Chapter 12
ALESSANDRA
Angelina cradles Benjamin in her arms, rocking him as she moves around Pope’s living room. “And aren’t you just the happiest and most handsome baby ever?”
He stares up at her with wide blue eyes, and she tilts him so I can see better.
“Did you see that?” She grins. “He smiled at me!”
I scoff and take a sip of my sparkling water before returning the glass to the end table next to the couch. “He did not. He’s barely six weeks old.”
Her brow furrows, and she props her free hand on her hip defiantly. “So? I’m telling you, he smiled at me. I’m definitely his favorite aunt.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn on the couch to face the kitchen where Mom and Aunt Skye are working on dinner with Dad “supervising” since neither of them would ever let him try to help, given how badly it’s gone in the past. “Mom, how old are babies when they start smiling? Like three months old, at least, right?”
Mom narrows her eyes on us, scoping out the situation. “Actually, you smiled right around Benjamin’s age, maybe a little younger even.”
“Ha!” Ang grins, pointing at Mom. “Did you hear that? You’re just jealous he loves me so much that I got his first smile.”
I wave a hand at her. “Yeah, whatever. Still don’t believe you.”
If anyone is going to get that first smile, it will either be me or Pope.
Choosing to ignore our little tiff, Mom sighs and returns to the kitchen while Ang wanders over to the couch and plops down next to me, still cooing and fawning over her nephew.
For the first time in what feels like years, a genuine smile pulls at my lips, watching her with him. After she helped with all of us growing up, it’s no surprise how amazing she is with babies.
A real natural.
Nothing like me.
Even after reading all the “what to expect” type books during my pregnancy and to eat up some of my endless free time while being locked away for a month and a half, I still feel like I know exactly zip about actually being a mother. Most of the time, I’m just trying to get through the day, keeping him fed, changed, and entertained without melting down in front of him.
“You look good with him.”
Ang lifts her head and smiles. “So do you. You’re doing a really great job under what are clearly not ideal circumstances.”
Benjamin grabs a strand of Ang’s dark hair that dangles within his reach, his tiny fingers wrapping around it quickly and tugging.
“Ouch…” Ang carefully uncurls his fingers and slips one of hers in place of the hair to give him something to hold on to. “We don’t want to pull on anyone’s hair. That hurts. Ouch.”
She would be such an incredible mother, and Jude would be an amazing dad. Each time he comes to see Benjamin, watching him hold him, the awe and love in his eyes always makes my heart clench, wanting that for my best friend so much.
“Have you and Jude talked about it?”
Ang glances at me, still shaking her hand, while Benjamin pulls her finger toward his mouth. “About what?”
“Having kids of your own?”
Her shoulders stiffen slightly, and she shifts on the couch like she’s uncomfortable with the question. Having your best friend and older sister fall in love makes for some seriously awkward moments and conversations. If she were with anyone else, she probably wouldn’t have any issue with discussing this with me. When we still lived together, before she and Jude finally admitted their feelings for each other, she used to talk about wanting to get married and have a family, but she hasn’t said a word about it since I got pregnant.
She keeps looking down at Benjamin, laid out on her legs, and she grabs one of his toys off the cushion beside her and frees her hand so she can entertain him with that.
Maybe she won’t answer.
Pretend I never asked…
Finally, she lifts her head and gives me a sad smile. “I don’t think kids are really in the cards for Jude and me.”
I sit up straighter, shifting closer to her. “What? Why not?”
My mind goes to the abuse Jude suffered during his childhood and all the potential physical issues that could cause when it comes to having children. But Jude has never kept anything from me, and if there were some medical issue preventing him from getting Ang pregnant, it’s definitely something I don’t think he would hold back. Especially not when Nora has bent over backward to get him a great therapist and anything else he needs.
Ang releases a little sigh and waves her free hand over herself. “I’m pushing forty, and Jude’s agoraphobia is still a major issue for him. Even if I managed to get pregnant, I’d be at high risk for any number of things due to my age, and he likely wouldn’t be able to leave to come to appointments with me. Once we had the baby, I don’t know how he would deal with leaving the house to take him places. It just seems…undoable right now.”
Undoable right now.
I know that feeling all too well.
