Christian followed behind, feeling nostalgic at being back in his old apartment building. He sort of expected everything to be the same. He'd get out of the elevator, drop off a box of scones at Steven's apartment, field an unwanted invitation to pose nude for Agnes and then go study psychopathology or the evolution of thought.
What he needed to learn was how to change a diaper, and quick. Steven would probably turn right around if he saw him coming and Agnes would never want to draw him like this, with a huge belly and swollen ankles.
Derrick motioned for Christian to stay back when he opened the door to Christian's apartment. Instantly, he shifted into a massive wolf. Derrick kicked his back leg and slammed the door, keeping Christian outside in the hall.
If Christian hadn't of known that Derrick's shifting meant danger, then he would have pounded on the door. Instead, he waited, on edge, listening for signs of a fight inside. It must've been a minute later when Derrick opened the door, pulling on some old clothes of Christian's that were entirely too small for him.
"I don't want you coming in here," Derrick said.
"Why?" Now that there didn't seem to be any danger, Christian was curious. He stood up on his tiptoes, trying to see past him. "It's my apartment. I have a right to see it."
Derrick rolled his eyes and looked at Christian almost like he used to, with annoyed indulgence. "Fine, but I warned you."
Christian stepped in slowly. He didn't speak, but continued forward, taking in what was left of his apartment. If he had needed a final nail in the coffin of the way things were, this was it, hammered all the way in.
The apartment was trashed. Thoroughly. There didn't look to be a piece of furniture left upright, a dish that hadn't been torn from the cupboard and broken.
Someone, or many someones, had had a great time destroying the little Christian had left. It looked as though Lucian and his pack had gotten to his apartment. Christian had thought leaving his father's name connected to his apartment would somehow make it safe. Maybe it was his father who had done this. But why?
"I don't know," Derrick said, letting Christian know he'd spoken out loud. "But I will figure it out." He growled deep in his chest. Christian believed him. He also felt sorry for whoever had done it because they weren't going to get out of it unscathed.
Christian bent down, picking up what had been his favorite mug he'd made in ceramics class, now in two pieces. He set the pieces together and when he did he felt a baby's kick in his belly. He jumped, and the mug pieces fell to the floor.
Derrick was by his side in a flash. "What? What is it?" His hands stretched out towards Christian's belly and then stopped.
It shouldn't hurt that Derrick was only worried about the babies Christian carried and not him, but it did. Christian swallowed that sadness. From Derrick's perspective, Christian had robbed him of the memories of watching his children grow from conception. He shouldn't let his pettiness take any more memories from Derrick.
"You can touch my belly," he offered. "They're kicking."
So many emotions flitted behind Derrick's eyes, among them wonder and awe, but also anger. He settled on an expression that was this side of shuttered. Still, he lifted his hand and pressed it against Christian's swollen abdomen. "Just wait," Christian murmured.
He knew that Derrick had felt the kick the moment it happened because Derrick's shuttered expression broke open into one so joyful it almost hurt to look at. Their eyes locked for a second. Christian wanted to smile, to lean forward and kiss. But the moment passed, and Derrick dropped his hand, clearing his throat.
"Good kick on that one. I've always been a great kicker, makes sense."
Christian bent down, picking the ceramic bits of mug up again. "There should be a garbage bag in that drawer over there unless they ruined those too. If you could hand me one," Christian said, gathering all the littered remains of his old life.
"You can't be serious. You aren't cleaning this up," Derrick snapped.
"I can, and I am. This is my apartment, who else will clean it up? I could want to stay here again."
"I'll hire someone," Derrick said dryly.
Christian shook his head. "No. Enough people have been through my apartment. That's the reason for this mess." He went into the kitchen to the drawer he'd directed Derrick to and grabbed a bag. He looked at the apartment and grabbed the box too.
