said calmly.

  I drew in a sharp breath, turning my gaze back to my son, thinking how strange it was that it felt perfectly normal to be calling this little guy my son. That wasn’t something I expected to feel. I thought it would feel strange at first, constricted and forced but one look at him and it was the most natural feeling I had ever had.

  I was always a sure shot, a steady hand and a perfect eye. My hand never once quivered when it was wrapped around a gun but my hands trembled as they slid into the incubator and my fingertips touched my son’s skin for the first time.

  “Oh,” I whispered. “You’re really here,” I said, softly caressing the top of his hand with my index finger.

  He’s so tiny, making my hands look so much bigger than they really are.

  “Hey, little guy, I’m your dad,” I introduced myself, crouching down so he could hear me better and I could see him more clearly. “It’s okay, Daddy’s here, you don’t have to be scared. I know it’s a big deal, coming into the world and all that. It’s terrifying to go from being safe inside your mom to the ugly world that ripped you from her but I promise you, you don’t have to be afraid anymore,” I vowed, drawing circles on his tiny hand with my fingertip.

  “You know I’m already the proudest dad in this place. Just look at you being such a strong boy, fighting hard like a little bull—you get that from your mom. She’s a fighter and right now she’s fighting with everything she’s got because she wants so badly to meet you, to hold you and to kiss you. She’s loved you since she first found out you were just a little pea inside of her,” I whispered, feeling the sting of unshed tears assault my eyes.

  I blinked, tears escaping the corners of my eyes but I didn’t take my hands out of the incubator to dry my eyes. I wanted to touch him for as long as I could, to comfort him. I wonder if he reali
zes I’m here. Does he recognize my voice? Probably not.

  “Do you have a name picked out for him?”

  I turned my gaze to the nurse and shook my head.

  “No, but I bet his mom does,” I said, turning back to glance at my boy. “I’m sure it’s a good, solid name, perfect for you.”

  I pictured Kitten holding our son for the first time, looking up at me and telling me what the name she chose for him was but then another thought invaded my mind.

  What if she doesn’t make it?

  What if she doesn’t get to meet our son?

  What if he doesn’t get to know what a great mom he has?

  What if she never gets to tell us what his name is?

  I felt myself teetering on the edge, ready to lose it and succumb to the grief of it all. The grief of losing Bones, of not knowing if Lauren will live or die and standing here watching as a machine breathes for my newborn child.

  And then the most amazing thing happened.

  A tiny hand wrapped around my finger.

  I stared at my son’s hand, his small fingers wrapped around my index finger and I was undone.

  I thought I had the perfect life, that I had everything I wanted and wasn’t missing anything. But it wasn’t until that moment, when my son held onto me that, I realized I didn’t know the meaning of life…until him. Kitten and Tiger may have given this boy life, but he gave me a reason to live mine.

  Heart.

  It was right there, three pounds one ounce of the purest love I’d ever know.

  Thank you.

  “Oh, kid, you’re already wrapped around my finger, but thank you,” I whispered. “I love you, Pea,” I whispered.

  A knock on the glass window startled me, pulling me away from the most precious gift I had ever received and when I glanced over my shoulder my eyes met Anthony’s. His eyes dropped to the incubator before they closed briefly then finally lifted back to mine.