Page 110 of Seizing Control: Part Two

On unsteady legs, I do as I’m told. It’s obvious that Cherub doesn’t have the energy to hold our son, so I bend low and balance his weight in my arms. Once I have Garrett angled within her reach, she strokes his cheek and lets out what sounds like a sigh of relief that comes from the depths of her soul when he blinks up at her before snagging a fistful of her knotted hair.

“The babies?”

“They’re in the NICU,” I tell my wife. It’s the abbreviated version of a truth I don’t want to tell her. The decision I made was urgent, but it’s not going to sit well with Cherub. Still, I don’t skip a beat as I continue, “Healthy, but needin’ some extra attention.”

“Pair o’ fighters like their mumma.” My mother lays her hand on the middle of my back as she comes to stand next to me. “A baby boy and a baby girl, mo ulaidh bheag... you were extra busy growing two babies.”

Across the room, I see Sander’s eyes widen.

Seems I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know Cherub was carrying twins.

The elephant in the room grows to epic proportions, and it’s Nate who finally poses the question that’s on the tip of almost everyone’s tongue. “So, Venom... you faked your death?”

Silence dawns.

My wife bites down on her bottom lip. In unison, Lazarus and I brush our fingers over the flesh to make her release it before she can bleed. Her attention flits between the two of us, then she runs out of energy in the next instant. Pale faced and slack-lipped, her eyes roll back in her head. Lazarus hooks his arm around her neck to protect her from harm.

“Fuck.” I hit the nurse call button as my duchess slumps against her pillow.

“It’s normal.” Mumma pats my back. “She’s exhausted.”

My mind speeds at a hundred miles a minute as I watch everyone rally around my wife.

Lazarus smooths her hair from her shoulder, then takes hold of her hand. Hunter slides a chair over to him, and he sinks into it. Sander urges his brothers toward the exit while Nadia checks her vitals, engaging the pressure cuff around her arm, then tapping away on the tablet that contains Cherub’s chart. As a unit, my parents move Garrett’s pram closer to me. An uneasiness filters through me as I witness everyone else jumping into action while I’m frozen to the spot with my son clutched to my chest.

I’m out of my depth.

My head’s under water, and I don’t know if I have the strength to kick off the bottom.

“Sit,” Hunter tells me as he carries the other visitor’s chair in my direction. “I’ll have someone bring you a coffee.”

“We can take Garrett?” Nadia offers. “I’ll sleep in Cherub’s bed so he can stay in his crib.”

“No.” I shake my head once I’m seated. “He’s stayin’ with me—” Lazarus stiffens, and I amend my statement. “Us. We’ll look after him tonight.”

“What about the twins?” Dad asks. “The hospital is surrounded by security, and we have brothers on the entrances to the NICU, but someone should be with them... a parent should be with them.”

A parent...

Hunter’s earlier confirmation that Lazarus is their biological father rattles around my head.

I wish they were mine.

It’s an uncomfortable to truth to acknowledge when I’m holding Garrett. He is Cherub’s son as much as the twins are, yet I can’t deny the pain I feel over the decision I made after Cherub was wheeled into surgery to stem the uncontrollable haemorrhaging she suffered post-caesarean section.

My chance to have a child with my wife has been stolen from me.

“Anna listed me as her birthing partner,” Nadia announces. I exchange a narrow-eyed look with my rival that morphs into a scowl when he inclines his head to confirm her claim. “I’ll stay with them until she allows you two boneheads access.”

“Perfect.” Mumma soft claps her hands together. “I’ll have Torin bring his things.” The Shamrocks newest prospect is a firm favourite of my mother’s since he goes out of his way to treat her like a queen. The others normally concentrate of sucking up to the old timers for approval, instead of taking the time to understand that the old ladies hold a lot of sway within the ranks. “A portable cot. His bottle warmer. The nappy bag.”

While I try to work out why a baby needs so much for one night, Lazarus takes it in stride. He smiles at Mumma, and she grins back at him. His duplicity appears to have been swept under the carpet for now. Everyone’s just accepted that Venom is alive, even if he’s wearing suits, acting like a totally new man, and sounds completely different, without question.

I’m floundering.

He’s thriving.

It’s a turnabout I never saw coming.

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