Fake Empire(107)

“Where. Is. Scarlett?”

“New York General. Her water broke forty-five minutes ago. I tried to go in the ambulance with her, but she wouldn’t let me. She just wanted me to call you.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Sixty-three. “I’m headed straight there.”

I hang up the phone, silently cursing the elevator to move faster.

“She’s having the baby?”

I give Asher a duh look. “No, her secretary just really wanted to ask you out.”

“We’re past the joking point. Got it.”

I bang my head back against the wall. “We were supposed to have another month. I have to go straight there. I don’t have time to take you two back to the office.”

“Dude. You’re about to become a dad. I’m coming with you.”

I nod, not bothering to respond. One, because I don’t really care what Asher does, so long as it doesn’t slow me down. Two, because I’m already freaking out enough without letting his answer fully sink in.

The elevator doors open. I basically sprint toward the black SUV parked along the curb. Roman is leaning against the side of the car, reading a newspaper. His eyes widen as I race toward him. I assume Asher and Isabel are behind me, but I don’t bother checking to confirm they’re keeping up.

“Mr. Kensington, is everything—”

“Keys,” I demand. Roman is an excellent driver as it relates to dressing and discretion. But I’ve never seen him so much as run a yellow. Wisely, he listens, handing them over and climbing into the passenger seat. I round the front of the car and climb into the driver’s side. Doors open and slam in the back, and I peel away from the curb like we’re fleeing the scene of a crime.

“What hospital is she at?” Asher asks.

“New York General.” I swerve, narrowly missing a delivery guy on a bike.

“If we’re going to the West Side, you should take 7th. There’s an accident on 8th.”

“How many blocks?”

“Five, no seven. Wait, no, actually four.”

We reach a red light, and I slam on the brakes. Cars are already beginning to cross from the other direction, so I can’t run it.

I glance in the rear-view mirror. “Do you or do you not know how to get there?”

“Traffic is always a shitshow, man. You know that. It keeps…” He trails off. “Oh, wait. They cleared 8th. You should go that way now.”

I huff and tap at the black screen on the dash. “Does this thing work?”

“Yes, sir. I can connect it.” Roman leans over and starts fiddling with the controls on the dashboard. A few seconds later, a map appears on the screen.

The light turns green and I zoom forward, following the directions coming from the speakers. We hit another yellow, so I press down the accelerator and change lanes.

“Damn,” Asher comments as I cut off a Mercedes, setting off a series of honks. “We should’ve gone to Monaco to race like we talked about in college. You can seriously drive, man.”

My phone starts ringing, Incoming Call flashing across the screen. I’m about to reject it when I see it’s Scarlett calling.

“Hello?” My greeting is tentative. I know she must be pissed.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re dying in a ditch.”

In the backseat, Asher snorts. If I could flip him off while driving, I would.

“Scarlett, I swear I’m—”

“An HOUR, Crew. I’ve been here almost an hour! Where the fuck are you?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” I cut off a cab. “Ten, tops.”

“Where have you been? Why weren’t you answering?”

I sigh. “I had a meeting. My phone was on silent and I wasn’t checking it.”

“You promised me.” All the anger in her voice has drained away. The uncertainty that’s left behind makes me press harder on the accelerator. “You promised me I wouldn’t have to do this alone.”

We hit another red, and I barely restrain another profanity as I tap an urgent beat on the steering wheel, urging it to change back to green. “You won’t, baby. I’m almost there.”

“I’m scared, Crew.” She says the words softly, but they have the effect of a shout for how they hit me. “It hurts so fucking much and they couldn’t find a heartbeat at first and I—I’m freaking out.”

A tight fist of fear squeezes my chest. I fight through the panic before it can choke me. She needs assurance, not more anxiety. “Red, I’ll be there. I swear. But even if I were in a ditch somewhere, you can do this. Just breathe. This is what all those classes were about, right?”

“You weren’t paying attention during Lamaze.”

Scarlett sounds like her usual self again, and I almost pass out from relief. I definitely shouldn’t be driving. But I can see the hospital up ahead, only one block away. “Yes, I was,” I counter. “You just focus on one thing and then do the really fast breaths.”

“Uh-huh. And then what?”

I glance at Roman for help. He shrugs. “I thought you had kids,” I hiss. Another shrug. “Exhale?” I suggest.

Scarlett laughs. It’s more strained and reedy than her usual laugh, but it loosens the tightness in my chest some. “You’re so full of shit. I knew you weren’t paying attention.”