Dr. Martin had barely parked before I was at the driver’s side door.
The tall, slender doctor climbed out with his hazel eyes wide. “Sam, I just got off the phone with Dr. Vieira. He’s filled me in. Layla is stable.”
My legs were about to give out. “She is?” I shouldn’t have left the infirmary.
He placed a gentle hand on my back. “Breathe. We’re going to do the C-section now.” He gave me a nudge. “I need to head in.”
As we walked at a brisk pace past Petty Officer Dawson, I asked, “Is she going to make it?” I wasn’t naïve enough to believe he could give me a definitive answer. I just wanted his thoughts.
“I can’t answer that, Sam. What I will tell you is that in a normal pregnancy, carrying quads wouldn’t be an issue. But Layla has two things not in her favor—four supernatural babies, and they’re growing faster than humans. Her body just can’t handle it. Though, up until now, she’s done great.”
After an elevator ride that seemed like we were on a slow-moving train to nowhere, Dr. Martin and I hurried to the operating room.
Before he went in, he regarded me with warm hazel eyes. “We will do our best. Try to stay calm. We’ll update you as soon as we can.” Then he ducked into the operating room.
When the door opened, I saw a scrub station and beyond that a window into the operating room. I was desperate to be by Layla’s side. She needed to hear my voice, feel my touch, and know that she wasn’t alone.
Tripp came into the hall, tired bronze eyes searching mine. “I’m here for you, man.”
We exchanged a quick hug. “Thanks. I’m not sure I’ll be good company.”
“I’m a good listener,” he said.
Tripp had always been there for me. When I first turned vampire, he’d been my bodyguard, protecting and watching over me. He’d also been my teacher, schooling me on the ways of the vampire world and what it took to become a Vampire Navy SEAL. From there, our relationship developed into a close friendship.
As we stood in the middle of a brightly lit hallway with doors punched into the walls on both sides, I filled him in on what had happened right before Layla turned pale and started having pains. By the time I was done, the anger, frustration, and heartache multiplied a thousandfold.
I was a second away from ramming my fist into the supply closet door several feet away from me. Doc would hate it if I ruined his spanking-new wing. “I want to murder Jordyn. What the fuck happened?” I had to talk about anything other than my wife.
I began pacing, a smile tugging at the edges of my mouth as a sliver of happiness overshadowed the fury coursing through me. Layla, my wife. I rolled that around on my tongue once, then twice. It was still foreign to me that I was married. I wasn’t complaining in the least. What was I saying? I couldn’t believe I was about to become a dad either.
“What’s with the cheeky grin?” Tripp asked as I wore a hole in the white-speckled tiled floor.
I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Can you believe I’m married and about to have kids?”
He shook his sandy-blond head of hair that was bound in a ponytail. “Nope. I remember when you were green around the gills and angry as fuck when you turned vampire. Now look at you. A man who wants to conquer the world. A man of substance.”
Choking out a laugh, I stopped pacing. “You have your concept of me wrong, dude. I’m powerful. That’s it. I’m not rich, and I certainly don’t have influence.”
Tripp massaged his shoulder. “How wrong you are. When you walk into a room, you exude authority.”
“You mean, people fear me?”
“And respect you,” he said. “You’re just like your father, and that is a compliment,” he was quick to add.
For two beats, silence traveled through the long hallway.
My father and I had had a tumultuous relationship early on when I’d given up my humanity, yet I now saw a lot of him in me.
“Anyway, we got off the topic of Jordyn.” I anchored myself against the wall, then slid down until I was sitting on the floor, knees high, forearms resting on them. “Layla said Jordyn was trying to skirt past the guard outside the prison.” When I’d gone to the window, I didn’t see her.
Tripp joined me, kicking out his legs, then he crossed his ankles. “She pulled the alarm as a distraction.”
“She’s been off lately,” I said. “Junior’s death messed with her head. Not to mention, she’s itching for revenge against Fred Emery.”
“We’re moving him to the prison in Boston. He won’t talk, and until he does, he’ll have a home with us.”
“You know Adam is going to come for his brother,” I said, hoping I was right. “We need to take him out. That’s the only way we can slow down this war.” Adam wasn’t the only one on our list. Roman needed to be dealt with as well.
