The Sinner (The St. Clair Brothers 1)

She nodded and nudged me out of the way to get to Kylie, placing the tablet on the bed. “How are you feeling, dear?”

The doctor’s lab coat said Dr. L. Patel, embroidered on the right breast in navy blue thread. Efficient as one would expect, she checked the machines, somehow making sense of the information when all I saw were squiggly lines and a bunch of numbers. Kylie sniffed and accepted the tissue offered by her brother.

“Fine. I’m tired, but fine.”

“No pain?” Dr. Patel asked.

“No.”

The doctor nodded and gently palpated Kylie’s abdomen. My eye spasmed hard and my anxiety shot through the roof. The desperate need to know what the fuck was happening overrode any common courtesy.

“Excuse me? Can you tell us what the hell is going on?” I blurted. “Why is she here? Is the…” I faltered, took a deep breath, and pushed on. “Is the baby okay?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Calloway lean toward the doctor. He wanted answers as well.

Dr. Patel picked up the tablet to make notes or what the fuck it was that doctors did. “The baby is fine. Ms. Calloway experienced cramps and bleeding and called 911. An ultrasound diagnosed marginal placental previa.” I stared at her. She smiled and explained. “It means the placenta is a little too close to the cervix.”

“What does that mean?” Calloway asked, his gaze darting back and forth between the doctor and his sister.

“It means we will have to monitor Ms. Calloway carefully for the duration of her pregnancy. The condition usually resolves as the uterus grows, but sometimes it persists, in which case she will have to schedule a cesarean section for the birth.”

I reached for Kylie and took her hand again, needing to touch her. Fear like I’d never known, greater than when I used to grab Rémy and hide in a closet, tuck my brother behind me, and listen as our father drunkenly tore the house apart searching for us.

Kylie glanced up at me through damp lashes. Her expression was pleading, begging me to make everything better. Knowing Kylie suffered and there wasn’t a thing I could do, sucked. But the fact that I was the one to cause that suffering, damn near killed me.

“Thank you doctor,” Calloway said. He came around the bed and shook the doctor’s hand. I think I did, too, my memory started to get fuzzy around the time I entered the room. The next thing I knew, Dr. Patel was gone and Calloway was talking to me.

“I need a moment alone with my sister.” I stood there, numb, but… not. Every inch of my body hurt, though the pain didn’t quite register. “St. Clair!”

I flinched. “Huh? What?”

“Can you…? I’m asking if you’ll give me a few minutes alone with Ky.” He was asking? Not simply shoving me out the door and locking it behind me? I checked with Kylie, who nodded.

“All right. I’ll just, um, be outside.” I glanced at Kylie again.

“Can you get me something to drink?” she asked. “Maybe a sweet tea?”

“Okay.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what? Make it unsweet.”

“Sure, no problem,” I hurriedly agreed. I’d bring her anything she asked for. Tea, change of clothes, Ferrari… whatever. “Uh, Calloway?” Calloway tore his attention from his sister to glower at me. “Um, did you want something? Coffee?”

Stunned, Calloway’s irritation melted and he nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good. Coffee. Black, thanks.”

I left the room and found the elevators. Alone inside the small metal box, I slumped against the wall and fisted my hair. If anything were to happen to Kylie… to my… to our kid. I wasn’t certain I could ever claw my way out of the destruction.

I had been led to believe I was strong. That because of everything I’d been through in my tumultuous twenty-six years on this mostly miserable planet, I was tough, impervious to something as insignificant as heartache.

I was wrong. No one was immune to life’s cruel twists and turns. Even Superman has a weakness.

Kylie Calloway is my own brand of kryptonite. The worst part was the overwhelming helplessness. The inability to erase all the negative shit. The only thing I could do was hope and pray that not only would Kylie and the baby be okay, but that I would come out the other side, not as the beaten and destroyed man I’d become, but someone better. Someone worthy of Kylie and the baby, worthy of their love and deserving of a place in their lives and hearts.

Kryptonite or not, I can’t live without her. I’d be there for her, do my best to get through the pregnancy a painlessly as possible, even if it led to my complete and utter annihilation.

For a chance at having Kylie and a family, it was a price well worth paying.

Kylie

Rocco picked up a chair, placed it next to the bed, and sat. It creaked when he lowered his weight into it, but surprisingly, the thing held up. I chewed on my lip as I sorted through the myriad of emotions I still had to process through. Seeing the blood and feeling faint, calling 911… everything happened too fast for me to do anything bu