A while later, Christian was in his bedroom, stripping the torn linens off of his bed. Derrick was in the living room alternating between cleaning and talking on his phone, relaying calls and getting information about who might have torn Christian's apartment apart. Christian retrieved a clean set of sheets and turned to make his bed, thankful that whoever had done this hadn't sliced open his mattress. He bent back over and his vision blurred. He buckled forward but was caught by an angry Derrick.
"I told you not to push yourself. I shouldn't have let you work for as long as you did."
Christian brushed the sweat off of his brow and batted Derrick away feebly. "I'm fine. They're fine. I just need to lie down for a bit." He sat on the foot of the bed.
"I'll take you home before I go," Derrick said.
"Go where?" He'd expected Derrick to stay with him at least for dinner. That had been their routine.
"I just got a call. One of my scouts thinks he might have been filming the complex when this happened. I'm meeting with him to look at the video."
"Oh, that's lucky. Will it take you long?"
"Shouldn't."
Christian sat down on the bed and starting scooting towards the head. "Then I'll just nap here. You can come back after."
"I don't like that idea."
"Surprise," Christian said sarcastically.
It looked like Derrick was trying not to smile. His face softened into something more tender. "I just want to keep you safe. Keep them safe," he said, freely rubbing Christian's stomach.
"We'll be safe. I'll take a nap and then maybe clean a bit more." He spoke louder when he saw Derrick's objection already forming. "And if I run into any trouble, I still know where Steven and Agnes live. Or I can call you."
Either Christian had convinced him with his words, or Derrick had noticed how he was already half asleep, but he nodded and turned away.
Chapter 21
Christian opened his eyes feeling refreshed but alert. What had woken him? He scooted to the edge of the bed and rolled to a sitting position. It was still light outside, so he hadn't been asleep for very long, which was odd. These days, Christian could nap like he used to be able to run. Often and for hours.
He shuffled out of the bedroom and froze. Sitting on his couch was a figure. The man turned, and Christian had to place him before recognizing him.
Dante.
The last time he'd seen that face it had been trying to come on to him. And then he'd gotten a little handsy when Christian had rejected him. And then he'd gotten thrown out of the pack by an enraged Derrick. A thread of fear pierced his spine. Dante wasn't here by accident.
"Hey there, sleepy head," Dante said, getting to his feet and standing between Christian and the door. He looked at Christian's belly, and Christian turned slightly, wanting to shield his unborn children from the man's gaze. "You got yourself in a way, didn't you?"
"What are you doing here?"
"You know, not everyone was happy when I got thrown out. Just like not everyone was happy with how your mate handled the packs. Some of us liked things the way they were."
"Yeah, well, change is hard," Christian said, stepping back slowly.
In a flash, Dante picked up a bag of trash that Christian had filled hours before and hurled it through the air. It hit the wall right beside Christian's head and exploded on impact. Christian turned his tummy away and covered his ears. "Don't get saucy," Dante said.
"Derrick is going to be back any minute. You should just go." Christian worked hard to keep his voice straight.
"No, he won't. Some of his scouts are sympathizers. They're on board with my
plans of bringing the pack back to its former glory."
"You lured him out."
Dante nodded. "Yep. You're a smart one. I'm actually real sorry it came to this."
Dante sounded so genuine Christian almost believed him.
"Taking over the pack was on my plate before you came into the picture. I thought your presence would work in my favor, that you'd distract him, offer me more ways to break my nephew. God knows I put enough worms in enough ears." Dante slid a large knife out of its sheath. It gleamed, dangerously, looking brand new. "I only ever wanted my nephew gone, out of the picture so I could challenge my brother without worrying about having to challenge his son as well."
"Because Derrick would kick your ass," Christian said, unable to help himself.
Dante just shrugged. "But Derrick wouldn't leave. So, I tried to work it so that you left, knowing that once you'd gone, he would follow you. For fulfilling your role in that, I thank you. But, you did too good of a job, and Derrick couldn't find you until now."
