Page 75 of Merciful Lies

I haven’t felt that kind of fear in a very long time.

What if something happens to Anna or the baby?

What if she blames me?

What if she leaves me?

Panic has me struggling for breath, and I ignore the stares of my men. They don’t know. They don’t fucking understand.

Anna is my life. I can’t lose her. I won’t. I fucking refuse.

The plane ride is too long, and I don’t bother with the car. From the airport where we land, I take a helicopter right to the hospital.

By the time I arrive, I am sweating through my shirt. I ditched my suit jacket somewhere, I don’t fucking know or care.

My sweet Anna is lying in a hospital bed, and she looks pale and weak. Giselle and Maria are both there, and I am grateful to them, but I don’t want them there. I want them gone.

I glare at them and stride for my wife.

“Anna,” I say, and she opens her eyes.

I expect her usual bright whiskey brown gaze with flecks of gold glittering in the warm depths, but her eyes aren’t shining today.

They look dull and lifeless. The whites of her eyes are red from crying.

“Nico,” she murmurs like she can’t believe I am there and tries to sit up.

“Rosebud,” I murmur and wrap her up in my arms, holding her tight to me.

“It’s okay, Baby. I’m here. Hush,” I say, kissing her head while she cries against my chest.

I know the baby is alright. I read the medical report while I was in the air. It was just some spotting and Braxton-Hicks contractions. They want to keep her overnight to monitor them both.

When I was on my way to the hospital, I called and had her moved into a private room but allowed her friends to visit until I could get there.

But now I am here.

And I want everyone else out.

Angel and Luc know me. They know my nature, and I’m sure they can see how fucking close I am to losing it. It’s happened, albeit infrequently.

But no, I would never be violent towards a woman or women. I just need Anna to myself. I have to make sure she’s okay, see it with my own eyes.

I see them take the two women outside. Anna is too distraught to notice, and that’s okay.

My job is to calm her down. To be there for her. And I failed. But I won’t. not anymore.

She says something, and I can’t understand her. The antiseptic smell inside the stark white hospital is dizzying. I hate it. So, I bury my nose in her hair, and I breathe my wife in.

“What is it, Rosebud? I can’t hear you when you talk into my shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nico, I panicked, and they called you and I didn’t mean to make such a big deal about this,” she says, and I am stunned.

“What are you talking about, Baby?”

My chest is tight. Is she really apologizing to me?

Of all the reactions I expected from Anna, having her sob into my shirt saying sorry for interrupting my business wasn’t even in the top ten.

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