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I laugh at Axel and flip the lock on the front door. “Give her another two weeks of babysitting her monk of a husband and that’s it. If I weren’t in a rush to get to the baby shower the girls are throwing Melissa, I wouldn’t have even given her that.”
Axel follows behind as I make my way down the hallway and into my office to grab my keys and the files I need to go over at home tomorrow for the upcoming week.
“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know. Izzy almost took off my head when I told her I would be late for the shower,” he laughs, palming his keys and following me out the door. “That woman actually offered to ‘service’ me before you showed up. It’s a shame it isn’t the husband who hired us. Wouldn’t even take five minutes before we had a stack full of proof.”
“Pain in the ass. That’s all she is. But right now, I couldn’t care less,” I chuckle, pausing my steps off the sidewalk when my phone starts ringing. My brow pulls tight when Axel’s own cell starts ringing too. “Popular, I guess.”
He snorts and we both pull our phones out.
“Izzy,” he smiles.
Looking down and seeing Dee’s name across my screen has my stomach dropping. I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right as I stare at Dee’s smiling face on my phone.
I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer, but before I can speak, I notice Axel’s look of pure terror as he stands a few feet in front of me with his phone pressed against his ear.
That look alone is enough to have my body locking tight in stone-cold fear. Something is definitely very wrong.
“Cage,” I answer almost robotically.
“Greg! Oh, God. Greg…” She starts sobbing, and it takes every ounce of strength in my body to keep myself up and not crumpled into a mess on Sway’s golden sidewalk.
“Dee,” I gasp. There’s a simple reason for her to be upset. I’m sure it’s nothing.
“Hold…hold on. Let me…—let me put Beck on.” Her words wobble and her breath hitches a few times before I hear Beck take the phone.
“Listen to me, brother.”
I nod my head even though I know he can’t see me. My whole body is about to shut down. I just look at Axel and beg him to make my fears unwarranted. His normally tan skin is pale, and his eyes are concerned and… full of agony.
NO! No, oh God… NO!
“Greg, I’m going to tell you something and I want you to keep your shit together, no matter how hard this is going to be. Axel’s ready to help you. Let him.”
“Just say it,” I plead.
“There was an accident, Greg. Melissa and Cohen… Jesus, Cohen was taken by ambulance to the hospital. From what little I was able to get from one of the first responders on the scene, he’s not badly injured.”
I close my eyes. I know that my son is okay, but that relief is short-lived when I realize he’s stopped talking and hasn’t mentioned how my very pregnant wife is.
“John Beckett, you tell me right now that my wife, my fucking heart, is okay. Tell me right now that Melissa, Cohen, and my girls are okay!” I don’t even attempt to wipe the tears that are falling down my face. Axel clamps his arm down on my shoulder, offering his support.
“She had to be airlifted out, Greg. You need to let Axel get you to the hospital as soon as you can. It…it doesn’t look good.”
I drop the phone, hearing it shatter against the sidewalk, and it isn’t until I’m sitting in Axel’s truck while he speeds down the interstate that I realize those terrifying wails I hear are coming from me.
Chapter 8 – Melissa – Two Hours Earlier
I hate that Greg won’t be with me for the shower. I know he said that he would try his best, but knowing why he got called in is making me crazier. Or I should say who is behind the reason he was called in. Everyone knows how that terrible Mrs. Hutchins is. She has her sights on all the men at Corps Security. I wouldn’t even be shocked if she has tried to get some action from openly gay Davey. Greg’s told me over and over how frustrating she is, and I know he’ll be there longer than he wishes.
I don’t pretend to understand why they keep her on as a client, but I trust my husband, so I’ll give him the support he needs, even if I wish he were by my side right now.
I pull up to the intersection, adjusting my belt so that it doesn’t keep digging into my belly, and take a deep breath. It doesn’t do me any good to stress over a situation I can’t control. I know it’s my hormones making me insane. Seriously, I know that Greg doesn’t have any interest in a baby shower. Hell, if I weren’t the one with enough emotional crazy rushing through my veins right now, I would probably laugh at a husband being dragged to a shower for his pregnant wife. I know he doesn’t care; he’s just doing this because I want him there.