Give Me Forever Love (Give Me Series Book 3)

by Paige P. Horne

  “Exactly,” I say, pointing my finger again and holding my belly because Rylee just kicked. She’s cheering me on. Girls stick with girls.

  “So, let’s see you do it then.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  She nods toward the door. “Let’s see you tell that mean man to shove it up his ass.”

  My head snaps to the door and there stands my overbearing, with asshole tendencies, bossy, gorgeous, so-in-love-with-me-and-our-baby, husband.

  “Don’t you think you went a little far with that?” Bryce says to Claire.

  She shrugs. “If the shoe fits.”

  Bryce only rolls his eyes before crossing his arms. “Will you give us a moment?” he asks her.

  She carefully cradles Axel. “Sure. I’ll be downstairs,” she says to me.

  I nod, but don’t say anything because I’m still mad at this punk.

  Claire walks by Bryce and he gives the little guy a poke in the belly, which Axel returns with a giggle and it’s the cutest. He’s almost a year old now, and he’s adorable. “I have no idea what he finds so funny about you,” Claire mumbles.

  “You know you love me,” he returns.

  She makes a gagging noise before she disappears.

  Those two.

  I swear, I thought Claire would get over it by now, but she still holds this small grudge or something against Bryce. Their banter is cute at times, though, almost brother and sister-like, but she’s still hesitant.

  Bryce walks in the room, and I back up a tad. He notices and then exhales. “K, this is ridiculous. You can’t keep running to Claire and Austin’s house every time we get in a fight.”

  “Who’s running? I drove over in my car.”

  He rubs his hand down his face. It’s a new-ish move. He still does the scratching the back of his neck or readjusting his snapback thing, but ever since I started to show and we started to drive each other more insane than we already do, it’s the face scrub.

  “Don’t be a smartass.”

  “No one is being a smartass. I was simply stating a fact. You and I both know I can’t run. I’m not allowed to, remember?” I say, straight-faced.

  “Jesus,” he says. “Can we just go home and talk this out? I’m sorry I told you to not to get the clothes out of the dryer. That was my mistake.” He holds up his hands. “Please let’s just go home. I’ll rub your feet.”

  My eyebrows quirk at the mention of rubbing my feet. This makes things interesting… But it may also lead to sex, which wouldn’t be a bad idea either, because I could use a good orgasm.

  This could be a win-win for me. After it’s all done, I can take a bath with the door locked and read one of the best sellers I’ve got stacked up in my room that I have to display at Mugs & Books.

  “Okay,” I say. “You’ve got a deal.”

  He exhales dramatically. “Thank God. I know Claire and Austin think we’re batshit.”

  “Don’t put me in that pot with you. I’m completely sane,” I say, wobbling past him.

  “Yes. Of course, you are, wife,” he says, following behind me.

  “I heard that sarcasm.”

  He doesn’t respond. Truth is, I know I’m a little crazy these days. There’s just been a lot going on. We’ve been traveling a good bit. Bryce has been getting back into the horseracing business.

  Legal this time…

  I’ve been picking up all kinds of things for Rylee. Her room is completely done in horses and dirt bikes (Bryce’s idea). I can’t say it’s entirely his doing. the first outfit I bought her had a dirt bike on it, after all.

  Mills has been over a lot, and even bought his own place a few streets from us. We put in a pool, and Bryce and Dad wanted to build the deck themselves. So, there’s that business.

  Claire and Austin come over with Axel, and we all swim and spend time together. We’ve even had a few cookouts. It’s July in Georgia, so I’m dying with this heat and being pregnant. The pool is my saving grace…that and the claw tub Bryce made sure I had.

  He can be sweet…sometimes.

  “I see you lost the battle,” Claire says as we come down the stairs.

  “In my defense, he’s promised me a foot rub.”

  She nods. “Well played, Grant. Well played.” Axel rubs his sleepy eyes.

  “Give me a kiss, big boy.” I lean down and kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

  Bryce opens the door, and we say our goodbyes.

  “Good thing you didn’t unpack this time,” Austin says.

  I flick him off. “I think I should just keep clothes here.”

