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Authors: Ahren Sanders

Hotshot (45 page)

BOOK: Hotshot
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Maria giggles while my mom snorts, apparently amused at his bossiness.

“Chair,” I mumble, sitting down in a huff.

He whisks me through the hospital, whistling and humming the whole way, without a care in the world. Meanwhile, I want to vomit. When we arrive at the NICU, it’s apparent Shaw has worked his magic. We have an entire room to ourselves that looks more like a comfortable living area than a hospital room. A woman I recognize is waiting for us. She has several specialties, including PRN work on the oncology floor a year ago. Her smile is genuine as he wheels me to a large recliner.

“What have you done?” I ask as he helps me up and sits down, positioning me in my normal spot between his legs.

“What I wanted,” is his only answer as he motions to the nurse.

I watch in awe as she lifts the baby boy out of his little dome and walks over to us.

Shaw moves his arm under my uninjured elbow, and she places the baby in our arms. My heart lurches in my throat, and I’m overcome with emotions. Tears spring to my eyes at the first glance. He’s so beautiful.

“Wow,” is all I can force out.

“He hit thirty-four weeks today and now weighs a little over five pounds,” Shaw explains over my shoulder. “As a preemie, he’s surprised us all. Besides a little jaundice, he’s progressing excellently.”

“I’m so happy for that.”

I run my fingertips along the baby’s forehead and inhale, loving the newborn smell. His eyes flutter and open, revealing a hazy deep blue. He’s swaddled tight, and I want to rip it open and inspect every inch of him, ensuring he’s as perfect as he looks after such a dramatic birth.

All anxiety from earlier is gone as I stare at this perfect child.

“He’s really beautiful.”

“I need you to help me name him.”

Shock registers at the statement, and I bend my elbow to nuzzle the baby closer. “I can’t. That’s for you and Sasha to do.”

“Well, seeing as I’m still not sane enough to speak to her, I’d like to discuss it with you and then tell her.”

“She’s not going to like that.”

“Considering I’ve been trying to figure out a way to charge her with attempted manslaughter, she’ll agree to almost anything.”

“Okay, what do you like? Let’s start there.”

“Something strong, like him.”

“You sure you don’t want to use your dad’s name?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

I stare at the now sleeping baby and run options through my mind. “What about Brayden? Brayden Bennett has a very nice ring to it.”

As if scripted, the baby squirms a bit, letting out a hushed coo then settles.

“I love it.” He kisses the side of my neck.

We sit together for a while, watching Brayden sleep and quietly discussing his progress. The nurse brings us a small bottle, and he wakes up to eat, sucking the formula down like a pro. Shaw has to adjust us , to help me, when it’s time to burp him, but it feels so natural and so right. Together, we love on him, the three of us snuggled tight.

I almost refuse when the nurse comes back and tells us they need to take him for a while to check his vitals and get him back under the light. It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue that human warmth is best, but I keep my mouth shut.

Shaw senses my unease and asks for a few more minutes. It’s not really a request but more of a demand.

“When can we come back?”

“Tonight. I’ve got it worked out with Sasha for separate visitations.”

“But I’m going home tonight!”

“No, you aren’t. You’re not even going to think about discharge for another day.”

I start to protest, but he silences me with a finger to my lips. “No arguments.”

He starts to wiggle under me and brings his other hand up, taking my left hand and sliding my ring back on my finger.

“It’s time you get this back.”

This time when the nurse comes in, Shaw helps me hand over Brayden then lifts me back to my wheelchair. The ride back to my room is completely opposite of the first trip. I raise my head and smile at the people we pass, giving small waves. There is no bundle of nerves or anxiety. I’m bursting with love.

I know what I have to do, because in the last hour, my family grew. And I have to clear the air in order for any of us to move on.

I apply some lip gloss and fluff my hair, dressed in another one of Shaw’s extravagant pajama sets. I look in the small bathroom mirror and give myself a little pep talk.

“He’s going to kill you, then he’s going to kill me,” Claire whines as I sit in the wheelchair.

“He’ll get over it,” I try to assure her.

“Why are we doing this again?”

“I’ve explained this already! We have to hurry. He’ll be back in an hour, and I want this shit over with.”

It took a lot of begging on my part, but I finally convinced Shaw to go home and shower, change, and maybe rest in a real bed. He left Claire in charge and promised to be back by nine. So I have little time left to accomplish my mission.

Claire rolls me to the maternity wing and bitches under her breath the whole way. When we get to Sasha’s room, I stand, refusing to let her see me in a wheelchair. It’s my time to show up unannounced and catch her off guard, and I don’t want any perceived weakness.

I knock and hear her call out to come in. Claire stays close as we walk in together.

Surprise and shock register on Sasha’s face, then she roams her eyes up and down my body. There’s still a lot of visible bruising, not to mention the brace and sling. She, on the other hand, shows no signs of being in a car accident or having a baby.

“What are you doing here?” she questions me skeptically.

“We need to talk.”

“Does Ren know you’re here?”

“Absofuckinglutely not. Pretty sure he would have tied her to the bed if he knew what she was thinking,” Claire answers for me.

“Figures,” she grumbles.

“Sasha, I’m the only one who can fix this.”

“Not sure this can be fixed. Did you know your doting fiancée has put in a complaint with the Bar Association, claiming I’m psychotic?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Did you know he’s had Caldwell serve papers with intent to sue, threatening to disintegrate my father’s entire firm?”

“Yes.”

