Chapter 30
30
AIDAN
“Where’s my mommy? I want my mommy!” Crew’s wailing cries echo down the long hallway outside the family boxes, making me pick up my pace. In a few long strides, I’m able to toss open the door, and the second he spots me, he runs into my arms, knocking me to my ass.
“I’m here, raptor. It’s okay. Everything’s okay now.” I maneuver him so he sits sideways on my lap, his light-up sneakers touching the floor and his face buried in my chest as he sobs. Tears flow freely down my cheeks, and I’m so wrapped up in our shared pain that I startle when a heavy arm drapes around my shoulders.
I turn blurry eyes to my right to see Rhodes’s solemn face inches from mine. The understanding in his gaze gives me the strength I need to pull myself together for my son.
Several ragged breaths are all it takes to wrestle my emotions back under control. I can fall apart tonight when my girl is safely back in our bed. But for now, Crew needs me to be strong for both of us.
“Raptor, do you want to go to see Lyla? ”
His glassy, bloodshot eyes meet mine, snot dribbling down over his lips. Before he can use me as his human tissue, an actual tissue appears in front of our faces courtesy of a sullen Wren. I smile in thanks, cleaning up my boy’s face. His expression is more serious than I think I’ve ever seen as he glares at me indignantly. “She’s not Lyla anymore, Dad. She’s my mommy now. She even said so!”
Before the tears make a repeat appearance, I smooth his hair back from his face. “I know, Crew. I know Lyla is your mommy now. I’m sorry.”
Crew nods, relief softening his features now that I’ve verbally acknowledged Lyla is his mother. I really need to pick up another parenting book. None of the ones I’ve read talked about how to handle the whole stepparent thing. But is that what Lyla is? Crew’s never had a mother, and there’s nothing stopping her from legally adopting him when we get married.
Something to think about later.
“Can we go get her now?”
Somehow, in the midst of one of the scariest days of my life, I’ve gotten everything I ever dreamed of for Crew and me. And I’ll never let anything jeopardize it again. With a smile down at our son , I say the words I only ever dreamed I would get to say to him.
“Yeah, kiddo. Let’s go get your mommy.”
“Excuse me, can you tell me what room Lyla Taylor is in?” The bored-looking receptionist glances up, and recognition flares to life in her eyes. In the blink of an eye her annoyed expression shifts to something flirty, and anger has a red haze tinting the edges of my vision.
“Oh, wow! You’re Aidan Bla ck. Can I just say I’m a huge fan?” Her long red nails touch the top of my hand, but I quickly rip it away, nearly growling at her in anger.
“Lyla Taylor’s room number, please?”
Her flirty grin stays fixed firmly in place as her eyelashes bat frantically, the spider-like lashes thick enough that I worry she’ll take flight if she doesn’t stop.
It’s clear I’m not getting any answers here, so I move to the next computer over, where a kind-looking older woman sits hiding a grin behind her hand.
“Hello, ma’am. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to visit my wife , but I don’t know what room she’s in.” I make sure to emphasize the word ‘wife’ for the other receptionists’ benefit, and it makes the one I’m speaking to chuckle.
“She’s in room 502. Head to the left and take the second elevator up. The barcode on this pass will get you access to the floor.”
I smile at her gratefully. “Thank you.” Turning to Crew, I see him with his thumb in his mouth.
Damn it.
It took me until he was almost four years old to get him to stop sucking his thumb, but I guess the trauma of the day is finally catching up to him, and he’s reverted to it as a coping mechanism.
My mind is already making a list of things I’ll need to do for him, from setting him up with a child psychologist to adjusting our daily routine to allow me some extra time at home to be with him and Lyla.
I follow the kind receptionist’s instructions and when room 502 finally comes into view, I let out a breath of relief hearing Lyla’s bright giggles echoing into the hallway.
My feet stop involuntarily when we reach the threshold of the d oor, and my eyes widen, even as I scramble to grab my phone and hit record while simultaneously holding Crew back with a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait a second, raptor,” I murmur. “Let’s watch Uncle Cope act a fool for Mommy.”
There, in all his scrub-capped, shoe-covered glory, is the Copeland Hawthorne, doing his very best rendition of What Makes You Beautiful by One Direction.
