Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Ella
The popping sound of gunfire shouldn’t be a comfort, but it is—because I think it means we’re being rescued.
I just hope everyone on our side is okay. Kingston and Sebastian wouldn’t be out there, would they? The police would want them to wait outside.
But would they listen to the police?
Probably not.
Gianna is breathing like birthing women do in the movies, big huge breaths of power and pain. Her face twists in anguish as contraction after contraction takes her. She’s barely getting any rest at all between them, now. This baby is on the way.
“Okay, Gianna, you got this,” I say, kneeling in front of her and helping Tommy take her leggings off. I never thought I’d be this close to my brother’s girlfriend’s vagina, but here I am.
Tommy, to his credit, is right next to me, a hand on Gianna’s knee, and encouraging words on his lips. His face and body have been battered for days, and yet he’s here and supporting Gianna, just like he ought to.
Voices shout beyond the door, but in this little room, it feels like a different world.
“I think the police are here,” Tommy says. “Can you hold off pushing, Gianna?”
She shakes her head and cries out in pain again. “I have to push!”
“There’s nothing else to do—this baby is coming right the fuck now,” I say.
“Then I guess it’s up to you and me and Gianna,” Tommy says.
“We’re here for you,” I tell Gianna. “You can do this. We’re all going to greet your beautiful baby, just push for us again, okay?”
She yells loudly and bears down. The slippery infant emerges into Tommy’s hands just as the door to the tiny room bursts open. Several men and women in tactical gear stand on the other side of the door, gaping in surprise.
The baby lets loose a loud, healthy wail.
Tommy holds the baby in his arms, a look of combined surprise and absolute love on his face.
My heart swells, too, as the baby flails its brand new arms and Tommy holds him close.
Emotion thickens in my chest and throat, and tears fill my eyes.
Maybe this is isn’t the birth any of us imagined for this baby, but the baby’s here now and we’re all going to be safe.
“She—no, he —is beautiful,” I tell Gianna.
“Our little boy is perfect,” Tommy says, and he’s crying, too. He moves closer to pass the baby to Gianna. She cradles him against her chest, crying happy tears.
“We need a doctor—an ambulance,” I say. “And someone needs to cut the cord, I guess?”
“I’m a trained emergency responder,” one of the men says, striding forward. “An ambulance is waiting outside, too.”
My shoulders relax. All that responsibility—I don’t have to carry it anymore.
People who know what they’re doing are finally here, thank heavens.
Someone wraps up the baby, cuts the cord, and starts to see to Gianna.
I hold her hand while I hug Tommy, but I’m already looking toward the door.
Surely Kingston and Sebastian are out there somewhere, looking for me?
Sure enough, Sebastian strides forward, face pale, strained, his mouth in a grim line. He lights up when he sees me, though, and in no time he’s tugging me into an embrace, those giant tattooed arms wrapping around me and holding me close. I sigh in relief. His heartbeat is strong and solid.
“Ella,” he murmurs into my curls. “Ella, you’re alive.”
“Yes. I knew you would come.”
“Of course we did. Marco Ruberetta’s in police custody, and so is Keith Mayberry and the others.” He leans back so he can look over my face. His jaw clenches as he takes in my injuries—my swollen eye, my cut lip. “They hurt you.”
“Not too bad,” I say. “Nothing that won’t heal. Where’s—where’s King?”
Sebastian looks down.
“Bash?” I ask, panic choking my throat. “Where is he?”
* * *
Kingston
I flicker in and out of dreams and reality. Ella is sometimes there, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Squeezing my hand. Reading aloud, I think, or talking to me. It isn’t clear. Not much is clear at all, actually.
A soft, rhythmic beeping lulls me to sleep, but I’d fight it if it weren’t for Ella’s hand in mine, and her whispered reassurances that all is well and I can rest.
When I fully wake up sometime later, Ella’s gone and Sebastian’s sitting next to me, reading something on his phone. His hair is messed up, his whiskers longer than usual.
“Hey,” I say.
“Welcome back, man. How are you feeling?”
I take brief stock of my body. “Like absolute shit. What happened?”
“You got shot in the fucking chest. One of your lungs collapsed. It was ugly,” Sebastian says.
“ You’re ugly,” I say.
He laughs. “Glad to see you’re back to your usual, mean self.”
“Where is she?”
He doesn’t need to ask who I mean. “Getting coffee. Her ass was falling asleep—she’s barely left your side.”
“How long have I been out?”
“A couple of days. You woke up a few times, but you probably don’t remember it.”
Given the pain in my chest, it’s probably a good thing that I don’t remember.
