The Strength of the Pack (Suncoast Society #30)(71)

“At least I look the part,” she mumbled to Nate as he stared at her. “I can probably talk my way back there once she’s in recovery.”

“Why won’t they let me go back, Tilly?”

She grabbed his hands and squeezed, hard, staring him in the eyes. “Nate, this is serious. She’s bleeding, and they have to save her and the baby. I’m sure as soon as it’s safe they’ll come get you, but right now, they’re focused on saving them.”

“It’s too soon, Tilly.” He knew he needed to call Leo and Jesse. Hell, Cherise, too, if Marcia hadn’t already. “She’s only thirty-two weeks.”

“And those are damn good chances,” Tilly said. “Seriously good. But even if it was just pre-eclampsia, they’d still have to deliver the baby. Unfortunately, with the rupture, they needed to get her in there fast. They’ve got anesthesiologists and surgeons and nurses and everyone else running around doing their jobs. They can’t take you back there right now. We need to call Leo.”

Leo. Of course. Nate nodded, still numb, fumbling around for his phone and finally getting it out. He punched in Leo’s number and hit send…then realized he had no clue what to say to the man.

Leo answered. “Nate?”

“Um, yeah.”

Leo’s voice changed. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Nate caught sight of people hurrying into the waiting room and realized it was Marcia and Derrick, followed by June and Scrye. June wore a long trench coat over her bare lower legs and sandals, no doubt covering up whatever Scrye had been in the middle of tying when all hell broke loose. Scrye had been in the middle of suspending her when everything happened. June carried a bag and headed straight for a bathroom as Scrye followed Marcia and Derrick over.

“Nate?” Leo asked.

Nate spotted a raw end of red rope peeking out past the trench coat’s hem, brushing against the backs of June’s calves, before the bathroom door swung shut after her.

Scrye cut his ropes. He never cuts his f*cking ropes. As that thought sank in, he realized Leo was yelling at him over the phone to talk to him.

“We’re at Proctor-Collins,” Nate hoarsely said, his throat closing as tears hit. “The emergency room.”

Tilly saved him, gently taking the phone from him. “Leo? Tilly.” She got up and walked away, waving for Marcia, Derrick, and Scrye to follow her to listen as she told Leo what was going on.

Landry slid over into Tilly’s seat and draped an arm around Nate’s shoulders. “She’s strong and tough. She’ll be okay.”

It felt like he couldn’t even breathe. Had he thought nothing could be worse than that day at the air show?

Fuck that.

This was worse.

A thousand, million times worse.

And once again, he was helpless to do a f*cking thing to save the people he loved.





Tilly got the phone tree going, including making sure Cherise was called. Leo and Jesse still hadn’t arrived when a nurse in surgical scrubs came out and called for him. He grabbed Tilly’s hand and dragged her with him.

“I don’t know if they’ll let us both in,” Tilly muttered as they jogged behind the nurse down several halls.

“Then use that bloody brilliant charm of yours to get yourself in,” he muttered back. “I need you.”

“Roger roger.”

The nurse had him and Tilly scrub in, apparently missing the fact that Tilly wasn’t actually an employee. Then she helped them gear up—cap, gown, face mask, booties, and gloves, before handing them off to another nurse who was similarly garbed and took them in.

“Her vitals are stable and they’ve delivered your son,” the nurse said.

“Son? How is he?”

“They’re still evaluating him. I’m taking you to your son, but you can’t go in with your wife yet.”

He started to ask why when they pushed through another door and spotted three people in scrubs surrounding a crying baby in an open incubator bed.

“Congrats, Daddio,” Tilly said, sounding near tears. “Your pack just got bigger.”

They let them approach and even though they were talking to Nate, he didn’t comprehend a word they said. The world pulled into a tight focus as he reached out a gloved finger and touched his son’s tiny right hand.

The baby’s fingers closed around Nate’s finger. His color looked purply and reddish and not what he thought a baby was supposed to look like.

Fortunately, Tilly was talking and listening and getting the information he wasn’t capable of absorbing at that time.

Two of the people departed, heading to another room to their left where he heard commotion and suspected that was where Eva lay fighting for her life.

If he turned that direction, he’d want to run to her side, and only be in the way.

And he knew it.

Tilly walked over to the other side of the bed and looked across at him. All he could see were her eyes, between the cap and the mask.

“Nate, look at me. I need you to listen to me, buddy, and I need to know you understand me.”

He nodded.

“Did you get any of what they just said?”

He shook his head.

“Okay. Are you listening to me?”

He nodded.