Ever since that night Pope joined me in the shower weeks ago, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his words. “I know what you want, Allie, and I can’t give it to you…”
He didn’t just mean sex.
That much was abundantly clear.
And given the way he’s avoided me since—putting as much space and as many people between us as possible when we’re here together, I can tell he meant every word. Regardless of the two earth-shattering orgasms he gave me that I needed to help break me from that vicious cycle of panic and pain that night, there can’t be anything else for us.
Not now.
Not ever.
Pope lives and breathes for his job, for the career he pushed himself so hard to achieve, and if it weren’t for my stupid heart, he never would have left it temporarily to care for Benjamin and me. I would have gone somewhere with Saint or Gabe or Bishop, someone who could undoubtedly keep us safe if there weren’t any medical concerns.
He’ll go right back to it soon. The long hours and lack of free time. The exhaustion and rush of the ER he loves so much.
He’s married to that job.
Which doesn’t leave any room for him to open his life to a baby and me.
I may have to accept that Pope and I can’t happen, but it doesn’t have to be that way for Jude and Angelina. I don’t believe that for a moment.
“You’re only thirty-eight, Ang. Women have babies well into their forties these days. And Jude is doing better. God, so much better than where he was a year ago. Yes, it’s going to take time—‘baby steps’ with him—but having a reason to leave that’s as important as you pregnant with his child or taking his kid to the park will only give him more incentive to work harder at making his way through his issues.”
I know Jude better than anyone, and he will fight to have that with her.
She gives me a sad smile, her eyes filling with tears. “I hope you’re right, but please, don’t say anything to him about this, okay? I don’t want him to feel like I’m pressuring him to—”
“He would never think that.”
Jude worships the ground Angelina walks on, and he knows her to her core and that she would never push him to do anything he isn’t ready for. Just like I won’t push Pope for something he clearly doesn’t want.
He may still be attracted to me—the other night proved that—but I am not what he wants anymore.
Not what he needs.
I have to focus on Benjamin and our lives after we leave here, not on what I wish would happen. That will only be setting myself up for further disappointment and heartache.
“Hey, girls…” Dad appears from the kitchen and approaches the couch, resting his hands on the back. “Dinner is almost ready. Would either of you like anything else besides water to drink?”
Ang shakes her head, and Benjamin scrunches up his face and lets out a little whimper. She lifts him to her chest and rocks him, rubbing his back gently.
“Not for me.” I climb from the couch and hold out my hands to her, scooping up Benjamin. “But I think I need to feed him before we eat, or we’ll never get through the meal.”
Dad grins at me, his eyes growing misty.
Here come the waterworks.
I swear I’ve seen him cry more since his grandson was born than I did in the full twenty-five years of my life before that. Landon McCabe doesn’t cry easily, but this situation seems to have everyone’s emotions heightened.
The pure joy Benjamin has brought everyone.
The danger.
The unknown.
Dad rounds the couch and pulls me into a hug, dropping a kiss to the top of my head the way he always used to when I was a child. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo. You’re handling all this far better than I ever could…” He pulls back and gives me a smile, his eyes filled with tears. “It won’t be like this forever—”
“Landon?” Mom’s voice carries through the high ceilings from the kitchen.
He winces slightly. “That’s my cue to get back to the kitchen. I was just supposed to round up your drink orders and return promptly. Go do your mom thing and dinner will be waiting when you’re done.”
Ang pops off the couch and walks with him toward the kitchen, and I turn down the hallway leading back to the bedrooms.
Seventeen days…
I’ve been here, captive in Pope’s condo, for over two damn weeks. So long that it almost, sort of, has started to feel less like a prison and more like home. It would almost feel like we were a family—if Pope wasn’t avoiding me, there weren’t armed guards at the desk in the front lobby, and I wasn’t terrified to leave because Benjamin and I might get snatched off the street.
The longer this goes on, the harder it gets to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel.
The more impossible it becomes to believe there ever will be an end.
I reach the open door to the room I share with Benjamin, but my gaze stays farther down the hall to the cracked door to Pope’s room. In all the time he’s lived here, I never visited before he brought me here after we returned from the “cabin” in the woods.
It was part of my self-preservation tactic.
