The Brink (Unbroken Raine Falling 3)

Deadly? Liam staggered at that news. “Where are Gwyneth and the baby now?”

“Kyle is with a nurse having blood drawn. Mom was agitated and disrupting treatment, so security escorted her to the waiting room.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Liam shook his head.

Beck rubbed at his chin. “Just for the record, I haven’t decided yet if your ex is merely a drama queen or just fucking crazy.”

“As a loon, mate. I’m all but convinced I never really knew her.”

“Well, she’s a looker. I’ll give her that much, but I wouldn’t fuck her—and that’s saying something.” Beck grinned.

It was. “Do you think Kyle will be all right?”

“Honestly?” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Poor little guy. And I thought I was having a rough time of it.” He raked a hand through his hair, feeling as if he’d repeated the motion all day.

“And it will probably get rougher. His doctors will likely insist that Kyle get a barium bottle to test his upper gastrointestinal tract. It won’t be pleasant, but the test is vital if there’s a blockage.”

“So we could be here for a bit, then?”

“I’m thinking so. I’ve pulled strings where I can, but it’s a busy time, and the labs are backed up. The tests simply take a while. And this is where I leave you. Just carry on to the end and turn right. You’ll see the waiting room. Gwyneth’s in there. I need to get out of here and sleep, at least for a few hours.” The doctor clapped him on the shoulder. “Later, man.”

“Thanks, Beck. I’m in your debt.”

As the other man waved him off and disappeared into an elevator, Liam found the waiting room. He pushed the door open and spotted Gwyneth pacing by the window and wringing her hands, obviously distraught.

When she turned again and caught sight of him, she rushed over in a soiled T-shirt and jeans, then threw herself in his arms. She smelled terrible.

“Oh, Liam. Thank god you’re here. I’m so worried and fatigued. I’ve had no idea what to do, the name of a doctor to call. I would have rung you, but after this afternoon, I didn’t think… Then that surly man came…” She looked close to dissolving into tears.

“Steady, Gwyneth. Take a seat and tell me about it,” he soothed as he took her elbow and led her to one of the chairs in a corner.

There was only one other person in the room, but zero privacy.

Liam waited until she finally settled herself into a chair before dragging another to face her. He dropped into it. “I’m glad that Beck stopped by his condo and could help.”

“Yes, I am, too. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” Gwyneth started wringing her hands again. “I’m just so worried.”

He laid his palm over her fingers and squeezed. “Tell me what’s happened with the lad.”

Gwyneth sniffled. “After you left, Kyle developed a fever. He’d been listless and fussy most of the afternoon. But when he woke from his sleep, his nappy was dry. He felt hot. Next thing I knew, he started vomiting green everywhere. I-I didn’t expect it. He doesn’t eat much more than formula, so I didn’t know…” The tears started up again. “I tried everything I could think of. I rocked him. I sang to him. I wrapped him in cool cloths. I even tried to smash up crackers and feed him some. I’d just decided to call an ambulance when Dr. Beckman walked in. You know the rest.”

“Crackers?” Liam looked at his ex-wife as if she finally had lost her mind. “That’s what you thought to give a vomiting baby?”

“I thought it would soothe his stomach. It works for me. I didn’t know what else to try. What do I know about babies?”

Maybe the truth would finally come out… “You are his mother, aren’t you?”

She avoided his probing stare, reaching for a box of tissues on the table beside her, and blew her nose daintily. Back ramrod straight, she flew out of the chair to the rubbish bin. Rather than return to her seat, she resumed pacing.

“Gwyneth?” Liam refused to let her ignore the question.

“I-I…” She turned back to look at him, a flush staining her cheeks. She gave an exhausted sigh. “Liam…”

With just one word, Gwyneth asked him for mercy he didn’t feel.

He cocked a brow at her. “Tell me.”

With slow, reluctant steps, she crossed the room to him again. “Oh, bugger it all.”

He remembered hearing exactly this tone of voice after he’d caught her cheating. His hackles rose. “Sit. Explain. Now.”

She took her seat again, squirming gingerly to avoid sitting on the cheek where he’d paddled her, and reached out to pat his knee. Their gazes tangled, and she must have seen that he’d reached the end of his patience.

Gwyneth drew her hand back. “I’d like to start by saying I never meant this situation to get quite so out of hand. But…Kyle isn’t your son.”