Page 121 of Star Crossed
“I’m gonna have a baby?” She swallowed past the sob. “Is that true?”
“You’re gonna have two of ’em.” Wyatt gave a broken laugh. “Talk ’bout paying for past sins. Here’s hoping they aren’t half as big a handful as we were.”
“But I took tests.”
“You took bad tests. They did one of those video things, and you could see ’em bouncing around in there like little jumping beans. I saw ’em myself.”
Jules tried to absorb that, but fresh tears slid down her face and all she could manage was, “Tell me what’s wrong with Romeo.”
“Why don’t we worry ’bout what’s wrong with you instead,” Wyatt countered. “I think you ought to work on getting healthy and strong and give those little Ju Ju Beans a break, don’t you?”
Jules touched her shoulder, feeling the bandage beneath the hospital gown. “Wha-what—” She was still struggling with the fog in her brain. Her whole head seemed stuffed full of cotton, and moving was incredibly difficult in a way that was more than just the pain. It was like her body weighed a thousand pounds more than it had before. Still she fought to concentrate and asked, “Are the babies gonna be all right?”
“Doctors said they should be. They had to do a few things they weren’t thrilled ’bout, but you’re twelve weeks. I guess that makes it better. I reckon with you and Wellings as parents, the little Ju Ju Beans should be hardheaded enough to be fine. They haven’t used that many drugs, but they’ve been giving you blood transfusions and—”
“Blood transfusions?”
“You had a cut on your neck. Glass or something.” Wyatt’s eyes darkened. “You were near dead when I got to the hospital. The lady doctor’s here. You wanna talk to him ’bout the babies?”
Jules wiped at her face and nodded. “Yeah, lemme talk to him.”
“I bet they’ll do one of those things”—Wyatt gestured to her stomach—“so you can see ’em.”
“Okay.” Jules swallowed hard and looked to the new doctor who walked up. “Will you lemme see them?”
“Absolutely,” the doctor said with a warm smile. “We’re happy to see you awake and alert. How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I wanna know what’s going on with Romeo.” Jules choked against a fresh surge of tears. Even with the cotton in her brain, the panic was overwhelming. “Why won’t anyone tell me what’s—”
The doctor smiled and grasped her wrist to cut her off. “Do you want me to order the sonogram now?”
Jules nodded and wiped at her eyes again, but the tears didn’t seem to want to stop flowing. “Yeah.”
“Then let’s do that, and we’ll let Dr. Miller work on better assessing you.”
“Why’s it so hard for me to think?” Jules asked herself more than the doctor. It was so frustrating. If she could think clearly, she could demand real answers. Out of desperation she reached for her brother. “My brain’s not working right.”
Wyatt grasped her hand in his. “You’ve been laying in this bed for a while now. I’m not all that surprised things are foggy.”
“Help me until I can think. Don’t let ’em just pacify me. Don’t you do it neither!” She squeezed his hand tighter to make her point and with a note of pleading told him, “Find Romeo. You fix it for me, Wy Wy. Promise.”
The doctor and nurses surrounded Jules and forced her to think about other things, but she noticed what Wyatt was hoping she didn’t—he never promised.
* * * *
It was long past dark before Wyatt finally made it across the hall in the ICU. Clay and Melody had driven over from the hotel after Jules woke up. Melody was better at distracting Jules than Wyatt was, but even Melody was running out of things to help Jules keep her mind off Romeo.
The longer Jules stayed awake, the clearer her thinking became and the more demanding she got. There was no way they were going to make it through the night without Wyatt giving her a straight answer. He had been staring at the room across the way for the past few hours, desperate for the right break in the storm. He saw two federal agents go in, and he waited until they left before he used the excuse of finding dinner to walk over there.
The door was partially open when he walked in and peered inside. Rather than look at the bed, he glanced at the Moretti brothers. Nova sat on the ground instead of in a chair. His back was against the wall, and he stared at Romeo on the bed as if deep in thought. Tino was lying on the floor, his head resting on Nova’s thigh. He appeared to be asleep. They had beds in the ICU, Wyatt knew, because he used one last night to try and get a few hours rest, but it hadn’t worked out too well.
Wyatt had no idea why Tino was sleeping on the floor, but he decided to back away, knowing how hard it was to get sleep when they were under so much stress.
“You can come in, Conner,” Nova said without looking at him.
Wyatt frowned. “How—”
“Size fourteen police boots make a very distinct sound against linoleum,” Nova explained. “I heard you stomping from across the hall.”