“Are you also aware he’s trying to trump charges with the police of attempted manslaughter on two accounts, claiming I intentionally tried to kill you and Brayden?”

“Well aware of that, too.”

Claire snickers, causing Sasha to glare.

“Do you also know he wants full custody of my baby boy?” Her voice is shaky.

“I’m going to talk to him. I’m the only person he’ll listen to right now. He’s so blinded in his revulsion of you, he can’t see straight. The only time he’s not raving mad is when he’s with Brayden. Every time he looks at me, he’s reminded of what you did.”

“I’m well aware of his hostility and fury. He’s made it quite clear to my family that he runs the show. I’m not even allowed to hold or feed my son without a medical professional in the room. My parents are being shunned by everyone. No one will even give us a real update until after they’ve spoken to Ren. I’m the mother!”

“I think it’s time you opened your envious eyes and see what could have happened.”

“But you’re fine! Look at you!”

“Are you serious, Sasha? We could have died. One inch to the right, and the barrier we hit could have flipped my car. One more degree against that car could have injured someone else. Your motives and intentions could have killed us all. It’s time you took responsibility and understand you are lucky right now.”

“Lucky? You call this lucky? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted it to be like this!” She starts to lose her cool, throwing her hands around, and I finally notice the sterile, bare, and bland room.

There are no balloons, flower arrangements, or cards of congratulations. There’s no sign of anyone wishing her happiness on the birth of her baby. Whereas, my room is filled, almost floor to ceiling, with all of that and more. Shaw’s clients, my co-workers, and even Nick’s entire football team has sent dozens and dozens of presents and well-wishes to us.

I don’t have an ounce of pity for her.

“We know what you did. Hiring a private investigator and playing on Shaw’s emotions for all those weeks. Bribing the hospital administrator in Charlotte to give me a full time job to take me away. And finally, using Shaw’s focus on his son to try and find a way to make him stay with you.”

Her eyes grow wide as she sucks in a deep breath. Claire gives a combination hiss and snort, loudly.

“If you know all this, what exactly are you doing here?”

“I’m going to tell him we’re dropping his ludicrous idea to put you in jail.”

“What about my father, my career, Brayden?” There’s a sliver of hopefulness in her words.

“I can’t make any promises, he’s dead set on ruining you. The only thing that matters in that scenario to me is Brayden. Can you promise me that you will stop your explosive antics and threats to Shaw? Can you put your feelings for him and hatred for me aside? Because that’s the only way this will work.”

She stares at me closely, and I watch the defeat dawn on her. She’s been beaten, her life is in shambles, and I’m her only chance.

She may have his baby, but she’ll never have him. Finally, she realizes.

Her eyes rake up and down me once again and land on my engagement ring, then travel up, taking in my expensive silk robe and haggard appearance. The room goes still as she locks eyes with me.

“There’s no more hope.”

“Not for you and Shaw. Not for Maria and Seth who can’t even say your name. And especially not for Mathis and Nicky who can’t stand the air you breathe. Now’s the time to focus on your son, getting well, and finding a way to raise him in a loving home. Shaw and I won’t settle for anything less than that. You’ve lost your marker. Shaw’s done with you, I’m the only hope you have right now to calm him down.”

She nods and her chest starts to tremble I watch in awe as tears stream down her cheeks. It’s amazing to me she’s capable of defeated emotions.

“I’m really sorry, Lizbeth, and I can’t figure out why in the hell you would be here to help me. Thank you.”

“Don’t take my kindness lightly, Sasha. I’m doing this for Brayden, but if you fuck up ever again, in any way, I won’t stop Shaw’s wrath. This is my one and only favor I’ll ever offer. Get a life, get a grip, and for God’s sake, get over your shit.” I don’t say another word, but spin and walk out, needing the support of the wheelchair.

It wasn’t the apology I’ve craved for all these years, but it was still an apology. And I’m completely at peace with that.

Now, I need to hold up my end of the bargain, which won’t be easy.

Claire wheels me back praising me the whole way. She stops short about three feet from my door and clutches onto my good shoulder. She doesn’t have to say anything, because I sense it, too. There’s a heat in the air rolling out of my open door. My stomach flips a few times as I stand, and she helps me walk into the hospital room.

Shaw’s leaning against the window seal, his arms and legs crossed, staring at the doorway with fire flaming in his eyes. The hair on my arms prickles under the intensity of his glare.

I tense, Claire holding my elbow with a trembling hand. She’s heard many stories, but never felt the Shaw Bennett rage. She’s about to.

“Lizbeth.” His tone is sharp and intimidating.

“Shaw, you’re back early,” slips from my mouth.

Bad choice of words.

“I’m sure that’s a surprise, considering you practically forced me to go home. Never did I imagine my sweet, caring, and loving fiancée was calculating a plan to confront the very bitch who nearly killed her!”

“Stop being so dramatic,” I hiss. “And lower your voice.”

Once again, wrong thing to say.

His eyes cut to Claire. “I think you should go. I need to speak to Bizzy, privately.”

Her hand tenses. “I’m not leaving her here with you if you’re going to yell at her.”

“It’s okay, Claire. Just help me get into bed. He’s not going to yell at me anymore, because he’s going to listen to what I have to say.”

We start to move, but Shaw is at my side in a flash, lifting me gently and motioning to Claire to pull the sheets back. Anger radiates from him, but he handles me like crystal, situating the pillows to prop my brace and cushion my ribs. Then he brushes his lips across my bruised cheek tenderly.

BOOK: Hotshot
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