  “Nope.” Bryce shakes his head and hurries me out.

  I laugh, because really this is ridiculous, but he needs to chill the hell out.

  “We need to talk about that ‘just in case’ bag you always have packed.”

  “What about it?” I ask.

  “It needs to be unpacked, K.”

  I sigh. “But it’s so much fun getting you all worked up.”

  He points at me as he opens the door passenger side door to his car.

  “Watch it, wife, or no foot rub.”

  I act like I’m zipping a zipper over my lips.

  “I got my car,” I say.

  “We’ll get it later. I want to take you to get ice cream.”

  “Man, you’re really doing a good job at this sucking up thing.” I wobble over to his car as I reach into my pocket for my phone to text Claire and let her know I’ll be back to get mine after ice cream. It’s parked on the curb, in front of the apartment, but just in case because she’s a worrier.

  I climb in and he shuts the door. He strolls over to his side and opens the door.

  “Dude, hurry up, I’m starting to burn alive.”

  “I’m hurrying,” he says, putting the keys in and flipping the AC on high. We pull out and head through town.

  “So, are you going to unpack it?” he asks as we stop at a red light.

  “No, because it’s actually my hospital bag.”

  He looks over at me and I laugh. “Well, that makes sense,” he says as the light turns green. We head straight as the sun fades behind the tall buildings of Atlanta. I turn my head when I see a bright light in the corner of my eye, and it’s as if time stands completely still. I hit Bryce’s arm to get his attention, but it’s too late.

  The car does a complete rotation after I hear metal bend and glass shatter. The sun flashes behind my closed lids, and my head hits the window.

  Lights out.

  Chapter Thirty- One

  Bryce

  The sound of the car horn is all I hear, but then something else catches my attention. My ears perk and I move, wincing when I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. The air bag is deployed, and I turn my head to see K.

  “Kat,” I choke, moving and hissing as I do. She’s not conscious. Visions of my brother as a little boy swim through my mind, causing panic to shake my bones. I’ve got to get us out of here. Steam drifts from the hood of the car, and there’s glass everywhere.

  “Kat, wake up,” I shake her shoulder, but she doesn’t move. I unhook my seatbelt and remove it. I sit up, looking over her stomach to make sure there’s been no outer damage. “K. Can you hear me, baby?” I ask, reaching to feel her pulse, but just as I do, I’m snatched out of the driver’s side door.

  “What the fuck?” I say, looking up as a man slings me on the ground, tiny shards of glass cutting my palms. He points a gun at me. I put my hands up. “Man, that’s my wife in there. She’s pregnant.” What the fuck is going on here? My eyes are wild, my pulse out of beat.

  He’s got a ski mask on, and all I see are his shiny teeth as he grins before spitting on the ground beside me. “Tell Moretti to stay off our turf.” He shoots the gun and hits me in the shoulder. A loud ringing filters through my ears as my nervous system goes haywire in shock of what just happen.

  “Who the fuck is Moretti?” I call out in pain, feeling the coolness from my blood as it spills onto the pavement.
I groan as he climbs into an SUV and speeds out of here.

  People run up to us. “Call the fucking ambulance,” I say, my vision fading as too much blood leaks from the wound. “My wife.” I black out.

  ______________

  I wake with the sound of beeping and the smell of bleach. I open my eyes, feeling the hard burn from the gunshot.

  “K,” I say, looking around frantically. My voice sounds like gravel, and my throat burns like hot ash. I spot the clock on the wall. It’s been hours since the wreck. Taking in my surroundings, I see I’m hooked to an IV drip, and I’m alone in the hospital room. I throw the covers off of me with my good arm and swing my legs over.

  I stand, my knees give out, and I fall to the floor, ripping the IV from my arm and other things I didn’t see attached to me in the dark room. An alarm goes off as blood drips down my arm. The door swings open and a nurse runs in.

  “Mr. Grant. What are you doing? Get back in bed right now,” a black woman with her hair pulled back says. “You’ve just come out of surgery. You need to rest.”

  “My wife,” I say as she tries to lift me up from the floor. “Where is she?”

