Chapter 1
CHAPTER 2 — TEN MONTHS
He caught her around the waist as the blue blanket slipped from her hands. He grabbed it before it touched the tile and pressed it back against her chest.
The surgeon said her name. She straightened immediately, pulling away from Wade.
“Tell me.”
“He made it through surgery.”
Her eyes closed. One breath escaped her, almost a sob. Wade felt his own lungs start working again.
“But he’s not out of danger,” the surgeon continued. “The next twenty-four hours are critical. We controlled the internal bleeding, but the swelling around his brain concerns us. He’s being moved to pediatric intensive care.”
Wade looked from the doctor to Audrey.
“Internal bleeding from what?”
Audrey’s face changed.
“The crash.”
“What crash?”
“A car forced us off Lakeshore Drive tonight.”
Wade went completely still. “Forced you.”
“It came up behind us twice. The second time it hit my rear quarter panel.” She touched the dried blood near her temple, as if she were only now remembering it was there. “We went through the barrier and into a construction divider.”
Wade turned toward Silas. “Find the car.”
Silas nodded and reached for his phone.
“No.”
Audrey’s voice stopped both men.
“Nobody leaves until I understand what happens to my son.”
Wade looked at her. For years, people had obeyed him before he finished speaking. Audrey never had. Maybe that was why losing her had hurt more than he had ever admitted out loud.
“Then we stay,” he said.
Her surprise lasted a second.
The surgeon explained what the ICU team would watch through the night. Wade listened to every word. When they were finally allowed inside, Eli seemed impossibly small beneath the blankets and the tubes.
Wade stopped at the doorway.
Dark lashes rested against pale cheeks. One tiny hand lay beside his face, taped around the IV. Wade had imagined many things on the drive over. None of them had prepared him for recognizing himself in a ten-month-old child — the shape of the brow, the stubborn little crease between the eyes, even in sleep.
Audrey moved to the crib and touched Eli’s foot beneath the blanket.
Wade stayed several steps away.
“You knew when you called,” he said quietly. “That I was his father.”
“Yes.”
“And before tonight?”
Audrey looked at him.
“I found out I was pregnant three weeks before your divorce was finalized.”
Wade’s face hardened with pain rather than anger.
“You had my number.”
“I called you the night I found out.”
His gaze dropped.
“I called again the next morning,” she said. “Your assistant said you were unavailable. Then your lawyer delivered instructions that all communication between us went through him.”
Wade remembered signing them. He had believed distance would keep Audrey away from the enemies circling his organization. He had never explained that. He had simply removed her from his life like a problem he could solve.
“I thought cutting contact would keep you safe.”
Audrey gave a tired, bitter laugh.
“You decided that for me.”
Before Wade could answer, a nurse entered to check Eli’s monitors.
Another man followed behind her, pushing a medication cart.
Wade watched him for two seconds. Then three.
The nurse reached for Eli’s chart. The man reached beneath the cart.
Wade crossed the room before Audrey understood why. He slammed the man’s wrist against the metal rail. A syringe dropped onto the floor. The stranger drove a shoulder into Wade’s chest, and Wade barely moved — he twisted the man’s arm behind his back and forced him against the wall.
“Security!” the nurse screamed.
The stranger kicked backward. Wade caught his leg, drove him down, and pinned him there with one knee between his shoulders.
Audrey had already moved in front of Eli’s crib.
Not away from the danger. In front of her son.
Wade noticed.
So did the stranger.
“Who sent you?” Wade asked.
The man said nothing.
Hospital security rushed through the door. Silas arrived seconds later, took one look at the syringe, and went pale.
Wade released the attacker only when three guards had him restrained. Then he picked up the syringe with a towel and looked at Audrey.
May you like
“This wasn’t a random crash.”
“I know,” she said. Her voice shook. She did not.
