Chapter twenty-four
Walker Private Maternity Clinic, Westminster
Harrison
Her big brown eyes blink back into mine like a stunned owl. She is looking at me as if I’m a figment of her imagination. She searches my face, then lifts her free hand and touches my cheek. I close my eyes under her touch. Hell, it feels good to have her fingers on my skin.
“You’re really here,” she whispers under her breath. I lean in and kiss her again.
“Yes, I am, and you’re coming with me.” My focus moves to the midwife. “Thank you for all your help, Nurse Saffron.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Waite,” she replies. “I’m delighted to be of service after what you did for my brother. Now, you’ll need to move quickly so they don’t realize Violet has gone.”
“Harry, what’s going on?”
“I’ll explain later. We need to go. There is a car out back. We will slip out the rear gate. Your mother will give us ten minutes before sounding the alarm.”
“Where is she?”
“Probably at the nurse’s station having a cup of tea,” I tell her with a grin. “Come on, I’ll tell you everything later. We need to go, Violet.”
“Are you here by yourself?” she continues as the nurse wipes the gel from her belly. She climbs off the bed then smooths down her dress.
“Do you honestly think I would be stupid enough to come here on my own?”
“No, but…” She trails off then shrugs her shoulders. “After last time, why would your friends want to help?”
“Because they care. Damon, Hunter, and Marshall are all in a car which will follow us. Russell and Connor are outside the front gates in a second vehicle. We are leaving via the back entrance, but I would imagine your father has other men nearby. I very much doubt he has only sent two with you.”
I link my fingers through hers, pulling her beside me.
My other hand lifts to her chin, then I run my thumb across her lower lip.
She gazes at me; I could get lost in her eyes.
It’s been a risk since I was a sixteen-year-old boy.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I whisper. “We need to go now so I can keep you.”
“I’ll check if the coast is clear,” Nurse Saffron says.
She smiles broadly at us, then disappears out of the door.
I lead Violet toward it, and we stand in the ultrasound suite awaiting the nurse’s return.
Minutes later, the door cracks open. “Okay, your mother is making her way to the waiting room now. Go.”
We run. I pull her along with me, and we burst through a fire exit at the back of the building.
My black Ferrari sits waiting, a larger, sleek car behind it.
I pull open the passenger door and guide her inside.
As she is doing up her seatbelt, I climb in beside her.
The engine is already purring beneath us.
I hit the accelerator, and we fly out through the back gate into the residential London streets, the second car hot on our tail.
My telephone starts to ring. I press the accept call button on the steering wheel and Connor speaks. “They know she’s missing,” he says. “The two security guards have run down the front steps with my mother screaming behind them. She’s playing her part well.”
“She’s fooled them all,” I agree.
“My mother is involved in all of this?” Violet says, the tone evidence of her shock.
“It was her idea. Between your mother and Connor, we were able to come up with a plan to get you out.” I take her hand in mine, resting it on my thigh.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“The Level for now, but we may need to change plans. At least it’s secure. Hunter has men stationed around and throughout the building.” She nods but doesn’t look at me. Before I can speak, Connor does.
“We have company. Put your foot down.”
I flex my foot, pushing the pedal further toward the floor. Violet’s grip tightens on my fingers. A look in the mirror tells me three vehicles are traveling behind the boys, all large dark jeeps with matching windows. Another one pulls in front of us. Violet squeaks.
“That’s Russell and Connor,” I tell her. I try to remove my hand from hers, but she tightens her grip. “I could do with having both hands on the wheel.” Her cheeks flush as she releases me and places her palms in her lap.
The car in front increases in speed then swerves around a taxi which blares its horn. I follow. The speedometer rises again, now well over the limit. Traffic is heavy in the city center as usual, but it’s moving. We weave in and out, a convoy of black vehicles all headed to the same destination.
“We’re five miles out from The Level,” Russell barks.
I don’t see the black van; it appears from a side street and catches the back of my car.
We spin, out of control across the lanes.
Another dark vehicle hits the front. Violet screams, then goes silent.
My head crashes against the window—I hear the sound of smashing glass and crumpled metal.
The accident is over within seconds but feels as if it is lived in slow motion.
The world around me swirls, cars, people, and buildings disappearing into a haze.
We come to an abrupt stop next to a crash barrier.
“Waite, can you hear me?” Connor calls, trying to rip open my door. I glance over to Violet. She’s lying in the passenger seat, her forehead against the window. Blood trickles from her hairline down her face. I’m aware of men in suits surrounding the car.
