28. Chapter 27
Psycho
I slowly rub my hand over my mouth as I watch Hudson’s little chest move up and down, his arms slowly moving and I feel useless, so fucking useless.
The doctor explained last night, when I stormed in demanding answers, that they got him on certain medications to keep him in a sleep state so he doesn’t pull his tube out.
A fucking breathing tube.
He’s four and a half months old, a size of a thirty two week old premature baby and still isn’t clear medically and for four and a half fucking months Ivy has sat here day in day out, not knowing if not only I would wake up but if she’d lose our son as well.
She’s fucking sat here blaming herself, not knowing how to face me, face our past.
I sigh and sit forward, rubbing my hand through my hair, my head still hurting a little after last night hitting me like a ton of fucking bricks.
I haven’t got all my memories. Some things are a little hazy from when I was twenty, but before Ivy even kissed me and we locked eyes, I got a few flashes of us, her body writhing underneath mine, all our friends dates slowly flickering in my mind and as soon as Ivy kissed me, everything between us hit me fucking hard in the chest it nearly knocked me for six.
I thought my head was going to fucking explode and when I saw her stomach flat, our son coming to mind instantly, panic like no other filled me.
I thought she lost him, I thought when I shoved her out of the way of the bullet, I knocked her too hard that her fall killed our son, but instead, I ended up causing her to go into labor twenty fucking weeks early.
I look up, my eyes locking on my son, who is beating the odds so far.
I forced Ivy to go leave for a few hours, knowing yesterday was most likely the first time she’d left our son.
I encouraged her to get some air or have a hot shower.
I told her I’d stay here with him. According to Nurse Canter, Hudson’s main nurse, that was the first time she hadn’t argued with anyone about leaving him.
She needed me, but was putting my mental health first.
I swallow hard, eyeing his chest again.
He’s so fucking small.
How in the fuck has my girl managed to sit here day in and day fucking out without falling apart? I’ve sat here all morning, and I’m ready to break.
“Hey, sweet boy,” I hear from my right, and I mumble, “Hey, Mama,” without taking my eyes off Hudson.
Hudson Grayson.
She gave him my middle name and Macky’s middle name, naming him after her two favorite men, or so she said last night while she was curled up on my lap watching him sleep.
“How are you feeling?” Mama asks, and without looking away from my son, I reply, “My head still hurts a little, but otherwise, I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should go get checked out?” she asks, but I slowly shake my head and deny, “I’m not leaving my son, especially while Ivy isn’t here, after I encouraged her to get some time to herself.”
“I can stay with him,” she tries and I look at her, feeling very fucking tired.
“I’m not leaving him, Mama. Ivy has done this alone for over four months, even handing in her notice at Garys Motors.
She sat here with no other distraction, worrying, not knowing how to control her emotions.
I can’t leave, Mama,” I admit and her eyes tear up as she nods, and I look back at my son, my mind going round in circles, questions that still need to be answered, swirling.
“She wouldn’t leave him, would she? That’s why I haven’t seen her the past few weeks?” I confirm.
“When you were admitted, she spent every single night with you while her days were in this room, and now, well, all her time is here,” Mama looks at Hudson, “I think the only reason she managed to leave yesterday was because she got to hold him for the first time.”
I swallow hard and ask, “She never held him?”
She looks at me, “No, sweetheart, she was out of it for two days, and when she woke, her whole world was torn apart. Her best friend, the love of her life, was in a coma, and the doctor wanted her to take your son off oxygen.”
I look back at my son, my heart pounding.
“They didn’t think he would survive?” I confirm, and Mama sniffles.
“There was under a five percent chance he was going to survive, and even now, he isn’t out of the woods,” she whispers, and I swear my heart drops.
Sighing, I sit forward and link my fingers together, not taking my eyes off my son.
“Do you remember everything that happened?” Mama asks, and I hum.
“Where Ivy is concerned, yeah, I do. There are some memories that are a blur, but Ivy, our son, Clara, Hayden, yeah, I remember everything,” I admit, “I remember the feeling of disappointment and the hurt.” I shake my head, “She lost my trust by not trusting me with the whole Clara situation. She hurt me not telling me about our son.”
“You’ve both been through a lot, sweetheart,” Mama says.
I nod in agreement and mutter, “We both sucked at communication. The feelings have been lingering for years, but neither one of us spoke up or even attempted to make a move. When she had, instead of explaining she didn’t want to move to New York, that she wanted me, she doubled down, expecting me to be able to read her mind and fight for her, and I did fight.
I just fought for her independence instead. ”
Mama chuckles lightly and whispers, “Sounds about right for two best friends falling in love.”
I smile a little. I know she’s thinking of her and Dad, and I must admit, I’ve seen them get closer.
“Have you finally forgiven Dad?” I ask, not taking my eyes off Hudson, and she replies, “Slowly, it’s baby steps at the moment. He needs to prove I’m all he wants.”
I nod a little and mutter, “Who knew you and Dad would end up back together, yet Clara and Glock are done?”
Mama snorts and states, “Not me, that is for sure,” making me grin before she asks, “I’m losing my chance at holding him today, aren’t I?”
I half smile and admit, “Absolutely,” and she sighs with aspiration.
