Warrior (First to Fight #1)(35)

Though the street is empty of traffic, a sense of unease skitters along my shoulders. Cole’s screams follow me the entire way to work.




Most days, motherhood suits me surprisingly well. Especially considering I didn’t have the slightest idea what I was doing. I took to it like it was second nature and so far, I haven’t forgotten him in a marketplace or pulled my hair out in frustration. Though, I expect both are in my future.

Unfortunately, Cole must sense my growing distress because his mood is no better the next day. By the time we reach the doctor’s office, I’m doubting my ability to handle this motherhood thing after all.

I hadn’t been able to skip another day from work, so we only had a narrow window between the end of my work day and the closing of the doctor’s office.

Cole struggles against my hip. “Shhh, baby boy. We just have to see Dr. Foley for a few minutes and then we’ll go back home.”

I doubt he cares much, but it makes me feel better.

We stumble into the doctor’s office a screaming, snotty mess. I am about ten seconds away from shedding all dignity and joining him in a rousing moment of self-pity. Heads swivel in our direction, a few mothers offer sympathetic smiles of solidarity, as the rest give me dirty looks. I ignore both, my cheeks burning, and march up to the receptionist desk. I don’t recognize the new person there, but I sure hope they’re having a better day than I am.

“Hi.” I bounce Cole on my hip in an effort to soothe him, to no avail. “We have an appointment for a checkup with Dr. Foley.”

“Name, please?”

“Cole Walker.”

The receptionist types into the computer while I try to distract Cole with the brightly colored flyers that paper the wall next to the window.

“The doctor will see you soon, if you’ll just wait here.” She smiles sympathetically and gestures toward the play area in the corner of the waiting room. “I’m sure Mr. Walker would love those.”

I blow out a frustrated breath. Unable to handle his cries anymore, I hunker down in the play area with him and pick up one of the toys with blocks stacked on wires. Cole sits in my lap and runs the blocks back and forth across the wire. The motions keep his attention for a few minutes, and I use that time to calm myself down, as well. Subjecting him to a session of poking and prodding is only going to make his mood go back downhill again, so I take my moments of peace and quiet when I could get them.

“Ms. Walker?”

“Right here.” I stand and walk to the window.

“Sorry for the wait. The doctor will see you in exam room three.”

“Thank you so much.”

She gestures behind her to the hallway that leads back to a row of rooms.

Twenty minutes later, we leave the doctor’s office with screams echoing behind us. I take deep, cleansing breaths because seeing him hurting and unhappy has the same effect on me. I don’t know how my parents ever raised Jack and me without going crazy. And they only had to deal with my teenage years. They made it look so effortless. I don’t know how Ben’s parents did it with four kids. One is definitely more than enough for me. Even though I know the risk of having a second baby with HLHS is very low, I can’t help but feel a trill of fear at having another one.

A cool autumn breeze greets us and soothes my hot face. I absolutely hate my baby being in pain, and it only made it worse that there was only so much I could do to make him feel better. I hoped the preemptive medicine I’d given him for both the teething and the shots would kick in soon to take away some of the hurt.

I start to calculate how long that should be as I dig through my purse for the keys to my car. I hear the rev of an engine and squeal of tires, but don’t pay it any mind as I find my keys wedged behind my wallet. I snag them and look up just in time to see an SUV roll to a stop in front of me at the doctor’s entrance. At first, I don’t think much of it. Someone is probably just dropping off an elderly patient or a new mom.

I brush off the thought and hitch Cole farther up on my hip. The parking lot was full to bursting this afternoon, so I had to park on the far side of the lot nearest to the busy side street. Cole’s weight begins to pull at my side and a headache is making itself known behind my temples as I make my way across the lot. The only thing I want to do is curl up with a big cup of tea and maybe a nice bath and a book. I doubt I would get to do any of those things, but it is nice to think about.

The car starts behind me as I chatter to Cole about our plans for the rest of the day, which has become a habit of mine. His tears have abated, so I continue until we’re halfway to where I parked. I hear the telltale crunch of gravel behind me and make a point to move out of the path of the oncoming car. I glance back to make sure there’s plenty of room.

The car window rolls down, but it’s in the direct path of sunlight and covered in shadows, so I don’t get a good look at the driver. I see a nondescript arm leaning out of the open window and I don’t make much of it. My brain must sense something off about the whole thing because I glance back again to see the hand is holding a gun.

And it’s pointed straight at us.

A loud shot breaks the calm afternoon and I feel the bullet whiz past me and explode through the window of a nearby car. As glass rains down on us, everything in my brain slows to a single thought: Don’t hurt my baby.

I shift Cole’s body so I’m between him and the car, automatically dropping our bags in the lot so I can hold him more securely. I hear another shot sound off, and I can’t help the feral scream that erupts from my chest. I dart between the nearest cars and crouch to the ground. I can hear the slow crawl of the attacker’s vehicle behind me, so I scramble until we’re on the sidewalk that leads back toward the office with a minivan separating us.