Chapter 2
Eight months later
An infant’s cry broke the stillness of the maternity ward as Jack crept through the hallway. He looked toward the nursery. Should he go there first or to where Callie was? The room was less risky and he needed to see her. Assure himself she was okay.
The door was ajar so he slipped through, closing it enough to allow a sliver of light to filter in. He made out the petite shape of the sleeping woman then saw the bassinet next to her. His breath left his body. The baby was here with her.
Stepping closer, he looked down on the clear container, the blue tag proclaiming this child to be a boy. Squinting in the dim light, he read the words. Mother’s name: Callina Lansing. Baby: Jonathan.
Jonathan.She’d named the baby after him. A lump clogged his throat. A son. Damn. He had a son and wouldn’t be able to get to know him, see him grow, share in his life. This fucking world was too cruel at times.
He shouldn’t take the chance but he needed to hold him. It was vital that he touch the life he and Callie had created. He wanted—no needed—to let his child know how much he loved him. The powerful emotion emanated from his heart even as he gazed down at the tiny figure. How could love grow this fast? His first glimpse was only a second ago. Now the feeling consumed him.
Reaching down, he stroked the side of his son’s face. The baby turned his head, his bow-shaped lips opening slightly. Jack’s heart beat faster. The protective instincts that had always come into play when he was around Callie, throbbed to life and expanded as he gazed at the sweet face of his son. Heat like an electric storm surged through his blood. How could he protect this child in his current situation? He’d bring more danger upon him if he hung around. Eight months of running, trying to escape the long arm of Victor Cabrini, had shown him what hell was. Now he glimpsed a small piece of heaven.
He slid his hands under the infant, lifting him from the bed to hold him close. Jonathan barely weighed anything. His heart constricted yet again. The innocent baby scent wafted into his nostrils and he blinked back the moisture filling his eyes. The reaction was primitive and territorial. This washisson.
Their child’s eyes opened but no cry erupted so Jack relaxed. It shook him to the core knowing Callie had named the baby after him. After deserting her, she had every right to hate him. As much as he hated himself. Leaving her hadn’t been in his plans but the choice had been ripped away from him. It had taken a while to recover from the stabbing. Then the fuck-up by the Bureau had happened.
He stared again at the unfocused eyes of his son, his forehead touching that of the infant’s. Kissing his face, he absorbed every little facet he could. Who knew if he’d ever see him again?
Gazing at the sleeping woman, her innocent face relaxed in slumber, caused more pain to rip through his heart. Her dark hair, streaked with natural reds and golds, was a riot of curls that framed her peaceful face. Long lashes fanned over high cheekbones, highlighting the lovely structure of her eyes. His beautiful Calico Cat.
Had the pregnancy and labor been hard? She must have looked amazing, all round and filled with his child. Regret tore through him, anger warring with that emotion. Anger that his life had been stolen from him. He’d been fighting to get it back, but didn’t seem any closer now than he’d been eight months ago.
Jonathan let out a small mewing sound and Jack snuggled him close. “I’m right here, pal. I might not be around much but I wanted to let you know…I love you very much.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’m your dad.”
He had a son. Was now a father. But he couldn’t be a father—not in the way that it mattered. He’d swore he’d be better thanhisdad. But this—he’d be worse. As it began to sink in, his hands shook with the enormity of the situation.
A noise from Callie drew his eyes to the bed. She shouldn’t see him. It was too dangerous. Still he wasn’t ready to give up holding his son quite yet. You might as well rip his heart from his chest and throw it on the floor.
Not wanting to startle her, he sat gently on the edge of the bed.
“Callie,” he whispered.
* * * *
Callie woke, every muscle in her southern region screaming in protest. She forced her eyes open, though the fatigue fought to keep them closed. At the sight of someone sitting on the bed holding the baby, fear clutched her insides. Her breath caught when recognition dawned.
“Jack?” She kept her voice low. “What are you doing here?”
Her gaze flashed to the door then back to his unbelievably handsome face. How could he be sitting here in her hospital room after all this time? Eight long months of trying to find him, to tell him they’d created a child and it was growing inside her. He’d disappeared from her life like she hadn’t mattered but now he was back.
Her eyes burned as she glared at him. He lowered his face, kissing Jonathan on the head then looked up, his eyes shining, his expression one of agony. Oh, God. Her anger melted like chocolate in the sun. His love for the baby was already apparent. How could she be upset with him? She placed her hand on Jonathan’s head, not daring to touch Jack.
“You shouldn’t be here. Victor was around earlier. He hasn’t stopped his search for you. He’s vowed to find Angelo’s killer, his chauffeur,Matt Waters. You.”
Jack’s arms tightened around her son. Their son. She wanted to take the baby in her arms for comfort, her comfort. Jack hadn’t been around, hadn’t been there to help her through this pregnancy or the delivery. She knew why, but it didn’t make her anger lessen. Because of him she was in a precarious place with Victor Cabrini.
But Jack was here now, staring at their child as if he’d never seen anything more precious. The tears playing in the corners of his eyes testified to his grief. She couldn’t deny him a few minutes with their son, but it was delusional to think everything would be great and they could start playing house together.
“Victor’s not here right now,” Jack pointed out, his voice gruff. “It’s three in the morning, Calico.”
Warmth flooded her body as he said her pet name. He’d only ever used it when they were alone together.
“I made it a point not to be seen coming in here. Had to see you…and the baby. Apologize.”
“What are you apologizing for? That you left me playing your little spy games? That you didn’t get me out of this mess even though you and your FBI pals said you would? Or for enticing me and getting me pregnant to begin with?”