The nurse said only two people can hold him today, for ten minutes each, and I need to hold him.
I’m itching to even if I am petrified that I’ll break him, and Ivy needs another hold.
Dad mentioned she only held him for a few minutes yesterday and looked ready to fall apart when the nurse had to put him back, I just had no idea it was her first and only time holding him and I fucking missed it as well which just pisses me off even more.
I feel like I’ve missed everything and left Ivy alone, even though it wasn’t my fault.
I was kind of in a coma.
“I feel like I’m failing, Mama,” I admit without looking at her.
“You’re not, Jax,” she denies.
I smile a little and mutter, “You have to say that you’re my mother,” and she snorts.
I sigh, “I’ve got my most important memories back where she’s concerned. I know how I feel when I’m with her, even more so now that I remember, but I don’t know how to navigate it all.”
“You’ve just got to take it a day at a time, Jax,” she replies, and I shake my head and look her way.
“I feel like I don’t have time, Mama,” I say, and she frowns. I admit, “I’m petrified I’m going to lose her,” I look at our son, “If we lose him, I’m going to lose her and the thought scares the living shit outta me.”
The door opening gets my attention, but I don’t turn away from my son despite my body humming, knowing it’s my girl.
I may not know how to navigate my memories and all the fucking feelings that seem to be overriding me but I do know one thing. Ivy Miller is my girl, she always has been.
“Do you forgive, Ivy?” Mama asks knowing she’s just walked in, “the past, everything?”
I nod because I do. I had before I was fucking shot, I just knew we had to get everything out on the table so we could move forward now though all that just seems small.
“Does that mean you’re both now going to be together?” Mama asks with hope, and I smirk.
She’s practically jumping in her seat while Ivy has paused near the door, waiting for my answer. We haven’t spoken much since we arrived here yesterday, and our main focus has been this amazing little boy we created.
“I’m never letting her go again. It’s time I fight for her like she fought for me,” I admit before I feel slim arms wrap around my neck from behind. I smile, bringing my hand up to hold Ivy to me as her face presses into my back while I keep my eyes on our son.
Fuck he’s so small and the pictures Ivy showed me yesterday, he was a lot smaller.
He’s a fighter.
“I love you, Jax,” Ivy whispers, and everything in me relaxes. Every worry, all the painful shit vanishes, and I know we’ll be alright, that we’ll get through this.
“I love you, too, cupcake,” I reply, “but we still need to talk.”
Mama tenses as Ivy freezes and stutters, “But I-I, I thought, I mean…”
I smile at her stutter and I add, “You still haven’t explained which fucker I need to kill for tatting my name on your skin, that pleasure should have been mine.”
Mama snorts while Ivy’s lips tilt against my skin. I turn my head slightly, pressing a light kiss to her chin then, I turn back to our son as her arms tighten around me.
“You did fight for me, Jax,” she whispers, ignoring the whole tattoo thing, “Just so you know, you did fight for me. You fought for my independence and my chance to find who I am outside of the club and what people thought, and for that, I love you even more. You are my everything.”
Fuck, this girl…
I press my lips against her arm as the nurse comes over, looks between us, and asks, “Are we ready for some cuddles?”
I freeze, my eyes going to Hudson while Ivy presses a kiss to my shoulder then pulls back and says, “Yes please,” then she looks at me and gives me a small smile and states, “Top off.”
I raise a brow, but I don’t argue. Instead, I slowly stand, my balance slowly getting better, though Mama does stand with me just in case and I take my cut off, and without breaking eye contact with Ivy, I twirl my finger in the air.
She furrows her brows but does as I ask, and as carefully as I can, I glide my cut up Ivy’s arms. She tenses but doesn’t stop me while Mama sniffles.
As soon as I pull the cut up, I mutter, “That’s better,” and she turns to me, her face shocked.
Though I don’t know why, she’s the only girl I’ve had on the back of my bike, so she should have seen this coming.
Chuckling, I peck her nose before I remove my shirt and hand it to her.
Ivy grips it to her chest, placing the fabric to her nose, making my heart race at her actions, and I slowly sit before I watch as the nurse gently picks up my son then carries him to me before slowly placing him on my chest, ensuring his head is tilted to the side to keep the tube right and I suck in a breath at how fragile he looks.
Fuck.
I hear a few sniffles and camera shuttle but I don’t look up, my whole focus on my son and my eyes tear up as I slowly rub along his back, my heart fucking breaking.
I can’t lose him, Ivy can’t lose him.
I look up and lock eyes with my girl, tears trailing her cheeks, and I tilt my head, then nudge it for her to come here. I can’t take her tears, her pain, I need her close, I need her in my arms where she belongs.
Wiping her cheeks she passes my top to Mama and walks over to me looking hot as fuck in my cut I might add and my t-shirt…. Wait, when did she take my shirt?
Fuck, never mind, she looks hot as fuck.
I move my right arm as she takes a seat on the chair's arm, and I wrap my arm around her as we both look down at our son, camera shutter echoing, Mama taking pictures that I know we’ll treasure always.
I gently rub my fingers along Hudson’s back, holding my girl close and a sense of home fills me, and a plan forms to get my girl living in my home with our son. I smirk.
She’s going to fucking hate me but as long as I don’t smoke, it should be fine. Maybe...