  “Your wife?” she asks, looking confused.

  “Yes,” I say.

  A man wearing burgundy scrubs runs into the room, much bigger than the nurse. He bends down and lifts me up, coaxing me back to the bed, but I don’t want to get back in it until I find out about K and Rylee.

  Oh God. My girl. My baby girl.

  Kat is nine months pregnant.

  I yank out of his hold and head for the door. Damn my shoulder, damn those beeping ass machines and the nurses chasing after me.

  I run up to the counter in a hospital gown, hurting like a motherfucker and out of it from the painkillers coursing through my veins. I hit the counter. “Kathrine Grant. Where is she?” I demand.

  “Sir, you need to get back to your room,” the nurse at the desk says. Sweat slides down the side of my face as my body tells me this is too much.

  “For fuck’s sake.” I hit the counter again with my fist. “Will someone tell me where my goddamn wife is? She’s pregnant. Please.” I look down, my thoughts going to a bad place. The SUV hit us hard, enough to spin us around a few times, and there was so much glass, and it hit her side, and she wasn’t awake and… “We were in a wreck. She wasn’t conscious. Our baby.” I look up with tears in my eyes. Jesus, why aren’t these people talking to me?

  “Kathrine Grant?” the woman behind the desks says as the other two nurses grab onto my arms, trying to get me back in my room. Blood trickles down my forearm, and I’m feeling weaker by the minute.

  In my peripheral, someone comes barreling down the hall. “I told you,” I hear. “I fucking told you this was going to happen.” The nurses drop my arms as I turn my head.

  I look at the woman I know is coming my way. Claire. She reaches out and slaps me across my face, causing me to see stars, literally.

  I blink and open my mouth.

  “You did this,” she says. “You are the reason.”

  A shake my head, trying to get a grip on reality.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jace comes in from two big doors that opened automatically. His eyes look from me to the nurses to Claire. He has a coffee in his hand, and he looks tired as shit, but clean.

  “Jace,” I say, hoping he’ll tell me something.

  “Man, you shouldn’t be out of bed.” He walks closer to me, eyeballing Claire whose fist are balled. She could hit me again any minute, but why is she hitting me?

  “Where’s K?” I ask them both.

  “She’s asleep,” Jace says. “She’s banged up pretty bad, brother.”

  My heart passes out. Literally leaves me with just my thoughts and this weak-ass body.

  “How bad?” I ask. “The baby?”

  “Why don’t we get you back in bed, Mr. Grant,” the lady nurse suggests again, trying her best to convince me. “We can explain everything to you there. You’re going to pass out. You haven’t given your body enough time…” I hold up my hand to stop her.

  “Rylee?” I ask Jace.

  “She’s here. K went into labor. She’s perfect.” He smiles at me, looking proud.

  I choke out a sob of relief. Tears fall down my face without me even realizing it. So much fear, so much goddamn terror in my chest. How can I love something so much already? I haven’t even met her, but she’s got my heart waking up and on its knees, thanking God.

  “I want to see them,” I say. “Take me to them.”

  “You don’t have the right to see them. You put them in this situation,” Claire says.

  I narrow my eyes at her, my blood boiling with rage.

  “You don’t tell me what I have the right to do. That’s my wife and my baby,” I say, eerily calm because I want it to sink into that thick fucking skull of hers. I’ve dealt with her mouth long enough.

  “You best stay out of this one, Claire. I’m not playing with you anymore.” Claire clamps her mouth shut. I move my eyes slowly away from her and look back to the nurse. “Take me to them.”

  “Sir, we really…”

  “Now!” I yell.

  They all look at each other. “Okay,” she says. “Get him a wheelchair and let’s put that IV back in his arm.

  I wait for them to do what she asks as she walks around the nurses’ desk.

  “What happened?” Jace asks me.

  I shake my head as I think back. “I don’t know. We were headed to get ice cream and an SUV ran the red light.”

