Be My Hero (Forbidden Men #3)(108)

"Hey!" He grabbed my arm.

"I think that's my baby." I pointed and slowed a little but I kept walking in the direction of all the commotions of cop cars and ambulances. "My wife took off a couple days ago with my son, and I think she's somewhere around here. I have to see if that's my baby."

"Okay, fine. All right, kid. Just calm down. You stay here, and I'll find out if that's your son." He pointed at me warningly, but as soon as he turned away to stride off, I followed him. Another police officer noticed us approaching. When I caught his eye, his widened, and we both recognized each other at the same moment.

The nicer cop who'd been at my apartment for all the complaints pointed in my direction. "Hey, there's the father."

Oh, God.

Realizing I'd found Julian, I surged forward, scanning frantically. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Right here," someone answered. I turned to find a male cop, standing at the opened doors of an ambulance, trying to hold a hysterical Julian. The blanket wrapped around him was shredded and dirty enough it could've been dragged on the ground for the past three days. But what caused tears to prick my eyes was the dirt smeared all over my son and the swollen, bruised cuts slashed across his forehead.

"Oh, f*ck." My knees buckled once, but I kept running until I was with him and taking him out of the other man's hands. "My boy. My little boy."

I turned him to press his chest against mine as he liked to be held best when he was upset, and I immediately started cooing in his ear. "It's okay, buddy. I'm here. I'm here now. It's okay, Julian. My little Fighter."

I started singing "Kryptonite." He grabbed onto my shirt and buried his face in my neck. My tears kept flowing as he settled. But he'd been so upset, little tremors from hyperventilating occasionally shot through him as he gasped for air. Through it all, he refused to let go of me. And I refused to let go of him.

"It's okay," I repeated when I could sing no more. I kept my voice calm, even though the rest of me grew more and more furious. Kissing the side of his head, I petted his hair, and then rested my cheek against him before glancing at the cop who'd been holding him. "How could she do this to him? Where the f*ck is she?"

The man's eyes filled with sympathy and regret. "I'm sorry, sir. But your wife overdosed. She didn't make it."



EVA



Pick was gone six hours. He only called once to let me know he had Julian, and that our son was okay. They were on their way home from the hospital where the police had demanded a checkup.

The mention of a hospital and the police freaked me out. Pick's voice had shaken so hard, though, and sounded so frantic, I didn't question him. If he was on his way home, I figured I'd get my answers soon enough. And I did as soon as he opened the door. I saw Julian's swollen, scratched face and lost it.

"Oh my God. My little boy." I snatched him from Pick's arms and moaned as I pressed him against me, breathing in the unfamiliar smells that were wafting from him. I held him tight as he buried his face into my neck, grabbing handfuls of my hair like he always did—which only made me cry harder.

"How could she do this to him?" I demanded, whirling to face Pick over Julian's shoulder. "Where the f*ck is that crazy bitch?" I was determined to claw her face off.

Pick stared at me, his expression hollow and eyes red-rimmed from crying. His voice was hoarse when he said, "She's dead."

My mouth fell open. I waited for him to explain, but he just trudged past me like a tired, old man. He started toward the couch before he caught sight of Skylar sleeping in the bouncer. Scooping her up, he pulled her close as he sat down with her and buried his nose in her hair.

When he finally looked up at me, the dazed expression in his eyes told me he was in shock. Without a word, I sat next to him, and the four of us huddled together, just sitting there.

***



Though I was by no means ready to let him go, I knew Julian needed lots of rest, so at some point, I reluctantly rose and carried him to the crib. Pick followed me with a still sleeping Skylar and nestled her next to Julian.

I delicately touched the scrapes on his face and once again felt the rage welling. Setting my knuckles to my mouth, I wished Tristy were well on her way to hell.

Pick caught my hand, startling me. When I looked up, the darkness in his eyes shocked me. He looked savage. Turning away, he started for the doorway, drawing me out of the nursery with him.

I had no idea what was going through his head. His son had finally been returned, yet he had to be pissed about what'd been done to Julian. On the other hand, his oldest friend had just died, even though she probably wasn't his favorite person at the moment. His head had to be all over the place.

Touching his back, I asked, "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer, just kept his back to me as he quietly shut the door so as not to disturb the children. Then he spun to me and pushed me against the wall. His mouth was on mine and his tongue was inside me before I even knew what was happening.

Heat lightning exploded out the ends of my toes. Instantly aroused, I wrapped my arms around him as he lifted me up again the wall. I tried to follow suit with my legs but he stopped me so he could grapple with my pants and shove them down, along with my underwear.

Then he grasped my bare thigh and hooked it around his hips. He sank his teeth into one of my breasts through my blouse, and I squirmed against him, wanting all my clothes out of the way so he could bite whatever he wanted.