Tripp adjusted the empty sheath around his leg. “Agreed. But he’s in bed with the U.S. government. So we have to be smart about our strategy. We can’t afford to have the entire human government on our asses. The war would be even bigger.”
Icy claws crept up my spine. “I’m sure they’ve seen my mug and Hawk’s on the news. I have a feeling they might be breathing down our necks with or without Adam in the picture.”
He nodded. “Possible. We have work to do to prepare for every scenario. Right now, Layla is your priority along with your kids. You and I know they’ll be part of this looming war.”
Not something I wanted to hear, but the truth was a hard nut to swallow sometimes.
“Circling back to Jordyn—where is she now?”
“In a cell next to Fred Emery,” he said. “If she wants to release her anger, she can yell at him from there.”
I jerked my head at one of my best buds and superior officer, deciding if I should laugh or not. “You’re serious?”
A muscle ticked in his unshaven jaw. “As a fucking heart attack. We’re not tiptoeing around the Aberdeens, Sam. I had to deal with Rianne when she was here. Jordyn has been great up until she returned from New Jersey. And you’re not going to like this, but I see a lot of Rianne in Jordyn. We’re done dealing with Aberdeen shit. No offense to Layla. She’s not like her sisters though. Sometimes I wonder if they were born from the same parents.”
Layla’s sisters had brown hair, not auburn, but that wasn’t a reason to think they weren’t blood related.
Another round of silence dropped over us until a baby’s cry resonated.
I was on my feet, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Did you hear that?” I blew out a breath.
Tripp rose, eyes wide. “Boy? Girl?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t tell.
Then another cry.
I slapped a hand on my chest.Fuck! This is really happening. I’m about to see my kids.
I lowered my gaze to my boots, listening intently, itching to plow through the door.
“Her heart rate is dropping,” a nurse said.
“Come on, Layla. Stay with us.” Panic colored Jo’s tone.
As I jerked up my head, Tripp flew to the door that led into the scrub station. He knew me well.
He held up his hands. “You are not going in there.”
“Wanna bet?” I marched toward him. “Get out of my way.” My voice didn’t sound like my own as nerves rattled in every word. My elemental powers vibrated in my arms, primed to wreak havoc on Tripp.
He pushed me against the wall across from the scrub station door. “Look at me, Sam. Your heart is racing too fucking fast. Breathe.”
Another baby cried, and I froze. Was that the third one? But what about Layla?
I banged my head against the wall as Tripp shielded me. He was powerful, but I had him beat.
Besides, there was another way in. The patient entrance into the operating room was through a set of double doors located halfway down the hallway to my left.
“She’s flatlining,” one nurse said.
Shards of broken glass coated my insides, gouging into my flesh. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t lose Layla. I would die right beside her.
“Crash cart now!” Doc shouted.
That broken glass cut deeper and deeper, tears on the precipice of rushing out like a waterfall after a hard rain as I glanced down the hall.
Tripp followed my line of sight as he pressed his hand into my chest, fastening me to the wall, anticipating my next move, no doubt. But he couldn’t hold me back.
