Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Robert
Three days in this place and the smell hasn’t rubbed off on me yet.
I perch near the far end of the corridor with my phone pressed against my ear, one hand braced against my hip while I stare through the glass window overlooking the parking lot below.
“Is she still asleep?” Enzo asks through the line.
“For now.” I nod as if he can see me.
“And the kid?”
“Same.” My jaw ticks automatically.
“I’m sorry.” He offers.
I nod again, saying nothing to that.
“About Varela,” Enzo starts, his tone shifting to business.
“Him?” Irritation scrapes across my nerves. “What about him?”
“He’s stalling again.”
“Again?” I bite out, because the last thing I need is work troubles.
The bastard owns three clubs, two casinos, and somehow still manages to cry poverty every time repayment comes up.
I rub a hand slowly across my jaw.
“How much does he still owe?”
“Seven point four.”
Million.
Neither of us bothers saying it out loud anymore.
“What excuse this time?” I ask flatly.
“Well.” Enzo exhales something halfway between amusement and disbelief. “You’ll love this one.”
“I doubt that.”
“He says business has been unstable since the investigation in Madrid.”
“He launders through dancers and champagne, what instability?”
“That’s what I said.” Enzo retorts, almost slightly as irritated as I am. “Then he tried offering assets.”
“Which assets?” My brows pull together, because the bastard is too greedy to let go of anything material possession.
“His stepdaughters.”
I go completely still, blood rushing to my ears.
“He says one’s twenty-two, the other’s twenty-four. Apparently, they’re ‘beautiful girls’ and willing to work in one of the clubs until the debt clears.” Enzo continues before I can answer.
Disgust crawls up my throat, .
“Work how?” I ask coldly even though I already know.
“He mentioned hostessing first.”
“Meaning?”
“Mistress arrangement if necessary.” He drags the words out like he can tell I’m about to explode.
“Tell Varela if he offers women for debt repayment again, I’ll bankrupt him, then bury him alive.”
“Knew you’d hate it.” Enzo snorts softly.
“I don’t traffic women.”
“No shit.”
My gaze drifts instinctively toward Christine’s closed room, my attention pulling back to priority.
It’s been fucking days and Blue still hasn’t opened her eyes.
Three days with every second biting off my skin like termites eating wood.
“Anything on the number?” I ask suddenly.
“No.” Enzo delivers the same bad news he’s been delivering for days.
And the answer stings every single time.
“We traced the burners as far as we could,” he continues. “It’s been dead ends. Rotating SIMs. Ghost routes. Whoever’s doing this knows what they’re doing.”
I stare harder through the window, my free hand balling into a fist.
“We’ll find them,” Enzo soothes.
“We need to.”
“No.” His voice stiffens slightly. “You need to sleep.”
“That’s not happening.” I huff once through my nose.
“You look like hell.”
“I feel worse.” I shut my eyes briefly. “And until I find whoever this is, there’s no rest for me… For us.”
My head feels constantly full these days. Like rage and exhaustion have been beating against each other for seventy-two straight hours.
I feel a shift in the air and turn instinctively toward the trail.
Christine is standing by the doorway of her ward, one hand braced lightly against the frame like she still doesn’t fully trust her balance yet.
The bruising along her face has faded slightly over the last few days, yellow blooming beneath purple now, but she still looks fragile in ways that rile me up.
And she’s smiling.
It catches me off guard enough that I forget Enzo is still on the line for half a second.
“You there?” He asks.
“I’ll call you back.” I end the call.
“You know,” she starts slowly, her voice rough from sleep and crying, “I’m starting to think I should feel special.”
“What?” I arch a brow, chuckling softly.
“Mmh.” She nods weakly. “Considering you apparently don’t take women as debt payment.”
“You were eavesdropping.” I sigh softly, before a laugh just as soft follows.
“You were loud.” Christine laughs too, softer than mine, immediately wincing afterward as her ribs protest.