“Get them away,” I snarl at Connor as I try to push myself up to sit straighter.
My car is twisted around me, but I don’t feel injured.
Russell appears at Violet’s side; her door opens, surprising him.
He stumbles backward. There is the sound of sirens, and the suits disperse.
I think I see Hunter holding something to one of the men’s backs—his gun no doubt.
Russell crouches down beside his sister, supporting her head on his shoulder. “Is she breathing?” I ask him, frantic as my panic rises.
“I think so,” he responds. The look he gives me is one of terror. “But her leg looks bad. There’s a lot of blood.”
“Excuse me,” a deep voice says from behind him. “Please let me in to see the patient. If you could move back, please.”
“Who are you?” Russell snaps.
“I’m a doctor,” he replies. “My name is Dr. Ben Jones. If you would kindly move to the side so I can assess the lady’s injuries.” As Russell moves away, a man comes into view. He seems to be in his late forties with dark hair and bright blue eyes. He focuses on me. “What’s her name?”
“Violet,” I answer. He nods and goes to speak. “She’s pregnant,” I add. His eyes move to her stomach, the soft pink giving way to the curves.
“How far along?”
“Um….” I stammer and his brow creases in confusion. “Five months or so.”
“Okay,” he says, speaking to her as if she’s awake. “Violet, my name is Dr. Jones. You’re safe. You’ve been in a car crash outside Guy’s Hospital. The emergency services are on their way. I will be taking care of you.” He checks her pulse and heartbeat as he speaks.
“Will she be all right? And the baby?”
“Right now,” he says, “I don’t know. But I’ll do everything I can.”
***
Violet
The regular beep becomes annoying. It’s incessant, droning on and on as I try to sleep.
“Would someone shut that bloody noise up,” I mutter, easing my eyes open.
The room is bright, and I immediately snap them shut again.
My head hurts—actually, everything hurts.
I wiggle my fingers and toes; they flex, slowly.
After turning to the side, I’m met with a head of dark hair. He’s snoring softly as he sits on a chair bent over with his forehead on my pillow. The door opening makes me glance up. Samantha walks in and smiles broadly.
“You’re awake,” she says in a dramatic whisper.
“What happened?” I ask, my brow creasing as I think. “Was there an accident?”
“Do you not remember? Harrison was driving you to The Level. Some of your father’s men were following you, and one ran into the car deliberately. Then another one hit you for good measure.”
She walks around to the side of the bed without Harrison and takes my hand.
“If you’re going to have a crash, outside a hospital is a good place to do it.”
She presses the call nurse button beside her. “We better tell them you’re awake.”
“Do you know if my baby is okay?” I ask her and she smiles.
“Yes, Violet. Your baby is fine. They did an ultrasound as soon as you were brought in. Wait till you see the doctor who treated you. Fuck, he’s hot. Old but hot.” I laugh then wince, and Harry stirs.
“Do you have to discuss how hot the doctor was?” he mutters.
“He was though,” Samantha argues. “Trust Violet to end up in a crash and get saved by him.” She fans herself with a hand, and I giggle again. Harry sits up as the door opens, and a tall, dark-haired man walks in. If this is the doctor, I agree with her.
“It’s good to see you awake, Violet. How are you feeling?” he says, walking over and picking up a clipboard hanging on the end of my bed. He flicks through the pages.
“Okay, I think.”
“I’m Dr. Jones. It was me who treated you at the scene. You’ve been lucky. No serious injuries or broken bones. A few scratches where the window smashed, but nothing required stitching. You hit your head hard,
so I’d like to keep you here to monitor your progress for a while to ensure there are no lasting symptoms of concussion and safeguard your baby as well.”
I try to focus on him—he’s slightly fuzzy.
Once I’ve closed my eyes and reopened them, he sharpens.
“Everything is looking good at the moment,” he adds reassuringly.
“What day is it?” I ask.
“It’s Saturday,” he replies. “Ten in the morning, to be exact.”
“And you work here?” It’s a stupid question, but seemed sensible before it left my lips.
“I do, but in the oncology ward. I was off duty when the accident happened, but I like to see my patients through their treatment so I said I would oversee your case. I hope that is all right?”
“Yes, of course,” I respond, then look at Harrison who is watching me. “Are you all right?”
He smiles then leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I am now.” He turns to the doctor. “Thank you for everything. For coming to the scene of the crash and for treating Violet. I can’t thank you enough.”