Lyla is reclined back in a large hospital bed, giggling so hard she’s clutching her side and wincing every few breaths. Even with stitches in multiple places on her face and neck, she’s still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
As soon as the last notes of the song ring throughout the room, I stop the recording and begin a slow clap that makes my best friend stop dead where he stands, panting. My shit-eating grin is uncontrollable and doesn’t fade at all, even when he points a long, tattooed finger at me menacingly. “I did this to make your girl happy. I don’t want to hear a goddamn word, Preach.”
I hold my hands up in surrender and try to tame my grin to a more modest level. Crew finally loses his patience and launches himself at Lyla, his tears starting up all over again as he does. Cope is closer than me and catches him mid-air. “Woah there, big guy. You have to be careful, okay? Lyla’s hurtin’ real good right now.”
Crew’s big eyes widen even further, the glossy sheen making them look like true ice chips. “Mommy, you have bruises? My bruises always hurt, too.”
Lyla’s eyes get misty in response to the tremor in his words, and she reaches her arms out to take him from our friend. Her right arm is covered in a cast that ends below her elbow, the wei ght making it dip visibly lower than the left.
Copeland just rolls his eyes, knowing she can’t support his weight sitting down like that, and gingerly places him at her side before coming to stand at mine.
We watch the two of them in their own little world for a moment before he fills me in. “Doc said she has a mild concussion, broken wrist, bruised ribs, and lots of little cuts and bruises. The cuts on her cheek and neck are the worst. She got fifteen stitches in total, four on the cheek and eleven on the neck, and a fuck ton of butterfly bandages. But your girl is a trooper. She didn’t flinch at all when they were stitching her up, and the doctor said he’s never seen a reaction like hers before.”
He sighs, glancing at Lyla with something that looks like a mix of longing and anger. “Doc also said she has a bunch of healed breaks and fractures all over her body, so my best guess is she’s used to dealing with injuries like this. You need to be there for her as much as you can the next few weeks, Aid. I know you likely won’t leave her side, but I think it’s just as important that she see other friends and family, and especially her therapist.”
I nod, already mentally preparing myself for more panic attacks and new triggers we’ll need to watch out for. A throat clears behind us, surprising me.
When I turn around, I come face to face with a suspiciously familiar-looking guy with dark auburn hair poorly hidden under a ball cap and huge dark sunglasses.
My brow raises in question as Cope moves so we’re shoulder to shoulder and blocking the door. The guy smirks and looks around the empty hallway before removing what’s obviously a poor excuse for a disguise, and then I’m sta ring down one of the biggest movie stars in the world.
Also, you know, my girlfriend’s father.
I literally know nothing about this man other than he neglected his only child her entire life and then introduced her to the man who almost killed her, so I keep my face stern and cross my arms over my chest, widening my stance to completely block the door.
One eye keeps Colin locked in my periphery while I turn my face to see my girl cuddling our boy. I feel my expression softening but damn it, I can’t help it.
“Ly?”
She looks up with a radiant smile on her pretty face. “Yeah, Aid?”
Clearing my throat awkwardly, I nod my head at the door. “Your dad is here.”
She chokes on air, launching herself into a coughing fit. “I’m sorry, did you just say my dad is here? Colin Kingsley? In this hospital?”
I nod. “Want me to tell him to fuck off?”
Lyla snorts. “Umm… no. It’s fine. You can let him in. Will you guys stay, though?”
My smile is wide. “Always, gorgeous.” I turn back to her father and slap the meanest scowl I can muster on my face. “If you’re here to gaslight my girl into going home with you and back to those Pennington fuckers, or if you hurt her in any way, I will personally ruin your face so thoroughly you’ll never act again. Are we clear?”
The smirk is absent from his face, replaced with a serious look to match my own. “Crystal.”
Copeland stops him with a hand on his surprisingly muscular chest. “You hurt her, and whatever my friend here does to you, I’ll make it look like a day at fucking Dollywood. Are we clear?”
At the threat, Colin visibly gulps, causing the side of Cope’s mouth to twitch into an almost-grin. “Understood.”
We move aside to let him into the room, and I know the second he lays eyes on my girl because he lets out a choked gasp. “Lyla…”
Cope and I move to hover on one side of the room, choosing to take a seat on the small couch and drop the intimidation act for now. I’m fairly confident he isn’t going to risk fucking things up this time, but only time will tell.
“Honey, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I didn’t know what was going on.”
