Page 93 of Paternal Instincts
I groaned. The situation had gone from bad to worse. At this rate, we wouldn’t get anywhere.
I nudged Costa’s arm. “Cover me.”
My best friend tore his attention from the chaos. “Why? What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going to chat with Imogen.”
“You can’t.”
“I have a missing eight-year-old boy, and Bryn’s in labor. She could call me at any moment to say she’s ready to have my baby, and I’m not sitting by watching this soap opera play out.” I motioned to the fighting. “I’m done fucking around. Imogen knows something, and I’ll be goddamned if I wait another second to find out what she’s hiding.”
A spark shone in Costa’s eyes, and he cracked a wide smile as he stared at me, seemingly mesmerized.
“What?”
Patting my cheek, he whispered, “This ferocious attitude is exactly what made me start paying attention to you in the first place.”
I shooed his hand away with a laugh. “Look sweetie, Aslan mentioned you might bend over for me if I asked nice, but there isn’t time.”
Costa guffawed. I loved shocking him speechless. It was far too easy.
“What? You aren’t truly afraid of taking it up the ass, are you? He thinks you are, but I know better.” I gave him a slow perusal and wiggled my brows. “You’re a brave soldier, aren’t you?”
“Fuuuck. Why you gotta ruin the moment? I was offering you a compliment. Now I’m going to have nightmares. Jesus.”
Chuckling, I patted his cheek in return. “Sing my praises later, sweetheart. We’ve got work to do.” I spun him and used his body as a shield to block my presence before hissing far too close to his ear. “Pretend you never saw me.”
“Good god. Stop breathing on me. Next thing, you’ll have your tongue in my ear.”
“Mm… Sweet nothings,” I teased.
Laughing, he shoved me back. “Fuck off, Quaid. I swear to god, you’re worse every day. I can’t believe your husband lets you get away with this shit. Go do whatever the fuck you’ve gotta do. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.”
And he did and always would because no matter how much I razzed or teased, Costa had become my best friend.
He moved among the group as I slipped down the hall into Imogen’s room. I had no intention of upsetting a woman who was walking the razor’s edge of labor when her child wasn’t due to be born for several weeks, but a conversation needed to be had.
I closed the door quietly behind me as Imogen opened her eyes. She must have been resting or dozing, but I figured she hadn’t been asleep based on her immediate alertness.
“Detective.” She seemed more frazzled than dazed. Her eyes were clear, if not strained at the edges.
“You’ve returned to us.”
She glanced at the door as though plotting her next move, mind visibly spinning, and I wondered how much of an influence she had on the doctors and ensuring her family was kept at bay.
For an instant, her gaze landed on the call button hooked to her bed within arm’s reach. She didn’t move to press it. Instead, she focused on her round belly under a pale blue hospital gown. Placing her hands on the swell, she moved them lovingly. Her nails were neatly manicured, but her fingers were grimy, which made me wonder again where she’d taken off.
An IV ran from her arm to a tall pole beside the bed. A bag of clear fluid hung from a hook, the liquid slowly traveling along the thin tubing. She didn’t answer.
I approached the bed, scanning her head to toe. Frizzy pieces of hair framed her face. The rest was pinned back in a messy ponytail. Hollow cheeks, a troubled look in her eyes, and dirt-stained fingers seemed to be the only evidence she’d vanished into the unknown for a time. That and the hesitancy in her posture.
I stared at her swollen stomach, following the path of her hands as she rubbed her belly. I thought of Bryn and the countless times I’d watched her do the same thing. Although infrequent, I cherished the few times she’d allowed me to place my hands over her belly to feel my unborn child kicking inside her. It was an indescribable experience that had brought me to tears, and I’d relived it every day.
“Is this one Nixon’s baby?” I asked randomly, as startled by my question as Imogen appeared to be at hearing it.
Her feigned shock didn’t fool me, and I met her gaze challengingly. “Our abductor sent another note while you were gone.”