“She’ll be back any minute. She probably got stopped by fans. She’s been giving out more autographs than I am—the girl’s getting too popular for her own good.”
“Jealous, old man?” I ask.
He laughs. “No. Proud. So fucking proud of her.”
“Me, too.”
He looks toward the door, and I turn my head to follow his gaze. There stands Ella, two cups of coffee in her hands, wearing jeans and a hoodie. Her face is bare of makeup and her hair is pulled up into a messy bun, and she’s more beautiful than ever.
“Baby girl,” I say.
She grins widely at me. “Daddy. You’re awake.”
“Yes, I am.”
“How are you feeling?” she asks. “Are you in any pain? I’ll page the nurse?—”
“I’m fine,” I say. “How soon can you break me out of this place?”
She looks at Bash. “What did the doctor say? Four weeks?”
“Four weeks ?” I exclaim.
She giggles, and Bash laughs.
“A couple more days,” she says. “They want to monitor your healing just in case.”
“You two are horrible, you know that?” I say to them.
“So horrible,” Ella agrees, passing the coffees to Bash so she can climb onto the hospital bed with me.
She’s careful of all the stupid needles and monitors and whatever the hell else they have me Frankensteined to, and soon enough, she’s cuddling with me, and I swear, it’s better than any pain killer.
* * *
Ella
Three weeks have gone by. I pull into the bank parking lot in the car that Kingston and Sebastian bought for me.
It’s a nicer make and model than I would’ve picked out for myself, but honestly, it’s kind of great to allow them to pamper me sometimes.
They really like to do it, and I’m growing more comfortable with accepting their generosity.
As soon as I kill the ignition, I look around for Tommy. He’s already here, standing near the bank entrance and looking all dapper and polished, ready for when he goes to work in half an hour. He has a job at a cell phone store now.
He’s really getting his shit together. He attends a weekly support group for recovering gambling addicts.
On those nights, I hang out with Gianna, giving her breaks from baby duties or cooking or just generally hanging out.
I think Tommy’s going to propose to her sooner rather than later, and I’m enjoying hanging out with my future sister-in-law.
Owen, the baby, is a champion sleeper, which is lucky for Gianna and Tommy. And even though he’s only three weeks old, I could swear I see him smiling sometimes.
I get out of my car and walk to the front of the bank, which is just opening.
“Hey, E,” Tommy says, giving me a hug.
“Hey.” I hug him back. Three weeks after that terrible night, and I think I’m finally forgiving him, getting over the hell he put me, Gianna, and Owen through. It helps that I can see he’s making a real effort to turn his life around.
“I got paid last week. My first check.” He holds out an envelope.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
“I’m going to pay half of Dad’s bills. You shouldn’t have had to cover it all on your own.”
“Tommy—I can afford it now,” I say. It’s true—I can. Helena has booked me more gigs at the Red Letter, and my VideYou channel is as strong as ever. I’m even putting together an album, and graciously allowing Bastian Crown to collaborate with me on a couple of tracks.
Tommy looks down. “Right, well, you shouldn’t have to.”
“It’s already taken care of,” I say.
“Then I’m paying you back. I talked to Gianna, and she’s good with it.
I’m going to do my part, do right. I’m going to do what Dad would have wanted.
He wanted me to be honest with you from the beginning, I think, which is probably another reason he never told you about this safe deposit box. He wanted me to tell you.”
“It’s okay,” I say. I’ll probably never figure everything out. But right now, we’re going to find out what’s in that box. I look at the front doors of the bank. “Do you think it’s valuable, whatever he put in there?”
“Sentimental, probably,” he says, pushing the envelope toward me again. “Don’t change the subject…take the money.”
Now I understand why Kingston and Sebastian were so frustrated with me when I wouldn’t accept help. “I don’t want your money, Tommy—you don’t have anything to prove.”
“Please?” he says.
“Fine.” I take the envelope and tuck it into my bag. As soon as we leave the bank, I’m asking Kingston for the name of a good financial advisor. I’ll use Tommy’s payments to set up some kind of college fund for Owen.
“Thank you,” he says. “And I’m buying you back your keyboard, as soon as I can afford it. I’m so sorry I let them take it. I was afraid they were going to hurt you, but I see now what I did was wrong.”
“It was wrong, but I forgive you,” I say.
His blue eyes look wetter than normal, and he blinks rapidly. “Really?”
“Truly.” I hug him again.
“Ready?” Tommy asks, wiping his eyes and gesturing to the bank’s doors.
There’s no putting it off any longer. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
We go inside, follow all the steps necessary to reach the safe deposit box. When they ask for the password, Tommy looks at me.