She shrugs, playing with Crew’s hair. I’ve noticed playing with hair is a nervous tick of hers. Mine, Crew’s, or her own. It doesn’t seem to matter either way as long as she has someone’s hair to twirl to calm the anxiety. “I didn’t tell you. And you weren’t around, so I don’t see how you could have known.”
The guy looks like she just shot an arrow straight at his chest, wincing like the quiet words are a physical blow. “I know, and I’ve never been more ashamed than I am right now. I’m sorry, Lyla. So dam—” He glances at Crew. “Darn sorry. I know my promises mean less than nothing to you, but I swear from now on, I’m going to do my best to be an active part of your life, in whatever way you’ll let me be.”
“What about your deal with Mike?”
Colin scoffs, running a hand through his auburn hair. His hair color is what I imagine Lyla’s should look like, with the red undertones that peek through the brown she has now, but I’v e never really asked her if she colors her hair. Knowing she’s been on the run, it would make sense.
“The entire Pennington family can fuck off to some remote island in the middle of the goddamn ocean for all I care. The minute you called me, I called Pennington Corp and told them to shove their deal up their collective shady ass.”
Lyla snorts, still playing with Crew’s hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my boy this quiet for this long, but he finally breaks the awkward silence with a whispered question that might make things even more awkward, if possible. “Mommy, who’s that man? Is he a bad man, too?”
Colin’s jaw drops as he stares at Crew with a look of confusion and awe. “Mommy?”
I expect her to shy away from the question or change topics, but she smiles proudly down at our son and speaks in a clear, firm voice. “This is Crew, and that’s Aidan.” She points at me and kisses the top of Crew’s head. “Crew is Aidan’s son biologically, but mine in every way that matters, and I plan on adopting him as soon as I can. So, I guess… you have a grandson.”
His eyes glisten under the harsh hospital lights as he slowly moves toward the bed, crouching beside Lyla. He’s next to his daughter, but his gaze is firmly fixated on our son. Reaching a hand out slowly, he introduces himself. “Hi Crew, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lyla’s dad, Colin.”
Crew stares at his hand skeptically, glancing nervously at Lyla. “He’s not a bad man, Crew-bug. I promise.”
He nods before slowly reaching out to take Colin’s hand. “If Lyly is my mommy, does that mean you’re my grandpa now? ”
Colin looks at his daughter with wide eyes, but hers are solely focused on me. I smile softly at her, trying to convey with my eyes that I trust her judgment and will go along with whatever she thinks is best. I know she wouldn’t risk Crew, so I’m sure she’s going to give her dad a thorough ass-chewing about all of this as soon as she’s feeling up to it.
“If he wants to be,” she says pointedly. The words are for Crew, but she aims them at her father.
His face lights up, reminding me so much of Lyla. It’s easy to see where she gets her mega-watt smile from. “I’ve always wanted to be a grandpa.”
The next several hours are filled with talking, laughter, and some tears as the father-daughter duo catch up and Crew asks endless questions about his new grandfather. But then we’re discharged, and Colin and Copeland leave so we can head home.
After tucking Crew into the living room fort bed with us, I’m finally alone with my sleeping son and the love of my life.
For the first time in months, I feel completely at peace. I’m not worried about protecting Lyla from some unknown threat or waiting for the day she calls things off because she’s scared. I’m breathing without the weight of the world on my shoulders for the first time in my life, and it’s so freeing.
Lyla nuzzles further into my chest, her sweet cherry-vanilla perfume filling my nose and easing any residual fear clinging to my soul. “Aidan?” she murmurs.
“Yes, angel?”
Her glassy eyes meet mine, brimming with hope. “Is it really over?”
My chest clenches for my sweet girl who’s been through so much. P ulling her even closer, I kiss the top of her head. “It’s really over, baby.”
She sighs, staring up at me with love written all over her gorgeous face. “What do we do now?”
My smile is soft but so very real. “Now we start the rest of our lives together. As a family. ”
In baseball, when the catcher calls for a specific pitch, but their pitcher does something totally different, we call it getting Crossed Up. Lyla coming into our lives feels kind of like that. I called the play only for the universe to throw me a pitch I never could have expected, and somehow, it worked out to be everything I barely dared to dream I could have.
Lying here with my girl and our son, I know getting crossed up was the best thing that’s ever happened to us. And if I had to do it all over again?
I wouldn’t change a single damn pitch.