Page 97 of Reclaimed

“You don’t know the half of it. They had a rough childhood, and the way Jack tells it, he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Jude protecting him. Hell of a way to honor his brother.”

I rest my head on Aiden’s shoulder, blinking back the sting of tears. Once the twins pull apart, everyone takes turns congratulating the new father. I even get swept into yet another unexpected hug.

Everyone resumes their seats, chatting excitedly until an hour later when Whitney’s ready for company. By the time Aiden and I get our turn in the small room, I’m about falling asleep on my feet.

“We’ll be quick,” Aiden announces as he leads me into the small room. Whitney is glowing where she sits in the hospital bed with a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. Her cheeks are slightly pink, and her hair is a cute mess of waves.

“Congratulations!” I lean over the bedrail and squeeze her shoulder affectionately. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. Third time and all.” She waves her hand. “A breeze.”

“She’s a pro.” Jack kisses her on the forehead, his eyes radiating so much love I feel like I should look away.

“I might have to call you for some pointers.” I’m only half joking. Even though Aiden and I have been reading the baby book together, I feel like it’s only giving me half-truths. There’s no way the book is accurate in spelling out exactly how much birthing a baby is going to hurt.

Jack scoops up his son from Whitney and carefully hands him off to Aiden. “And I’ll be calling you,” Aiden jokes at Jack.

“My phone is always on, you know that.”

I peer over Aiden’s arm at the little baby. A blue hat covers Soren’s forehead, but his little brown eyebrows are visible beneath the band. His lashes are a mixture of blond and brown. His little pink lips are pursed in a puckered frown.

“He’s so beautiful, you guys.” My voice is filled with awe. I’ve never been around a newborn baby before, and I’m struck by how tiny he is. How fragile.

As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Aiden holds him out. “Want to hold him?”

I slip my purse strap off my shoulder, letting it fall to the floor. Aiden places the baby in the crook of my arm. “Oh my god, he’s so light.”

“He won’t stay that way by long. When you need to bounce him around all hours the of the night trying to get him to fall asleep, he’ll start to feel like he’s fifty pounds.”

“Which one?” Aiden asks, referring to her two older kids.

“Bennett.” Jack smirks, and I sense an underlying story there.

Soren stirs in my arms, prompting me to hand him back to his mom. We exchange a round of goodbyes, and leave them to finish with their visitors and get some much-needed rest.

25

Aiden

Friday nightI’m in my usual seat, front and center at XO’s, with a cold beer in my hand. I flip through the latest texts on the family thread featuring a series of photos from Jack. Whitney and Soren were released from the hospital yesterday afternoon, and the proud new father is keeping us well supplied with all Soren’s firsts as they settle in at home.

I pause on the photo of Lucy and Bennett holding their new brother. My chest tightens at the little trio. Bennett beaming proudly at the camera while Lucy looks a little less enthused at being outnumbered. I have no doubt that she’ll rock her role as big sister to these two boys. After she has some time to adjust, of course.

The still-buzzing phone goes in my pocket as Isla’s set ticks closer. The room is at capacity tonight. With Halloween coming, the girls are dressed in costume. Apparently this has attracted a larger crowd. The increase in attendance has my awareness on high alert. I find myself scanning every face—twice—committing as many as I can to memory.

Could the man in the front to my right, with the light brown hair combed to the side, a wiry mustache, and square glasses be a person of interest? Or what about the stout man, mid-thirties, standing in the left corner with his eyes pinned on the stage? Any one of these fuckers could have dangerous intentions, and I have no way of knowing that information.

Our relationship has become more complicated, muddied in a way I didn’t expect. I might have started with good intentions, of wanting to help someone I cared for, but now it feels like I’m protecting someone who’s solely mine to protect. The stakes are higher than ever before.

Sutton and Silas have said the detectives are no closer to finding this guy than they were after the last murder. They try to reassure me. That he’ll slip up eventually. But what if that eventuality is when Isla’s the one in his crosshairs? I’m no longer willing to leave her alone long enough to take that chance.

She hasn’t brought up our arrangement in a while, but even if she asked me to let her go, I’m not sure I could. Not with this guy still out there. We weaved a tangled web, our friends and family caught up in our lies, and I’m not sure I even want to dismantle it anymore.

Not sure if I ever did.

I clock Lucien near the side of the stage, his gaze on the act rather than the crowd. Typical. This guy is as dirty as they come.

The stage lights dim before brightening again as Isla begins her act. At over twenty weeks along, she’s no longer able to execute the tricks she used to—both for safety and strength reasons. I trust she knows her body enough to know what it can and can’t do.

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