I stayed as far away from Pope and anything having to do with him as possible—always making excuses not to come when he first moved and had his housewarming or for one of his football viewing parties on a free Sunday when he didn’t need to be at the hospital.
But now I’m drawn toward the door the same way I always was to him. With him gone at his meeting at the hospital with Nora and the head of the residency program, the opportunity to see his space, where he lays his head at night, is too strong a temptation to pass up.
Shifting Benjamin in my arms, I hum lightly, attempting to keep him from fussing for a few moments longer while I go to the one place I probably shouldn’t.
I nudge the door the rest of the way open and step inside. His scent permeates the air—a combination of the soap he uses and something deeply masculine that always clings to him.
Memories of being pressed against him in the shower invade my mind, and I inhale deeply as I move toward his king-sized bed centered in the room—made, of course, unlike mine with the sheets strewn all over haphazardly since I left it this morning.
The black duvet spread out smoothly.
Tucked in under the pillows.
Like at some luxurious resort.
So neat and meticulous.
Just like the man who did it.
Pope has always been so in control—of his life, his future, his dreams. He knew his goals and made them happen. He had everything perfectly lined up and planned down to the most minute detail.
And his room proves he still lives his life that way.
Which is why I can’t be a part of it once this is over.
The chaotic, hot mess I’ve become and the danger and turmoil I’ve brought into all the Hawke lives but especially his, are the polar opposite of what a man like Pope needs.
He deserves so much better.
Someone who matches his drive, shares the dreams he has for his future, and fits into the life he’s already created.
My knees wobble slightly at that thought, and I lower myself onto his bed, scooting back until my shoulders hit the black leather headboard. I look down at Benjamin, now completely pissed it’s taken this long to get to his dinner.
“Here we go, buddy.”
I adjust my shirt and bra to give him access, and he latches on, snuggling tightly against me, the feel of him in my arms reminding me that I have always planned a future without Pope in it.
Ever since that day he broke me, I tried to imagine and find one that did not feature Dr. Clarke. And when I found out I was pregnant, it became a life with the baby and me, the two of us against the world.
But after the time we’ve spent together, what he told me about what happened all those years ago, and what went down—literally—in the shower the other night, I don’t know how I can live without him.
I’ve let down my guard.
No, he broke it down.
With his gentle hands. Reassuring words. Soft touches.
The way he cares for me and for Benjamin…
Leaving this place, leaving him, to walk out into a completely uncertain future might just kill me if Dan doesn’t to get to his son.
* * *
POPE
Dr. Northrup leans backin his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. As the head of the entire residency program at UMC, he has the ability to make or break people’s careers—and cause young doctors to wither under his wise gaze. Which has been locked on me for the last ten minutes that I’ve sat across from him in his office.
If I hadn’t grown up around the Hawkes, I might be more susceptible to it, but with the number of strong, intimidating men in the family, his attempt to unnerve me doesn’t do anything.
I stand my ground—or sit, as it may be—waiting for him to ask the ultimate question. The reason I’m here today. Deciding my fate—at least where my job is concerned.
One I hope I still have.
Dr. Northrup finally lets his gaze drift next to me, where Aunt Nora sits in the other chair, facing his desk, here as the director of my specific specialty, emergency medicine, and my direct boss. But he’s well aware of our personal connection, too.
Everyone in the hospital is.
And that makes her being a part of the decision-making when it comes to my future at UMC all the more complicated.
Which is why we’ve danced around the real topic with pleasantries and chatted about the hurricane recovery instead of diving right in directly.
The longer we sit here, the more my mind drifts back to where I want to be—my place.
I used to long to come here, to work another shift, to feel that adrenaline rush that only saving lives can bring, but now I can’t stop the anxiety that being away from Benjamin and Allie is bringing.
Let’s get down to it already…
Northrup finally releases a sigh and leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk. “Dr. Clarke, you know how much we value you here. You’ve done amazing work in your time as a resident, and I’m not just saying that because Dr. Hawke’s sitting here and she’s the one who’s essentially trained you.”
She fights a grin, attempting to maintain her professional demeanor when the man she’s worked with for almost thirty years knows her far too well.
