Chapter 25
Ethan
Ipull into the underground parking garage, find an open space, and kill the engine. Silence falls heavy between us, and we both stare out the windshield. I’d hoped never to see this hospital again.
In the passenger seat, Jackson’s knee bounces. He’s been a wreck since we learned Charlie—or Lucas, as we’re told he prefers—was kidnapped, rescued, and admitted to the same unit Reece was only a few weeks ago.
My body sinks into the soft leather, utterly spent. I’m drained, but even in my exhaustion, I know Jax feels a hundred times worse.
He hasn’t slept. He has been a zombie, focused on getting home and avoiding the media. How they associated Hugo and Kyle—and Jax by extension—to the latest raid on Skid Row is anyone’s guess.
I place my hand on his thigh. “This isn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
“Of course it’s my fault.” He swallows hard, his throat clicking, and hangs his head. “None of this would’ve happened—to any of you—if it wasn’t for me.”
“Look at me.” I cradle his face and lift his haunted gaze to meet mine.
“We choose to be with you, every day. I’d choose you in every lifetime, a thousand times over, no matter what.
” His eyes shimmer, and I press my forehead to his.
“I love you. Your fight is my fight, baby boy, and we’ll get through this. ”
Christmas in New York can’t arrive fast enough.
We exit the elevator to the ICU. Agents and officers, men and women in various uniforms, flank the corridor. Their hushed conversations come to a standstill, and I feel the scorching heat of their stares on us—or rather, on Jax.
I straighten my posture and lace our fingers together. Let them have something new to gossip about.
The double doors at the end of the hall open, and the clickety-clack of fast-approaching heels captures everyone’s attention.
Bennett sweeps her narrowed gaze over every officer. “Don’t you all have somewhere to be?” she snaps, and the crowd swiftly scatters. “Come on, boys. We have work to do.”
Jax and I trade glances then hustle through the doors. They slam shut with an echoing thud, followed by an eerie silence, broken only by the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of a monitor—a chilling soundtrack to the oppressive doom. Did I mention I hate this place?
She stops in front of a set of glass doors, the curtains drawn. “I asked Reece what you’d need,” she tells Jax. “He said Aurora and space. Your girl is inside, but unfortunately, I can’t give you space. This is the biggest raid yet. We’ve been searching for the cells.”
The cells.
Aurora called me after our game, worried Jax would review the security footage and realize she wasn’t home.
Her voice shook as she tried to explain why she was at Jackson’s penthouse.
I was on the road, and the boisterous team made it hard to hear, but I gathered two key facts: Lucas was missing, and she was alone.
Naturally, Jax picked up on my distress.
It was the longest seven-hour flight of my life, with sporadic text messaging. We were helpless, learning something new each hour. Lucas was in the ICU. Reece was admitted for observation and wound care. The twins were uninjured but refused to leave. Bennett escorted Aurora to the hospital herself.
It was utter chaos.
Everybody assumed Jax had received taunting pictures of Lucas in the cell being tortured.
He hadn’t—thank fuck—but I find it hard to believe this was only a ploy to force information from Reece’s partner.
These assholes attacked while we were out of town and drew everyone else away from Aurora. That can’t be a coincidence.
She was smart enough to set aside her discomfort and stay at the penthouse. In the past, she may have called Emily for help. The thought turns my stomach. I don’t trust the bitch not to be involved.
Aurora could’ve been in a cell next to Lucas. Again, we got damn lucky.
Jackson’s fingers twitch. “I knew nothing about them. Memories from my childhood are spotty,” he repeats the exact words he practiced with Rocco, which are not a lie.
I squeeze his hand and clear my throat. “Our lawyer is on the way from New York. You can question Jax with him. For now, could we see our family please?”
Bennett nods, and I creep the door open, quietly entering the dimly lit room. The twins flank the bed, Reece and Aurora cuddled on the couch.
She gasps softly, “Jax!” and jumps up, rushing into his arms after quickly kissing my cheek.
My gaze lands on Lucas’ battered face. He’s asleep, curled on his side, blankets tucked under his chin. He’s about Jackson’s age but looks so young.
