“That Evan was sick?”
Her nod was shaky. “We didn’t know anything was wrong until Evan was two days old. He was this perfect, tiny thing. Small. So small. But the doctors didn’t seem to be all that concerned. Until the nurse listened to his heart on his final check when we were being discharged from the hospital.”
Her voice trembled, taken back to that day. “They flew him to Memphis to the big children’s hospital there. He had his first heart surgery when he was five days old. Five days old.”
Hope clutched her chest. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life. They tried to repair his abnormality, hoping it would be enough for him not to need a transplant, but they didn’t give us a lot of reassurance that it would. They told us to prepare for the worst. They told us his condition was typically caused by a genetic defect, and that if he did live, then we should expect it to also present in other ways.”
Images flashed. My greatest loss. My biggest regret.
I sucked in air against the memories, trying not to compare the two. But it was so fucking hard. So close. Too similar. Still, it didn’t seem to fucking matter because all I wanted was to move closer, hold her, take the turmoil away.
“Hope,” I murmured, shifting farther around so I could see her better, see the brilliant love that shined on her face.
Really, I didn’t even have to look.
Because I could feel it.
Bounding from the walls. She gave a soggy smile. “I didn’t accept what they said, Kale. I knew my baby would be just fine. That he would grow and love and live. And that the world might see him differently, but he was exactly how he was supposed to be. I won’t lie and say it was easy, because those were the most difficult, terrifying months and years of my life. But never—not once—did I give up hope.”
“And that hope shines right out of him,” I said.
Her face pinched. “But his father . . . his father didn’t get the perfect son he demanded. He refused to be tested to see if he carried the gene. Telling me it was bullshit. That we should let him go and try again.”
The last tore from her throat on a cry. On the hurt and wounds the bastard had inflicted.
That rage.
It blistered.
Blinking through her tears, she dropped her gaze, her chest heaving, before looking back at me.
Destroyed.
Her expression was nothing but desolation.
“I took Evan away because he wanted me to sign a DNR. If Evan falls ill again, he doesn’t want us to fight to save him. I can’t let that happen. I did what I had to do.” She begged the last. Like she was pleading for me to understand.
I choked out this sound that verged somewhere between horror and the threat of revenge.
“Fuck,” I muttered, trying to process. To make sense of what all of this really meant.
Monster.
That vile bastard was nothing but a monster. I hated him.
But I didn’t know how to say it. How I would get out of it if I stepped in the middle of it. But that was what I wanted to do. I wanted to get in the ring and beat the piece of shit bloody.
Her expression shifted into one of stark vulnerability. “But you’ve probably already read all of this in his records, haven’t you, Dr. Bryant?” She said it like she wanted to attempt a tease, before she fell back into somberness. “You probably understand it better than I do.”
I let a small smile tweak the corner of my mouth. “Well, I knew some of it. But his records never said anything about his father being a douchebag who needs to be taught a few lessons about being a man.”
She stumbled over a small laugh. “Well, I wish they did. I could use it in court.”
“Done,” I said, forcing a grin before I sobered again, studying her expression.
“So, really, he’s just doing all of this to threaten you? To force you into doing what he wants?”
He wanted her.
But not Evan.
What a sick fucker.
A tremor raced her throat when she swallowed. “I have no idea what he really wants, Kale. I don’t even think he knows. And the only thing I want is him to leave us alone. Let us live.”
I took her face between my palms again, making sure she was looking directly into my eyes before I said, “You are, Hope. You are living and giving your son the best kind of life. He’s the happiest kid I’ve ever seen.”
“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” she whispered. I did my best to tame the overwhelming feeling that raced my veins.
Possession
Greed.
Not because I wanted to control her the way that prick tried to keep her under his thumb but because the need to protect her was almost a riot where it clamored to take hold inside me.