Christian swayed back, looking around for something that he could use to defend himself.
You just cleaned it all up, you idiot!
"But it's too late now. Now I don't need Derrick gone. I need him broken." Dante took a predatory step forward. "I'll try not to get you, Christian," he said.
It took Christian a second to figure out what Dante meant.
"Killing his pups will kill him. I'll try just to maim you if you cooperate."
"You won't walk away from that," Christian said with one hundred percent certainty.
Dante paced in front of the door, for the first time, seeming agitated. "I fucking tried to do this without hurting you. I convinced Mémé to give you that money, showed that Babineaux bimbo where you were staying and how to get in, even orchestrated little fake coup at one of the fisheries to put extra stress on the situation. I didn't want to hurt you," Dante said with fake sincerity. Christian saw the clear, murderous intent shining behind that supposed kindness. "I liked you, actually," he said.
"Everyone does," Christian said before turning leaping into the bedroom and slamming the door closed. He clicked the lock but knew it wouldn't keep a shifter out for long. Thinking twice about it, Christian pushed his dresser over into the space between the door and his bed. He hoped that would give him the time he needed as he ran to the window. The fire escape platform was just outside, but Christian was nearly the size of the window opening, and he had to be careful getting his body through.
The platform creaked underneath him. He stepped on the narrow, grated stairs. If he still had his pre-pregnancy body, he could have been down to the bottom in no time. Now, he had to be careful with each step. If he fell, his children fell with him.
But, he was being chased by a crazy person, so he tried to hurry. He heard his door splinter open when he had one more flight of stairs left. Christian put his head down and hurried, rejoicing when he felt the solid cement below his feet. He was almost out, almost free, he'd run out of the alley, and someone would be there.
Dante must have leaped from nearly three floors above, landing with a thud, he rolled and stopped in a crouch.
Fucking shifters.
Once again, Dante separated Christian from the one exit, this time, into the populated street. The irony of his predicament wasn't lost through his fear. Once again, Christian was in an alley, in danger from a shifter.
"We need to hurry this up," Dante said, not even breathing hard.
Dante lunged forward, knife at his side, lined up and ready to plunge into Christian's stomach. Christian never had a different choice. If Dante had known him, he would've expected the movement. But he didn't, so when Christian turned around at the last moment, ensuring the knife slid into his back, protecting his belly, Dante gave a surprised yelp. Christian fell to his knees. He felt like his world had slowed down so that he was operating in slow motion.
Christian looked up. Maybe his soul had sensed him. Or, maybe his psyche had conjured the image up, but Derrick stood in front of him, still wearing Christian's too tight clothes. His eyes were wide with fear as they took in Christian's state. Christian lurched forward, unable to stay upright and fell on his side on the alley floor.
Derrick shifted and leaped over him. Christian could only hear Derrick's murderous growl, his uncle's screams. Those screams were silenced, dwindling down to a weak gurgle before disappearing entirely. Dante hadn't even had the chance to shift and defend himself.
Christian could feel the knife low on his back. His vision blurred, and he felt ice cold.
"Oh God, Christian, no," Derrick wailed, coming back into Christian's line of sight. Derrick pulled out his cell phone. His lips were moving.
"Derrick, don't worry," Christian tried to say, but his tongue felt too thick. "Don't worry. The babies are safe. Our babies are safe," he said before the blackness overtook him.
Chapter 22
Derrick paced the hallway of the free clinic Felix worked in. He'd been told this wasn't the doctor's first emergency surgery, not even his first emergency c-section. Every single moment Derrick had waited for Felix to get to Christian's apartment, for them to transfer him to the clinic, all while Derrick listened to his mate's breathing grow shallow and short, had been a living hell. Torture by the minute. Derrick growled at the hospital hallway wall. He'd failed his mate. He'd allowed him to get hurt. That was inexcusable. Derrick had realized a trap had been set the moment he tried calling the scout who had claimed to have video of Christian's apartment breaking back. He'd been jittery and short with him on the phone, putting Derrick's senses on high alert. Feeling something wasn't right, he'd gone back to check on Christian. Derrick's heart squeezed at that memory.