  “Who shot you then?” Jace asks, looking at Claire like she’s being a bitch for nothing. But she isn’t.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”

  As I think back on the threat, the nurse walks back to me and begins cleaning the blood off my arm. I feel Claire’s eyes boring into me. She knows something’s up. The girl has a sixth sense about shit. It’s annoying.

  I’m told to sit down, and the IV is replaced. “You can spend a few minutes with them, but then you have to get some rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone. And Kathrine is going to need you,” the lady nurse says. I look at her badge. “Thanks, Linda,” I say as she wheels me to see K. Jace and Claire follow behind as we head to the elevator. We don’t speak as we head to the floor my family is on.

  My mind replays the whole accident—that wasn’t an accident. That man sought me out. I pinch the bridge of my nose, my arm starting to pulse. What was that name he said?

  And why the hell did he shoot me? He wasn’t aiming to kill. He was sending a message, but to whom? Who do I know that would be connected to…?

  Holy shit.

  Bones.

  Chapter Thirty- Two

  Bryce

  The nurse opens the door, and I see Mills sitting in a chair, looking down at a newspaper. He looks up.

  “Hey, man.” He folds the paper and stands, but my eyes go to K who’s asleep, or knocked out, or I don’t know, because she’s blood-dried and her arm is wrapped. She looks so damn fragile, my heart splits in two.

  I go to push off the wheelchair, but the nurse touches my shoulder. “I’ll take you to her,” Linda says.

  I nod, feeling drained. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Linda parks the chair. “I’m not her nurse, so I’m not sure. I’ll go grab the doctor so he can explain everything to you.”

  “Thanks,” I say as she leaves the room. Everyone is quiet. Not a single sound but the machines K is hooked up to. Her hair is a knotted mess, her face pale. Her lips are dry, and it’s only been a few hours. But she’s been through hell.

  “Do you know, Mills?” I ask, not taking my eyes off K. I reach up and grab her hand, bringing it to my lips.

  He clears his throat. “Let’s let the doctor tell you. I’m not good at that sort of thing.” He tosses the folded paper onto the chair he was seated in. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says. “She’s alive, and I think she’ll be okay, too, and Rylee is in the nursery.”
/>   I look at him.

  He smirks. “She’s a cute kid. You did good. I think I’ll go see her.”

  I nod, too emotional to say anything right now. Dear God, what would I have done if they didn’t make it?

  How could I survive?

  “Let’s give the man some privacy,” Mills says to Jace and Claire. I don’t look back at them, but I’m sure Claire is putting up a fight. Surprisingly, she doesn’t say anything, though.

  “I’ll be outside having a smoke, brother,” Jace says.

  I hear the door click shut, and I exhale as I shut my eyes. My chest caves, and my heart weeps for the ones we love.

  Did I do this?

  Did my affiliation with Danny cause this? I wipe my face and sniff.

  Moretti.

  Who the hell is that?

  I need answers. I need to find out what the fuck happened and why they came after my family and me. The door behind me opens, and I turn my head to see a man with gray hair and a white coat.

  “Mr. Grant?” he asks.

  I clear my throat and sniff again. “Yeah,” I say, my voice sounding hoarse.

  “I hear you’ve caused quite a ruckus,” he says, walking around the room and sitting where Mills was.

  I don’t reply to that. “Can you tell me what’s wrong with my wife?” I ask, not asshole-like, just tired and wanting some answers.

  He nods, understanding that I’m not in a playful mood.

  “She’s been through quite a lot today. She has a mild concussion. Her arm has been cut pretty deep from the passenger side window. The whole right side of her body is bruised severely, but thankfully, there are no broken bones. She’s lucky that truck hit the backside of the car. Otherwise, this might not have turned out so well. She’s going to be very sore over the next few days.”

  “Why is she asleep?” I ask.

  “We gave her something to help her rest. She’s been worried sick about you, but her body has been through it. She went into labor when she woke up and they told her you’d been shot and were in surgery. Luckily, the baby was ready to say hello, so it went well.

  “But her body was already in shock, so like I said, she’s been through it.” He looks over at her. “She’s a tough one. She’ll be just fine as long as she takes it easy for a while.” He stands up. “Now, you, on the other hand, need rest.”