Beyond Revenge (The Ransom Series)

by A. T. Douglas

  “You’re almost there. It’ll be time to push soon.”

  Morgan gives a strained nod. She’s in the middle of another contraction.

  “Is there anything you can give her?” I ask desperately.

  “No! I can do this,” Morgan exclaims before Jack can even address my question. She’s back down from the pain, but she’s wearing out. I can see the exhaustion in her face and in the sweat beading on her forehead.

  “What can I do, Jack?” I plead with him.

  “You’re already doing it.” He nods down to my hand entwined with Morgan’s.

  The next thirty minutes are excruciating. Morgan’s cries fill the room and echo throughout the house. Her cheeks are stained with tears. Her hair is wild and soaked with sweat. She can hardly talk through the pain anymore, and I just sit by her side, completely helpless. My own thoughts consume me, knowing that I caused this, that I put her in this pain. I’ve heard her screams and cries before, but those hardly compare to this. She’s going through some horrible form of Mother Nature’s torture, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.

  By the time Jack says she’s ready to push, I feel completely numb. When he tells me and Cindy to hold her legs, my hands somehow manage to comply. We try to say encouraging words as she pushes during the contractions, but Morgan isn’t listening. She’s in her own world, pressing beyond the pain, nothing but determination and fortitude beneath the grimaces she makes. She has us all here, but she’s completely alone in this, bearing all this pain on her own.

  I watch with amazement as she begins to overcome it. I can see it in her eyes, the moment when all the grief and frustration and difficulty she has endured come together as one force with one purpose. She seems to filter all her being into these final pushes.

  When I hear Morgan’s victorious maternal cry, I know she’s done it even before I see the baby emerge and the blood spill out of her. My heart is instantly in my throat and my breath is stolen from my lungs the moment I see our child, completely messy and covered in blood but also the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The baby’s cries fill the room amidst the sounds of Morgan weeping, her tears of joy and relief coating her reddened but smiling cheeks.

  “You have a son,” Jack says as he wraps the crying baby in a blanket.

  A son.

  We have a son.

  I don’t even notice that I’m crying or unresponsive until Jack nudges me with his shoulder. “You get to do the honors.” He nods at some supplies on the small table. “Attach the plastic clamp to the umbilical cord just above his belly button and attach the surgical clamp a little further down, then you get to cut in between.”

  My hands shake as my body responds to fulfill Jack’s requests. With one final snip, my son is completely separated from his mother’s body.

  I step back as Jack walks the baby around the bed, leaning down to carefully deposit him in Morgan’s arms. She smiles brightly through her tears looking down at the tiny bundle in her embrace, and then she looks at me. Our eyes connect, and in that instant I know she’s telling me we’re okay, that despite everything we’ve been through and all we have yet to endure, it’s all completely worth it. In that one look she takes away all my worry and pain. All the guilt and anger is gone. The outlook for us is brilliant and full of love and family and all the things that life should be.

  “Come meet your son,” she says quietly, and my life suddenly feels complete.

  23

  His Perfection

  ∞

  This tiny creature

  borne of love and commitment,

  forever life-changing and mind-altering.

  A blessing.

  A miracle.

  Everything I never knew I wanted.

  The missing piece,

  my utter perfection,

  the fuel to send me forward.

  He is everything to me.

  Just like his father.

  ∞

  Ten tiny fingers. Ten tiny toes.

  I keep counting them, and the number stays the same.

  I keep running the back of my hand over the soft fuzz of dark hair on his head, and when I’m done, he’s still in my arms. He’s actually real.

  Perfection. This child is absolute perfection.

  Warmth fills my heart every time I look at him. I’m overwhelmed with the love I have for my son and for his father. Leo and I created life together. We started a family. We just took the first step toward the rest of our lives, our new beginning, and it’s going to be wonderful.

  I’ve never seen Leo so completely happy. When he held his son for the first time, I saw the pride beaming on his face. He thought he was forever trapped in darkness, but this child has brought out the light in him even more than I’ve ever been able to. He never thought he’d have this, but now it’s his. This is our life and family to share together.

  It’s true perfection.

  The room is quiet as we all watch this little boy sleep in my arms. I know Jack needs to take him–he’s asked twice already–but I’m not ready to let go of him just yet.

  “So, he’ll need a name,” Mom prods, and I can’t help smiling at her impatience.

  I turn to Leo sitting on the bed next to me. He nods. We’re in silent agreement.

  “Dante Leonardo Marini, after Leo’s father.”

  Mom’s hands fly to her mouth. She looks about ready to cry again. Dad gives an approving nod and smile.

  Jack stops what he’s doing and looks at Leo thoughtfully. “Your father was a good man. Your son will bear his name well.”

  With Dante cradled carefully in my arm, I reach beside me with my other arm and grasp Leo’s hand. I know this whole experience has been emotional for him. I can see on his face that actually hearing the words out loud that his father’s memory will live on in the name of our son is affecting him more than he wants it to, but I also know he’s thrilled about it. When I suggested the name weeks ago, he was hesitant at first then completely fell in love with the idea.