Felix had come out of the surgical room once, explaining they were out of the worst of it, that Christian would live. He'd removed the knife and had stitched the injury, going as far as saying that the knife wound had missed all major organs. Derrick thought about how now he and his mate had both been stabbed in an alley.
Now, Felix was beginning the preparations for the c-section, but that didn't assuage Derrick's wolf, or him.
Luke sat in the hallway with him, watching him pace. "Felix is the best. He used to do doctor work in low-income, underdeveloped countries. He's done more in worse conditions."
"Did that make you feel better when it was Finn being operated on?"
Luke smiled, it looked painful. "No, I almost killed him."
"Then you'll understand." It was always weird, putting two alpha personalities in the same room. Derrick found he was mildly irritated by Luke but on the whole, he could stand him. He didn't understand the other alpha's practices, or why he'd left Lucian's pack to find their own leader after killing him. But then, Derrick had basically dissolved his own pack system and had made himself CEO of a major company instead of alpha of a pack. So maybe his practices were a little unorthodox as well. Derrick thought with a short burst of pride about Robineaux Inc. and just how smoothly it had gone. Or so it had seemed. The mutiny today was proof that everything hadn't gone as well as he'd thought. There was work still to do, and Derrick would do it gladly, with his mate by his side. Nothing Derrick did would stop the prince of the bayou wisecracks, except now, he would be king.
None of that mattered, though, unless Christian was with him. He'd been so horrible to him, so cold. In his pain, he'd gone blind to the one thing about Christian that was most important: he was selfless. Christian hadn't thought twice when he'd turned his body away from the blade, protecting his stomach, their children and putting himself in more danger.
Dante. Even if Christian healed completely and there were no lasting side effects, Derrick would never be able to forgive himself for his family member's betrayal. Derrick had known that Dante was unhappy, especially after he'd been kicked out of the pack. But Derrick had seen his uncle as weak, had expected him to sit in a corner with his tail between his legs until someone offered him a scrap. Derrick had been ready to make him the manager at on
e of the fisheries, letting him work his way back up. He'd never expected, would have never guessed that his family would have turned on him.
Derrick sat down and immediately stood back up, too many nerves ping-ponging around his body. He'd been a dick to Christian the moment he'd seen him laying in that bed. He needed a chance to make it up.
He couldn't stop himself from bursting through the door, staying back only because he remembered germs were a thing. He was in the in-between room, not in the hallway but not in the operating room. Felix was in the operating room with another human male and two females. Felix looked up and saw him, he asked the other male something and then there was a static sound as an intercom sounded.
"Wash up," Felix said, resigned over the intercom speaker. "I'm impressed with how long you lasted. Longer than that guy," Felix said, indicating the direction where Luke still waited in the hallway.
Derrick's petty nature took pride in beating the other alpha in something. He washed quickly, put on gloves, a mask, and a hair cap. The door whooshed open, and he went to Christian's side. But Christian's eyes were closed.
"I thought you said he was fine."
"I said he'd make it. He's coming out of the anesthesia administered for his first surgery, but we couldn't wait to begin the c-section. I'm not worried. He'll come to any minute. Talk to him. He can hear you."
Derrick knelt down so he could talk in Christian's ear. He reached for his hand and held it. "Do you hear that, baby? You're going to be fine. You should be so proud of yourself. I know I am. You were right about everything and you kept them safe when I couldn't. Now, I'm going to keep you safe. Just wake up."
Christian's eyelids fluttered.
"Please wake up so you can forgive me."
Christian smiled, and Derrick's heart sang. "I'm awake and… having children?" He tried to raise himself up on his elbows.
"Hold on there," Felix said. "I've got you numbed up, but I still don't want you peeking."
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