“Hold . . . hold on. Let me . . .—let me put Beck on.” Her words wobble and her breath hitches a few times before I hear Beck take the phone.
“Listen to me, brother.”
I nod my head even though I know he can’t see me. My whole body is about to shut down. I just look at Axel and beg him to make my fears unwarranted. His normally tan skin is pale, and his eyes are concerned and . . . full of agony.
NO! No, oh God . . . NO!
“Greg, I’m going to tell you something and I want you to keep your shit together, no matter how hard this is going to be. Axel’s ready to help you. Let him.”
“Just say it,” I plead.
“There was an accident, Greg. Melissa and Cohen . . . Jesus, Cohen was taken by ambulance to the hospital. From what little I was able to get from one of the first responders on the scene, he’s not badly injured.”
I close my eyes. I know that my son is okay, but that relief is short-lived when I realize he’s stopped talking and hasn’t mentioned how my very pregnant wife is.
“John Beckett, you tell me right now that my wife, my fucking heart, is okay. Tell me right now that Melissa, Cohen, and my girls are okay!” I don’t even attempt to wipe the tears that are falling down my face. Axel clamps his arm down on my shoulder, offering his support.
“She had to be airlifted out, Greg. You need to let Axel get you to the hospital as soon as you can. It . . . it doesn’t look good.”
I drop the phone, hearing it shatter against the sidewalk, and it isn’t until I’m sitting in Axel’s truck while he speeds down the interstate that I realize those terrifying wails I hear are coming from me.
CHAPTER 8
Melissa
Two Hours Earlier
I hate that Greg won’t be with me for the shower. I know he said that he would try his best, but knowing why he got called in is making me crazier. Or I should say who is behind the reason he was called in. Everyone knows how that terrible Mrs. Hutchins is. She has her sights on all the men at Corps Security. I wouldn’t even be shocked if she has tried to get some action from openly gay Davey. Greg’s told me over and over how frustrating she is, and I know he’ll be there longer than he wishes.
I don’t pretend to understand why they keep her on as a client, but I trust my husband, so I’ll give him the support he needs, even if I wish he were by my side right now.
I pull up to the intersection, adjusting my belt so that it doesn’t keep digging into my belly, and take a deep breath. It doesn’t do me any good to stress over a situation I can’t control. I know it’s my hormones making me insane. Seriously, I know that Greg doesn’t have any interest in a baby shower. Hell, if I weren’t the one with enough emotional crazy rushing through my veins right now, I would probably laugh at a husband being dragged to a shower for his pregnant wife. I know he doesn’t care; he’s just doing this because I want him there.
“Mommy, will I get presents too?”
I look away from the light a few cars ahead of me, still red, before looking up and focusing on Cohen’s reflection in my rearview mirror.
I smile from just looking at his messy brown hair a few weeks past due for a cut, tousled just the way Greg’s always is these days. His brown eyes, always bright with unshed energy, and that crooked smile never fail to melt my heart. I instantly want to start sobbing with the strength of my love for this little guy.
“Mommy, your face looks funny like it does when you cry. Are you going to cry? I don’t have to get presents. I can wait till my birthday if you forgot them. Will Aunt Izzy have cake? I like leopards. Can we get my girls some leopards to match their sheets in their beds?” His smile gets bigger and he shakes his head rapidly.
“I love you, you know that?” I ask, smiling at him one more time before returning my eyes to the road when I see the light turn green.
“I know. I’m awesome.”
“Yes, you sure are.” I laugh, waiting for the car in front of me to go. I swear, traffic is a mess today. Apparently everyone and their mothers have somewhere they have to be.
“Can we buy a boat? I hope Aunt Izzy got a big cake. I’m going to eat it all up and get big like Maddox Locke.”
“Cohen, you are so silly. Why don’t you just call him Maddox?” Cohen’s been calling Maddox by his full name for so long now that it’s almost slipped out from my own lips a few times. Everyone thinks it’s the cutest thing ever, but honestly, it’s just another weird little piece of Cohen logic that helps make him the coolest kid around.
“Because.”
“Because why?”