Addicted After All (Addicted #3)(22)

Now we know why they kicked him out. “Maybe that’s a good thing,” I tell him.

Her eyes didn’t look right. The Paris riot—it’s still with me. Ryke’s eyebrow is slit in the corner, a literal scar from that night like Daisy’s cheek. I have no external wounds to show for, but I remember the fear, the complete lack of control, and I never want to experience that again. It’s panic so deep that death feels close. Suffocating.

Inside out.

Today was a very small taste of that, and I think we all know it triggered something in Daisy that we can’t see.

Ryke runs his hands through his hair, distressed, and then he scans Lily on the hospital bed. “I’m so f*cking sorry, Lily.”

“It’s okay,” she says in a soft voice. Her chin quakes.

“Shh, love.” I lean closer to her and hold her face between two hands. “He’s okay.” My chest collapses at the pain in her eyes.

“I can’t feel him,” she cries, tears leaking.

My heart is torn to shreds. “You could never feel him,” I remind her. “It doesn’t mean he’s dead.” The moment I say the word, she bursts from a cry to a guttural sob. I can’t explain this hurt that courses through me, it’s like being submerged beneath water. “Shh, Lil,” I choke out her name. I end up stroking her head, wishing I could just crawl on the hospital bed and hold her in my arms.

The door suddenly opens, but it’s Ryke. Leaving. I catch him pinching his eyes before he disappears. After a few minutes of silence, Lily breathes out trained breaths, her eyes shut as wet trails streak her cheeks.

When Ryke enters the room again, so does the doctor, and I wonder if my brother tracked him down. I have a feeling he did.

The man with combed blond hair and blue scrubs does a small double-take, recognizing our faces from the media, probably. He snatches a chart off the wall. “I’m Dr. Adams. I’ll be taking your ultrasound.”

“You seem young,” I say.

“I’m a first year resident.”

As long as he can read the machine, I don’t really care what year he is.

Dr. Adams sits on a stool and lifts Lily’s sweater to her ribs. While he squirts gel on her stomach, his gaze pings between me and Ryke, deep in thought. “So who’s the father?”

Ryke crosses his arms, and I glower. He can’t be serious.

“Loren is,” Lily answers softly.

“I may have lost my kid and that’s what you ask me?” I say to this guy.

Dr. Adams switches on the ultrasound monitor. “If you need a paternity test—”

“She doesn’t f*cking need one,” I cut him off. My throat is too closed up to add anything else. I can’t even flash a dry smile. I just glare.

Ryke adds, “You have the worst f*cking bedside manner I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m working on it,” he says unenthusiastically. And then he presses the probe on her stomach, smoothing the gel out as he runs it across her skin. The sonogram pops up on the monitor, and Lily’s fingers tighten around mine, her collar protruding as she inhales.

And slowly, I hear the beep, beep, beep of another heart.

The relief almost buckles my legs.

He’s okay.

I rub my lips as my body asks me to exhale, to breathe, to cry. I bottle every sentiment that normal people let out. Why are you f*cking crying, Loren? I hear my dad’s voice in the pit of my ear. And I shut down any tears. Just like that.

“He’s looking good,” Dr. Adams affirms. “Vitals of both mother and child, no internal bleeding, everything in check.” He quickly stands up, wiping the gel off her stomach with a towel. “I suggest consulting your Ob/Gyn within the week, just as routine, but it all should be fine. I have to do some paperwork, and I’ll have a nurse release you when you’re free to go.”

He speaks so fast that he’s out the door, and the weight of this good news hits me harder.

My life wasn’t rerouted again. Not this time. I sit on the edge of the hospital bed, and Lily immediately flings her arms around my shoulders, her forehead to my chest. I hug her closer, my heart pounding so hard that I wonder if she can feel it.

I want him.

Goddamn I want this kid more than I’ve wanted a lot of things in life.

And I know it’s because he’s a part of us. I’d never want to destroy a piece of Lily. No matter if the road ahead will be rougher. Without her, it’d be unbearable. We’ve crossed a point where losing our son would hurt more than actually having him.

“Lil,” I whisper, my lips brushing her ear. “I love you.” My hand slides across her neck, and she lifts her head and kisses me, so tenderly that I understand she wants it to be one kiss and nothing more sexual. I open my mouth to ask if she’s okay.

But she speaks before I can. “You’re relieved.”

I shake my head and tilt her chin up.

She frowns.

“I’m happy,” I clarify. Despite all of my fears, I’m happy that he’s alive.

She kisses my cheek and then I can’t hold back any longer, I kiss her full-force, my breath becoming hers and hers mine. One of my arms wraps along her back. When the door creaks open, we instantly part.

“Thanks,” Daisy says to a nurse who must’ve led her here.