  Leo leans toward me, tipping his head to mine as he runs his fingers gently over Dante’s cheek. “I wish he could be here to meet the newest member of the Marini family.” I can hear the hint of pain in his voice, and I automatically squeeze his hand a little tighter.

  We’re all quiet a moment before Jack breaks the silence. “I don’t want to interrupt, but I should get little Dante cleaned up and checked out. Would the grandparents like to give me a hand?”

  I nod reluctantly before kissing Dante on the forehead and carefully handing him off to Jack. I watch him take my baby out of the room to the nursery, my parents following closely behind him.

  Leo and I have the room to ourselves, our one little moment of privacy together since the chaos of the final stages of childbirth began, and I want to take advantage of it. I want to show Leo just how much he is loved and cared for. I want him to know that he has all of me and that I’m always going to be here for him. I want him to embrace this new life we have and forget about the past.

  When I turn to Leo, my hand is instantly on his cheek, transferring my warmth to his skin and feeling every bit of him while my fingers work into his dark hair. I contemplate his lips briefly before actually placing mine on them. The kiss starts out shy and hesitant, reminiscent of how I was around Leo when we first met back at the prison. The kiss progresses and deepens with the speed and power of the passion we shared the first time we kissed, driven by lust and the needs and desires of our bodies. The kiss then slows down as I learn his lips all over again, giving care and love to each part of them, truly feeling him and tasting him as I remember the part of our journey when we got to know each other better, when lust gave way to actual love.

  I pull away from him, gasping for breath. Our foreheads touch and we remain there, coming down from the height of the moment.

  “I love you,” I whisper. I steal one last kiss from his lips.

  “I love you, Morgan.” He nuzzles against me even more. “I’m so proud
of you. You did amazing.”

  “We did amazing. He’s perfect.”

  Leo pulls back as his face falters slightly. He tries to divert his gaze, but my hand immediately encourages it back to me. “Don’t do that, Leo. Don’t even think it. He’s your son.”

  His eyes are filled with concern and doubt. “What if he isn’t?”

  I harden my expression with all the resolve I feel inside to support what I’m about to say. “He’s yours. I’ve never been more confident about anything in my life.”

  He’s quiet for a long moment. I know he wants to believe me, but I don’t seem to be getting through to him.

  “We’ll do a paternity test,” I offer, “but I want you to know that regardless of the result, you’re always going to be Dante’s father. There is no question in my mind about that.”

  He smiles at me, some of the tension working its way out of his face as he nods. “I’ll always be his father. I’ll never let him go.”

  My expression relaxes into a teasing grin. “Good. I’m never letting you go, either.”

  He lets out a hint of a laugh and shakes his head at me before pulling me into a hug. He starts to embrace me tighter and then freezes and pulls away. “Are you okay? Jesus, I’m here squeezing you like crazy and you’ve just been through hell.”

  I grin at him, trying to calm his worry. “Relax. I’m fine. Sore, but fine.”

  Leo wraps his arm around my back and holds me gently. “I felt so fucking helpless. I don’t know if I could watch you go through that again.”

  I reflect on the last few hours for a moment. “I won’t lie. That was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

  “But you made it through. You were perfect.”

  Leo kisses the side of my head just as the procession of visitors and our new housemate reenter the room.

  “Six pounds, eight ounces. Nineteen inches,” Jack announces as he brings Dante back to me. He’s practically swimming in the yellow blanket he’s wrapped in. He’s got a long-sleeved white shirt on that’s much too big for his tiny body. The top of his newborn diaper is folded under to avoid hitting the clamped stump of the umbilical cord sticking out from his belly button.

  “Hi, Dante,” I say softly to him.

  His eyes open at the sound of my voice, and I know he recognizes me. He’s completely aware that he’s in the warmth and comfort of his mother’s embrace.

  I’m rendered speechless by the beautiful dark irises staring up at me. I swear I can see the hint of blue in there. He’s going to have his father’s eyes. I look to Leo and we’re both just beaming smiles.

  Dante starts moving around, his arms reaching out and his legs kicking slightly as he nuzzles his head toward me.

  “Someone’s hungry,” Mom teases from the corner of the room with a smile on her face, though she still seems to be in a constant state of dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

  I look down at the anxious baby within my arms and know what I need to do, though I’m a little unsure how to approach it. When I pull up my shirt and cradle the child to my breast, though, instincts kick in for both of us. It takes only a moment for him to latch on, tugging gently at my nipple with his tiny mouth.

  I catch Leo’s gaze as he’s watching his son and the beauty of this moment with admiration, and I can’t help teasing him. “Don’t be jealous,” I warn with a smile.

  Leo’s face immediately reddens as laughter fills the room. He looks at me like I’m crazy, but I can only laugh with the rest of them.

  Hours pass as we observe in awe our new family member who seemed to appear out of nowhere this morning. Dante drifts in and out of sleep as we all take turns holding him. Lullabies are whispered. Pictures are taken. Love is showered over this tiny baby who has already brought so much joy to our lives despite how little time he has spent outside of my belly.