A chill runs down my spine, and my stomach clenches. My teeth rattle. What if it were Jax they’d taken and beaten? What if it were him lying in a hospital bed with a severe concussion, collapsed lung, and broken ribs? Or Aurora?
Most likely, if they were snatched, I’d never see them again. They’d never make it to the hospital. Jax would be killed, and Aurora would disappear.
I’d commit murder, and the words burst from my lips. “You kill them all?”
Dante glances behind me to ensure our privacy. “Yes, sir. Except one, but he’s as good as dead.”
I clasp Reece’s uninjured shoulder. “You let one live?”
“To send a message,” Dante continues. “It was Lucas’ request.”
At the sound of his name, his eyes flutter open and widen. “Holy shit,” he rasps, his voice raw. “I didn’t know everyone was here.” He pushes himself up in bed with a wince, his arms trembling.
Jax lingers near the door. “Rest. Don’t get up.
” He’s terrible at comforting others, even worse than I am.
He rarely touches people, except for me, Aurora, or sometimes Grant, but he’s also perceptive and understands better than anyone that Lucas might want space right now.
“Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”
Desi lifts a plastic pitcher with a straw from the bedside table and encourages Lucas to drink. “Get us to New York? My mom’s a nurse; he can recover there.”
“He’s under observation and on oxygen.” Reece sucks in a deep breath, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion. “He needs to remain in the hospital.”
“You’re one to talk,” Lucas croaks. “Did they release you? Or did you sign yourself out against medical advice?”
“I’m still in the hospital, aren’t I?” Reece raises his brows, presses his lips together, and collapses against the couch cushion. “I’ll leave when you do, and you’ll stay with me.”
“He doesn’t need you,” Dante interjects, his dark eyes narrowed.
“He has us,” Desi adds. “We’ll take care of him.”
Oh boy. I exchange a glance with Jax and Aurora, who now sit beside Reece, Aurora on Jax’s lap, his hand on her belly. We have some important decisions to make, none of which I’m ready to discuss tonight.
“One day at a time. When the doctors release you,” I tell Lucas, “we’ll get you to New York if that’s what you want. Same with you guys.” I nod to the twins.
Desi stands and perches on the side of the bed, motioning for me to take his chair. He smiles down at Lucas and brushes his hair from his forehead. “Spend Christmas in New York with us—no people, just us.”
Lucas returns the smile and whispers, “Okay.”
Dante watches their every move. It’s obvious the three are close, and I wouldn’t expect the twins to allow Reece to care for their boyfriend.
A line has been drawn. Reece may have always cared for his partner, and perhaps he’s feeling guilty, but he’ll have to let him go. The twins are ready to return home—with Lucas—and I don’t blame them.
We’re all going to do what’s necessary to protect those we love.
An hour later, Rocco arrives, and Bennett accompanies him into the room. With him is another man I vaguely recognize.
He doesn’t look like Rocco or Shorty. He’s taller and more muscular, with a full head of wavy, salt-and-pepper hair. The twins stand when he enters, and, despite the age difference, the resemblance is uncanny. He has to be their father.
After hugging them, he shakes my hand. “Wow, you’ve gotten bigger. You remember me?”
I furrow my brows and nod. “Yeah, vaguely.”
“Dimitri. You stayed with me when you were about…”
“Five,” I answer and swallow hard. “You called me little prince.”
It’s one of my earliest memories, etched in my brain. My mother had overdosed. I thought she was dead.
In footed pajamas and bawling my eyes out, I ran across the street to the only place I knew: the diner. I still remember the scrape of the rough, cold concrete under the thin plastic material covering my feet.
I was terrified and crying so hard, I couldn’t talk. Shorty scooped me up, rushed me to his office, and sent someone to the apartment.
An ambulance took her away, and he brought me to Dimitri’s. I stayed with him, his wife, and their baby for many nights.
When my mother eventually came for me, they argued. She threatened to call the police. She hated them.
They had spoiled me with new clothes and gifts, but after we left, she got rid of them all. She most likely sold everything for drug money. It wasn’t long before she was using again.
I could’ve grown up with the twins. That’s wild to think about.