“Don’t laugh too hard,” I warn automatically, already moving toward her.
“Look at that.” She shakes her head faintly. “Three days in a hospital and suddenly you’re a medical expert.”
“I always was.”
“You absolutely were not.” She fires back with a glint in her eyes.
I stop in front of her carefully, then lift my hands, my fingers brushing gently along her jaw, then higher toward the healing cut near her temple.
“How’s your head?” I ask tenderly, almost as tender as my touch.
“Attached.” She shrugs, then winces.
“Christine.”
“I’m fine.” She tries to swat my hand away but I don’t let her.
“You looked dizzy early.” I point out.
“I stood up too fast.” She defends.
“You looked like you were about to collapse.”
“I like theatrics.” She counters lightly, that glint still shimmering in her eyes.
I hold her gaze, framing her beautiful face, one I almost thought I’d never see smiling again when I got the call from Aisha.
“Any headaches?” My thumb brushes carefully near the bandage again.
“A little.” She squints her eyes.
“Nausea?” I fight the urge to lean in and kiss her temple.
“Sometimes.” She’s leaning forward now, her body responding to the magnetic pull that is the underlying problem.
I wanted her too much I was blinded by it.
“Blurred vision?” I clear my throat, my lips just an inch away from hers.
She stares at me for a second, then drops her gaze to my lips, and back up at me.
“You sound like a very attractive WebMD article.”
“Answer the question.”
“I’m okay.” Her voice comes out featherlight this time, and without the teasing.
Every caution recedes beneath the dangerous gravity pulling us closer.
I feel her breath first.
Then her eyes flick down again, this time slower, lingering on my mouth long enough that my own breathing roughens.
Fuck.
She’s so close.
Close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body reaching mine in slow waves.
Close enough that my pulse starts pounding beneath my skin.
My hand stays against her face longer than necessary, my thumb dragging once beneath her jaw while my eyes drop helplessly to her mouth again.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I feel the arousal hit me physically, dragging hard through my body.
My jaw flexes slightly as blood rushes downward, my body reacting while my brain tries to shut it down.
And the worst part is knowing she notices.
Her breathing changes too and her body leans further in.
That nearly kills me.
I swallow hard as her lips part faintly.
Her nose grazes mine faintly and my hand slips from her jaw to the side of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter wildly beneath my palm.
Then our lips touch.
Barely.
But I feel the impact in my groin.
I want to deepen it. I want to pull her into me and forget where we are for a few selfish minutes.
My body strains with the urge, every nerve suddenly awake and starving.
But then she turns her face away first, like it physically hurts to do it.
“I should sleep,” she whispers.
“Yeah.” I close my eyes briefly and clear my throat, forcing my body to remember how to function again. “You should.”
I lower my chin slightly against the top of her head and close my eyes for what feels like the first time in days.
Footsteps explode behind her, loud enough to rip both of us apart instantly.
“Hey.” Atelia halts, breathless.
“Are you crying?” I narrow my eyes, fear almost undoing me until I see that she's also smiling.
“Blue’s awake.” She announces, throwing both arms in the air.
Everything inside me stops, then starts all at once.
Christine jerks forward so fast she almost collapses.
“What?” Her voice breaks immediately. “What did you say?”
“She’s awake,” Atelia repeats, laughing through tears now. “The little menace is awake.”
Christine is already moving before the sentence fully finishes.
“Hey…” I catch her immediately when she stumbles.
“I’m fine,” she gasps, absolutely not fine.
“You’re limping.”
“My child is awake!” Her eyes are wild with hope.
Fair.
Everything blurs after that.
The corridor.
The nurses.
The machines.
All of it disappears beneath one singular, impossible relief pounding through my chest.
She's alive.
When we reach Blue’s room, Aisha is already there beside the bed openly sobbing while laughing at the same time.
“I knew it…” She cries. “I knew you were too stubborn to leave me alone with these people.”
Blue looks small beneath the blankets.