“When you first came to me about taking this leave”—he offers a slight shrug—“I understood it. I’ve known the Hawkes for decades, and they have become an integral part of the hospital family. Hell, the family charity has donated several wings as we’ve expanded. And given your close connection to them and what happened to Miss McCabe during the hurricane, I empathized with why you felt you needed to take leave.”
There’s a “but” coming.
We all know it, and silence hangs between the three of us for a moment before he presses his lips together firmly, the friendly demeanor shifting slightly, like it’s time to get down to business and what he really wants to say.
“But it’s been six weeks, Dr. Clarke, and I can’t hold your spot indefinitely. There’s no question about your work ethic or the quality of it. If there were, I’m sure Dr. Hawke would have informed me, no matter how difficult it might make things at family dinners.”
This time, I can’t fight a grin.
He has a sense of humor, which is good, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to go easy on me about this or anything else.
“That leaves me in a difficult position because we do need you here. And while we’ve been able to rearrange the schedules and cover for you during your absence, if we go on any longer, I’m going to have to find a permanent replacement.”
Permanent replacement.
Those words echo in my head and make me wince. Not just because it means potentially losing my dream job and the opportunity I’ve worked my entire life for and given up everything in order to achieve. But because that’s exactly what Allie’s been doing for all these years.
She’s been searching for a permanent replacement, looking for someone to become what I once was for her. I didn’t see it clearly for a long time, but the last few weeks have proven to me the explanation for her spiral after our breakup.
We may have been young and dumb, without any real idea of what the world was like outside of our small, secure bubble, but we experienced something real. If she’s anything like me, she’s compared every man she’s ever met to me the same way I’ve constantly compared other women to her and found them lacking.
And her most recent choice has brought down this rainstorm of problems.
Nora turns to me. “Pope…” She reaches over and places her hand on top of mine, patting it gently. “I know how difficult this is for you because things are so up in the air still with Alessandra.”
Of course, Dr. Northrup doesn’t know about Roselli or the fact that he might be willing to hurt her to get to their baby, so Nora has to choose her words carefully.
“But”—she releases a heavy sigh—“I agree with Dr. Northrup that it’s time for you to return to work. Allie’s cardiomyopathy seems to have stabilized. She hasn’t been having shortness of breath, water retention, or any of the other outward physical symptoms recently, and all her scans have remained unchanged, showing, if anything, slight improvement. The medications seem to be working. There’s no reason to believe that she’s going to have any additional episodes, and things are looking great for, hopefully, a full recovery. As much as it might hurt you to hear this, she doesn’t need you there every day watching over her like, well, a hawk.”
I groan at her play on words, and she chuckles.
“Come on, that was a good one.”
It was, but I’ll never admit it.
She slaps my hand playfully. “Skye is retired now. She doesn’t have any obligations that will keep her from going over there when you’re on shift. I can go on my days off because you know I would love to spend as much time as possible with that adorable baby.”
Benjamin’s face flashes in my head, drawing my lips up into a grin. The sweetest, most perfect, innocent baby who’s so goddamn lucky to have so many people who love him and are willing to do anything to protect him and his mother.
Dr. Northrup nods. “Dr. Hawke is correct. I’ve spoken with Dr. Boggs about Alessandra’s scans, and things do seem stable. And as you know, I worked with Skye many years ago in the ER when she was still a practicing nurse. She’s quite skilled, should your friend need anything.”
My “friend”...
Fuck.
Why does that word tighten my chest so much?
It feels like I’m the one with the heart problem the way it seems to stutter every time I see her, the way my breathing seems to get shallow, and my ribs feel like they’re caving in anytime I think about something bad happening to her.
Dr. Northrup looks to Nora, clearing his throat. “I hate to do this to you, Pope, but I need a decision today.”
A decision that’s going to determine my entire future.
That could make or break my career.
It’s what I should be concerned about, yet the idea of not being there with her after six weeks, of having to get up and come into the hospital to concentrate on patients while also ensuring that Allie is safe, makes my mouth go dry.
I swallow through it and try to gather my thoughts. “I appreciate the position I’ve put you in, Dr. Northrup.” I look at the woman who has always been my mentor and staunchest supporter. “And Nora, it’s your ER and you’ve been short-staffed because of me.”
