“Did you tell her she had to come?"
“You think I'd need to? It's a Crue family emergency. Besides, you pay her a fucking fortune to be on retainer as a babysitter.”
Sasha rubs his forehead. “It's good she's coming."
“Yeah, so stealing my sister's babysitting time right out from under me was a smart call on your part. Even if you did both stab me in the back.”
“You don't need Baby G. You'd leave your kid with anyone. Good thing your wife has some standards."
Trick smirks. “I'd never suggest a babysitter I haven't vetted.”
“What's the vetting criteria?" Sasha fires back. “Has a pulse? Knows how to work a microwave to heat milk?”
It's so good that Trick is here, I realize. Not just for his talent at pulling strings and calling in favors. But after so many years, Anvil and Trick have a routine of roasting each other that's agood distraction. C would not be able to do this as well under these circumstances.
The double doors open, and a nurse starts toward us.
Anvil’s expression immediately sobers, and he holds Irina out to me.
“No, dada! Me,” Irina protests, grabbing for him.
I pull her to me, cooing that I need a hug.
“I’ll be back soon.” Anvil kisses the top of Irina's head and then stalks over to meet the nurse.
Trick and I watch him disappear behind the electronic doors.
ANVIL
It’s close to dawn.I’m hunched over the bed, holding Raven’s hand as I have been all night. Her fingers move against my calloused palm, and my head rises. Her eyes open, and it’s the single best moment of my life to date.
There was no guarantee she would ever wake up again. But here she is, back among the living.
“I’m here, Raven. I’m right here,” I whisper, reaching above the bed to press the call button.
Her head turns back and forth. The tube hurts her throat. I can tell by the way she grimaces as she tries to talk.
“Wait. They’ll be here soon to help you. It’s all right.”
When the doctors and nurses hustle in, I stand, giving her hand one last squeeze before moving out of their way. I know the drill.
Time passes in a vacuum. It seems to take no time and a long time for them to get her free of the tube, so she can talk.
My name is the first thing she says.
“Sasha?” she rasps.
I want to shoulder my way in, the way I normally would, but these people clawed her back from death’s grip and let me sit with her all night. So I’m more careful than usual.
When she can see me, her face crumples. “The baby? Did she?—?”
“Alive,” I say, nodding. “She’s all right.”
Tears spill over her lashes. “Really?”
She remembers the things they said just before rolling her out of the room to the operating suite. The baby’s heart-rate was dangerously low. They had to get her out quickly or she wouldn’t make it.
Someone would’ve told me if anything had changed, so I don’t hesitate to say emphatically, “She’s fine.”