  It’s early evening, and when Jack and my parents retire to bed, it’s just me, Leo, and Dante left in our bedroom, our first true time together as a family. Leo and I sit in bed, his body snuggled up against mine. He runs his fingers gingerly over Dante’s tiny head until the baby pulls away from my breast and falls back asleep.

  I can feel my own eyelids getting heavy as I watch his peaceful slumber. He has warmth and comfort in my arms, and I share those feelings in how Leo is pressed up against me.

  “You should get some rest,” Leo suggests with a smirk.

  I’m too exhausted to even think about playing into his joke. “I won’t fight you this time.”

  Leo readjusts on the bed and carefully pulls the sleeping bundle of baby from my arms into his. I push through the discomfort of moving my lower body and slide myself down the headboard until my head hits the pillow.

  It’s the most amazing feeling to lie here and watch Leo cradle his son in his arms, walking around the room with a warm smile on his face, in a state of pure bliss unlike I have ever seen him.

  When he passes close to the bed, his hand slips into mine and gives a tight squeeze. “Get some sleep. We’ll be just fine.”

  I manage a small nod and a smile before my eyes can’t stay open a moment longer.

  Leo starts his unhurried rounds throughout the room, whispering softly to his son within his embrace, making me fall in love with them both even more.

  24

  Her Devotion

  ∞

  I can ask for nothing more

  than I am already given.

  The light she shines into my life.

  The child she delivered into my arms.

  The love she shows me every day.

  My family is everything.

  So much gained, yet so much to lose.

  And I will protect them at all costs.

  Whatever it takes.

  ∞

  It’s a beautiful thing to awaken to the natural sunlight of day and a silent house. In the last few weeks I’ve become accustomed to Dante’s cries for food and comfort waking us up in the morning, but today is an exception. Today I get to enjoy the feeling of being wrapped around Morgan in bed before we get up to see to Dante’s needs.

  And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.

  My arm is already around Morgan’s more normal-sized belly, but I tighten my grip on her just a little, taking in the warmth of her body next to me and letting her presence keep me in a peaceful state. I have everything I could ever want in this house between the woman in my arms and the baby in the nursery down the hall. I never thought life would feel as complete as this, but it truly does, and I couldn’t be happier.

  Morgan stirs next to me. I know I should stay still and let her fall back asleep, but I’m a little greedy this morning. I release my grip of her and move my hand to her hair, running my fingers through the silky dark blond strands.

  She draws a deep breath and turns her head around to see me. Her expression forms a brilliant smile, and I can’t help kissing her, first softly on the cheek, then harder and deeper and with more intensity as she shifts the rest of her body onto her back to give me better access. My hand cups the side of her face, pulling her to me harder with each kiss so I can taste her and give her all the love she deserves.

  My hand lingers down her neck until my curious fingers venture out to trace the line of her collarbone and slowly work down her chest. When my hand slips under her silky camisole to find her firm breast, the desire to take her nipple in my mouth to relieve some of that pressure is almost overpowering, but I leave that task for the baby who I know will be wild with hunger for his mother’s milk when he wakes up.

  My touch finds the curve of Morgan’s hip before sneaking past the lining of her underwear. I probe gently, finding that she’s already wet and waiting for my touch. My fingers move to the one place I can pleasure her during her recovery from childbirth, and I take full advantage of it, giving her clit the utmost attention of my fingers while I continue to kiss her.

  The circular motions are soft and slow at first, causing her to quiver and moan. Her eyes roll
back into her head in pure bliss as my fingers quicken and apply just enough pressure to keep her on that brink of ultimate pleasure. Her hips writhe against my hand until she gasps out and unleashes a flurry of muffled expletives.

  Reluctant to let go, I let my fingers continue to work her clit until her quick breaths become more even and she’s able to look me in the eyes like a normal person again.

  “Jesus, Leo.” Her hand reaches out to the side of my face, but she can’t seem to find any more words to say.

  I’ve rendered her essentially speechless. I’d call that success.

  Her hand on my face quickly works its way down my neck and shoulder to my arm. Within moments it’s trailing down my chest until it finds just how excited I am to see her next to me this morning.

  The silence around us is shattered as the first cries begin over the baby monitor, a slight whimper at first that builds to Dante’s signature cry of hunger.

  Morgan and I look at each other and smile, knowing that our intimate moment is over and it’s time for us to get up and be parents, but we’re not upset about it. I know she shares my sentiment that Dante’s needs come before everything else, even if that means sleepless nights and lack of couple time. We’d do anything and everything for him.

  “I’ll get Dante if you’ll start some coffee?” Morgan offers.

  “Deal. I’ll even throw in making pancakes.”

  “Spoiling me today.” She grins and kisses me briefly before we both roll out of bed.

  Morgan can’t seem to take her eyes off my bare chest and looks disappointed as I throw on a white T-shirt. She pouts playfully as she starts walking down the hall in her camisole and underwear. She’s going to make it hard to concentrate on making breakfast if she stays dressed–or undressed–like that all morning.

  I hear her speak soothing words to Dante over the baby monitor as I wash up quickly in the bathroom. By the time I make it out to the living room, she already has Dante dressed and nursing in her arms.