Her gaze softens, the affection that’s always been there bleeding through even heavier now. “Don’t ever apologize to me for that, Pope. If I could’ve taken off and done the same thing for her, I would have. But you were the far better choice.”
She’s right—the hospital would’ve fallen apart without her here, especially after the storm. Of anyone, Nora is the person in the best position to understand my situation. My love of this job. How hard I’ve worked. And my concern over Allie. Plus, she’s brilliant…and she’s telling me it’s time to come back.
Yet acid churns in my stomach, climbing my throat and burning me in a way that screams it’s wrong.
“I don’t know if I’m comfortable leaving her just yet.” I somehow manage to get the words out without my voice wavering. “I know you said you need a decision tonight, but can I have until Monday?”
Dr. Northrup shares a look with Nora, and she gives him a sharp nod.
“Dr. Hawke has agreed, but no later than Monday morning, Dr. Clarke.”
“I understand.”
He climbs to his feet, and Nora and I do the same. As he rounds his desk to shake my hand, I think about the day I stood on the stage and accepted my diploma, graduating from medical school after busting my ass and putting all my focus into achieving that success.
This was everything I dreamed of.
It still is.
The job that keeps me on my toes and my heart racing, that gives me a reason to get up every morning and allows me to go to sleep every night exhausted but happy, knowing I’ve saved so many lives and helped so many people. And now, I’m seriously considering giving it all up to help one…and a half.
Dr. Northrup ushers Nora and me out of his office, and as the door clicks shut behind us, Nora swoops up beside me, looping her arm through mine, her head barely coming to my bicep.
She looks up at me. “Are you all right? Really?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know, Pope.” She shakes her head. “You’re not acting like the kid I helped prep for his medical school exams. The one who always wanted to come with me on Take-Your-Son-to-Work Day instead of with your dad or your mom.”
I chuckle. “That’s because I was at their offices almost every day anyway.”
She smirks and elbows me. “Don’t downplay your love for this job, Pope.”
A wise warning I should take to heart, but it’s too hard to hold it there tightly when it’s already filled with so many confusing things.
We make our way down the hallway and pause at the top of the steps that will lead down to the back door and out to the employee parking lot.
Nora motions in the opposite direction. “I’m going to stop in my office and take care of a few things before I head home. You’re going back to your place?”
I nod and push open the stairwell door.
Her small hand tightens around my arm, stopping me. “Hey, Pope?” She glances up and down the hallway before she focuses back on me. “Anyone can see how much you care about Allie and Benjamin. And believe me, we all appreciate everything you’ve done for them. But there are plenty of people in this family who can protect them, who can watch over them, who can do exactly what you are doing for them…and they won’t lose their jobs. Unless there’s some other reason that’s keeping you from leaving her?”
The question hangs in the air like a 15,000-pound elephant waiting to crush me under it.
And she already knows the answer as well as I do.
But I’ll never say it, not when it can’t actually mean anything.
“I’ll take it under advisement, Nora. See you later.”
I pull out of her loose hold and jog down the steps, desperate for the clean, fresh air outside after sitting in Northrup’s stuffy office for so long.
Or maybe it’s the weight of the decision sitting on my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
I push out the back exit and suck in a long, deep breath, the smell of oncoming rain filling my nose.
It doesn’t help as much as I had hoped, and I cut across the parking lot toward my car. Just as I reach it, tires squeal behind me, and I turn to find two dark SUVs pulling up and blocking my car in my spot.
Shit.
They aren’t ours.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and the early evening seems to get unnaturally still and silent.
What I wouldn’t give to have a gun on me right now, but we aren’t allowed to carry them into the hospital, and it doesn’t do me much good in my fucking glove compartment.
I retreat a step, moving toward the passenger side, where I might stand a chance of getting to my only weapon, but the back door of one of the SUVs flies open and someone steps out.
Fucking hell.
Daniele Satriano approaches—not the amiable, friendly, almost goofy musician who used to play at The Grind. This one—dressed in a tailored suit similar to the one his father used to wear, his hair slicked back, eyes ice cold—means business.
He stops a few feet from me, a sinister smile tilting his lips. “Dr. Clarke, I think it’s time you and I had a little private chat.”