I clench my jaw. “I can send someone to deal with it.”
“It needs a personal touch. Anika told me how you pulled the final deal off with Juan José, and I need a similar sort of deal doing at the docks. If we can secure this, I can have your lorries picking it straight off the ship. No customs, less risk. So, I’ve arranged a meeting for you and Marco Reid, along with Anika, this coming Friday.”
Diesel’s eyes widen, and I feel the anger rising in my chest. “Impossible,” I snap.
“Make it happen, Kade.” He disconnects.
“Fuck,” I hiss, running my hands through my hair. “I just want to see Eden without this shit touching her.”
“It doesn’t have to get anywhere near her, Pres,” Diesel says with a sigh. “Go see her, nip off on Friday, do the deal, and go back to her.”
“That’s if she’ll even entertain me at all,” I mutter.
“Only one way to find out,” he replies, patting me on the back.
CHAPTER FOUR
EDEN
Martha stares at the scan pictures with a huge smile on her face. “I can’t believe you’re growing an actual human,” she says, sniffling into a tissue. She’s feeling much better than she did first thing and decided to meet us at the pub for a celebratory lemonade.
Pete takes the picture and peers closer. “It was surreal to see it moving around,” he tells her.
“And it’s only the size of an avocado,” Tom adds, and we all turn to him. “What?” he asks with a grin. “I looked it up online.”
“We’re all so excited,” Mrs. Wainwright cuts in. “It’s been a while since we had a local baby.”
Martha hugs the scan photo to her chest. “I’m going to frame this. I don’t care if that’s weird.”
Tom raises his lemonade like it’s a pint. “To the tiniest member of the village!”
Everyone cheers, glasses clinking, the little pub erupting with warmth. Even a few regulars glance over and raise their drinks in silent congratulations. It makes my throat tighten in the nicest way.
“I can knit,” Mrs. Wainwright adds proudly. “Booties, blankets, little hats. Tell me colours. Actually, don’t tell me. I’ll make all of them.”
Tom leans forward, animated. “Does this mean I get to be Uncle Tom?”
“You can’t just appoint yourself,” Pete says, rolling his eyes.
“Why not? I’d be great. I’ll buy them their first pair of trainers.”
Martha nudges me. “Look at you smiling, Eden. You deserve this so much.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, my hand drifting to my stomach without thinking. “It suddenly feels real today.”
“Of course, it does,” Mrs. Wainwright says softly. “And this baby is already so loved.”
Pete lifts the scan photo again. “I still can’t believe it waved. It definitely waved.”
“It didn’t wave,” Tom corrects. “It’s too tiny. It probably twitched.”
Martha gasps dramatically. “Don’t ruin the magic, Tom. Itwavedand that’s that.”
We all laugh. It’s the kind of laugh that loosens something tight inside my ribs, the kind I’d forgotten I was capable of.
Then Martha’s laugh dies mid-breath. It’s sudden, like the air was sucked right from her. The smile slips from her face, replaced with a grimace as her eyes widen, fixed on something,or someone,behind me.
My stomach drops, and I already know I don’t want to turn around. I don’t want to see whatever’s sucked the joy from mysister. Because I know there’s only one person who’d give her that haunted look.
