Page 50 of Grimm
We’d spent the last week trying to finish the nursery and going through baby names, settling on Gracie, after my cousin, if it was a girl, and Lucas, if it was a boy. Siobhan, our oldest daughter, was as excited as we were for the new baby. It was all she talked about, and like me, she couldn’t keep from touching Dani’s rounded belly and talking to the little human inside.
Although I’d told Dani it didn’t matter whether we had a boy or another girl, secretly, I wanted another girl. A mini version of her mama, attitude and all. Siobhan was more like me, quiet and reserved. Dani was a firecracker, quick-tempered, and as feisty as they came. She was everything and more in my eyes.
“There’s no fucking way she should be in labor,” I mumbled as I rushed up to the receptionist area, ignoring my brothers as I passed. I impatiently tapped the desk, the receptionist sitting behind it more concerned with her phone conversation than helping me find Dani.
“I’m looking for my wife.”
She held up her finger while she continued to gab on the phone to God knew who about God knew what. From the way she smiled and laughed, it was a fucking personal call, not business.
Pure unadulterated rage surged through me. Her fucking phone call could wait. Her smiles and laughs could wait. I wanted to know where the hell my wife was.
I slammed my palm on the counter, the thud echoing in the busy lobby. It was like time stood still. She jumped, scowled at me, and leaned forward, placing her hand over the receiver.
“Sir,” she whispered, her tone firm like she was talking to a child, “if you do not calm down, I will have to call security.”
“Hang up the fucking phone!” I yelled, not caring who heard or watched the scene unfold or if she called security.
Fuck em’.
The room became deathly silent, the only noise coming from the small television hanging on the wall across from the chairs in the waiting room and the blood pounding in my ears.
“I want to know where my goddamn wife is! Now!”
I didn’t feel sorry for the terror in her eyes when they shifted to my cut as she scrambled to place the receiver down, ending her call without another word. I wanted to know where Dani was, and I wanted to know right this damn minute. I didn’t have fucking time to wait for her to finish up her damn phone call. My wife was somewhere in this goddamn hospital, and I needed to get to her now. I could feel it in my soul.
“Calm down, bro,” Caesar, my VP, whispered in my ear, squeezing my shoulder. “You don’t want to get thrown out before you find out what the hell is going on. They wouldn’t tell any of us shit.”
“Where’s Laura?” I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Maybe she can tell me something.”
He shrugged. “This cunt,” he tipped his chin toward the receptionist, who looked like she’d pissed herself, “said she was too busy to talk to us right now.”
I dropped my head and released a breath, the fear settling in the pit of my stomach forcing bile to crawl up my throat.
“Something’s wrong, Caesar.” I ran my hand through my hair, forcing the bile down. “Something’s fucking wrong with my wife.”
“Prez!” Someone’s hand gripped my shoulder, shaking me. “Prez!”
Caesar?
Pulling myself from another goddamn nightmare, I groaned as I lifted my head from my desk at the clubhouse. I must’ve fallen asleep while trying to finish up some of the paperwork piled up on my desk. Since dealing with Janet’s kidnapping and the disposal of Samuel Allen’s body, I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep in the past few weeks.
Who the fuck was I kidding? I hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in two damn years.
I ran my hand through my hair and then pulled it from the roots, trying to erase the fogginess. “What’s up, Caesar?”
I leaned back in my office chair, looking at my VP from across the desk, and saw the concern in his eyes. Although his concern might have been called for because I was barely holding on to my sanity, I wouldn’t dwell on it. I couldn’t. If I did, I’d break.
“Rachel’s been calling. Said she couldn’t get you on the cell.” He lifted his cell in the air. “So, she called me.”
I picked up my phone from the top of the stack of folders filled with unfinished work and saw the many missed calls from Siobhan’s babysitter and from her preschool.
“Goddamn it!”
I pushed the call button, wiping my hand down my face.
“Rachel,” I called out after she answered on the third ring. “I’m sorry I missed your call. Is everything all right? Where’s Siobhan?”
“She was running a fever. The school nurse couldn’t get in touch with you, so she called me since you had me listed as one of the emergency contacts. We’re at home now.”