Tired.
Confused.
But awake.
Her little eyes blink slowly toward the doorway, finding Christine.
“Mommy?”
Christine breaks instantly, the sound leaving her doesn’t even resemble crying anymore. It’s more like relief tearing itself apart.
She rushes forward carefully, gathering Blue into her arms as gently as she can while tears pour freely down her face.
“Oh my God.” Christine laughs brokenly against her hair. “Oh my God, baby…”
“You’re squeezing too hard, Mommy.” Blue whines softly.
That somehow makes everyone cry harder.
Even Atelia turns away briefly.
Christine keeps kissing Blue’s face over and over like she’s trying to make up for every terrifying second she thought she might lose her.
“I miss you.” Christine sobs through a laugh. “So much.”
“Where did I go?” Blue frowns, sleepy.
“Nowhere.” Christine smiles, raining more kisses on her.
Blue’s eyes drift past her toward me.
“Robert?” She lifts her tiny hand weakly.
Something caves inward in my chest immediately.
Christine turns slowly, our eyes meeting.
“She wants you,” she whispers.
I move, my heart slamming in my chest at the rarity of the moment.
I've never had a child come back to life.
Christine adjusts to the side for me to reach the bed.
Blue’s tiny arms are around my neck.
And that it destroys me in the best fucking way possible.
I gather her against my chest carefully, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other holds her small body closer like my life depends on it.
Maybe it does.
She’s warm. Real. Breathing. Alive.
My eyes shut briefly as all of that melts back into my bones with terrifying clarity.
Blue pulls back first, enough to look at me properly, her tiny hands still hooked loosely around my neck while I keep one arm firm around her back like letting go is physically impossible now.
“I had a dream,” she announces seriously.
“Of course you did.” Christine laughs wetly beside us, wiping at her face again.
“There was a goat.” Her voice still sounds sleepy but she’s talking.
God, she’s talking.
“A big goat?” Aisha asks, still crying and smiling at the same time.
“Yes.” Blue nods solemnly. “And dangerous.”
“What made the goat dangerous?” Atelia asks carefully, as if this is critical information.
“It knew karate.”
I feel Christine shake beside me from laughter.
“And there was a tree too,” she explains, gesturing weakly with one hand. “But the tree was rude.”
“Again?” Aisha gasps dramatically. “Not another disrespectful tree.”
Blue sighs heavily, as if she’s exhausted by the lack of manners in nature.
“Yes, and Robert was there too.” She continues anyway, completely committed now.
“And what was Robert doing in this dream?” Christine asks softly, her eyes glued to Blue like she still can’t fully believe she’s awake.
“You saved me from the karate goat.” Blue turns back toward me instantly.
“That sounds difficult.” I smile.
“It was.” She pats my shoulder sympathetically. “But you won.”
“Thank God,” Atelia chuckles under her breath.
Blue grows quiet for a second after that, thoughtful now.
“Can I ask a question?”
Every adult in the room answers ‘yes’ at once.
Blue looks directly at me.
“Can I call you Daddy?” She asks it so simply that it almost doesn’t register at first.
And when it does, the room freezes completely. Even the machines suddenly feel muted.
My heart stops so hard it physically hurts.
Christine blinks.
Aisha’s mouth falls open.
Atelia presses her lips together like she’s trying not to combust.
“Because…” Blue, completely unaware she just detonated the emotional stability of every adult present, continues softly. “Because you were Daddy in my dream.”
That breaks the ice.
Aisha bursts into tears laughing.
Atelia outright loses the battle and starts cackling.
Christine presses both hands over her face as laughter and sobs collide helplessly.
And me, I can’t move for a second. I can barely breathe.
Blue frowns slightly at everyone’s reaction.
“What?” She asks innocently.
I laugh then, the sound wrecked but fuller than anything I’ve made in years.
“Yeah, princess.” I pull her closer against my chest again and kiss the top of her head. “You can call me Daddy.”