The Strength of the Pack (Suncoast Society #30)(74)

“No, but she can still donate eggs, and if you all use a surrogate, you can do that.”

Dammit. That was going to crush Eva. She already felt guilty enough as it was that Jesse’s opportunity to be a birth father had been accidentally taken from him.

“Focus on the fact that she’s still alive,” Tilly said, squeezing his arm. “And the baby’s alive and doing well.”

He looked over at the nurse again, and received another kindly smile. “He’s doing well. You slept through rounds. The neonatologist on call can come back to talk to you, if you want. He’s still here.”

He nodded and pointed to Tilly. “To her. Have him talk to her. I can’t…I can’t even…”

He tried not to think about the smells of aviation fuel and the feel of Cherise viciously struggling in his arms, kicking and screaming and trying to get to their parents.

He shoved that memory away. “Can I sign a form or something giving Tilly authority?”

Tilly and the nurse both frowned. “What?” they asked.

“For treatment or to get information or access or whatever. If I’m not here, I need someone else who can.”

“Cherise is out in the waiting room,” Tilly said. “Why don’t we let her—”

“Bloody hell, both of you, then,” he said, struggling to keep his voice down. “And Leo and Jesse, too. I can’t be up here all the time, I need to be with Eva.”

Tilly cupped his face in her hands and waited until he focused on her again. “She’ll be okay in a few days, most likely. We need to get you a room at the Ronald McDonald House and get you some food and some sleep.”

“But…I need…” He broke down again.

The nurse brought another chair for Tilly, and she sat in front of him, holding him as he sobbed against her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, stroking his hair, rocking him. “The baby’s doing good right now. Damn sight better than you’re doing, to be honest. Now, I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, and the back end of my car looks like someone got murdered. You’re cleaning that up, FYI.”

He managed a snort through his tears, which he knew damn well was her intention.

“There, see?” she said. “If I can crack a joke, you know it’s going to be okay. But you need to breathe, and you need to eat. And you damn sure need to sleep. Cherise drove me up here. We went by the house and grabbed you some clothes. Now, I’m going to go get her and bring her in here and the nurse can have you sign whatever and Cherise will stay here with the little guy until you and I sleep.”

He nodded.

“Okay.” She kissed his forehead and got up, leaving the unit.

She returned a short time later with Cherise, now scrubbed in and gowned and masked. The nurse had Nate sign forms authorizing Tilly and Cherise to make decisions and receive information on his behalf.

“What about Leo and Jesse?” he asked.

“When they get here,” Tilly said, “we can do that, but for now their asses better be at Eva’s bedside.”

“Laurel?”

“June and Scrye took her. She’s fine.”

He felt horrible that Laurel had been an afterthought to him and apparently Tilly and Cherise picked up on that.

“Yo, bro,” Cherise said. “Don’t feel bad. Not like you didn’t have a shitload already on your plate. She’s fine.”

Tilly grabbed a bag that Cherise had brought in with her, and she led Nate out of the NICU. They dumped their disposable gowns and masks and the other stuff in the entry and he slowly followed Tilly down corridors.

“Where are we going?” he hoarsely asked.

She slowed her purple-Croc-clad strides and hooked an arm through his. “Oh, man. You are messed up. I thought I was bad off.” But her tone held no snark, only sadness. “Front desk. They’ll call security for us and give us a ride over to the Ronald McDonald House. We’ll get checked in and sleep.”

Ten minutes later they were standing in the lobby, with the clerk telling them there was only currently one room available, with one bed.

“That’s fine,” Tilly said before Nate could argue, pulling out her ID and holding out her hand to him for his wallet. He slowly dug it out of his back pocket and handed it over to her for her to paw through and find his ID.

He realized the nurse in the NICU had put an ID band on Tilly’s wrist, and come to think of it, before they’d left the baby’s side, Cherise had received one, too.

The clerk started to go over things after filling out paperwork, then Tilly stopped her. “I’m sorry, can I please get him upstairs and horizontal and come back down and do the rest of this? He’s not processing anything right now and I’m afraid he’s going to collapse. It was a rough night for all of us.”

“Of course.” The volunteer grabbed a room key and led them upstairs.

Tilly looked around the room and pointed him toward the bed. “I brought three chargers with me. In the bag.” She set it on the bed. “Hopefully one works for your phone. If not, later we’ll go out and buy one or have someone bring one up. I’ll go finish the orientation.”

He nodded.

Tilly followed the woman out, closing the door behind them.

He didn’t even get as far as finding the charger. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed, sobbing himself to sleep.