Page 142 of Cougar

“We have a daughter, Emerson,” Marcus cried as he pressed a kiss to our newborn daughter’s head, then raised his teary gaze to mine. “She’s perfect,” he whispered. “Thank you for giving me the most precious gift. I’ll never take you or our family for granted.”

My heart felt like it would explode from the love I felt for my husband and daughter in that moment. “I never thought it was possible to be so happy and frightened at the same time,” I admitted.

“Me, too,” he agreed, then dropped his gaze to the tiny baby in his arms. “I already want to lock her up until she’s thirty.”

I snorted a laugh.

“I’m serious.” He smirked. “I promise I’m going to be the best father to her. I’ll protect her with my life.”

“You’re an amazing husband, Marcus King, and you’ll be an even more amazing father. I couldn’t have wished for a better man. She’s a lucky little girl, and she’s our miracle baby. I can’t believe she’s really here.”

“Because she’s a fighter like her mother.”

“Ma’am, we need you to let her go so we can get her to hospital.”

“She’s my baby,” I cry. “I’m not leaving her.”

“Emerson.” Two strong arms curl around me from behind, bringing me to my feet. “Let them get her to the hospital. Alex is going to ride with her. You’re riding with me.”

“Max.” I spin in his arms and cry hysterically into his chest. His hold on me tightens as he shushes me. Suddenly a surge of rage zips through my veins. I lift my head. “Where is he?” I growl, scanning the parking lot until I spot him sitting in the back of an unmarked car.

“Who?”

I don’t bother with an answer. Breaking from Max’s hold, I charge toward the car and slap my hands on the window. “You sonofabitch! Look at me!” He turns his face away from me. “You fucking coward!” Someone grabs me from behind but I keep going. “You messed with the wrong girl, motherfucker! You’re dead!” I’m lifted from the ground and carried off. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Max shoves me into the back seat of his truck without a word before he slips behind the wheel and my mother silently climbs in beside me. The only sounds in his truck are my hysterical cries bouncing off the windows and the sirens from the ambulance in front of us.

“Emerson, you have to try to calm down,” my mother insists as we pull into the parking lot of Heritage Bay Medical Center.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I choke out. Max’s truck rolls to a stop behind the ambulance. I climb out of the back seat, drop to my hands and knees, and throw up. “He was killing my baby, and I couldn’t save her,” I cry.

The back doors of the ambulance open and two paramedics hop out, followed by Alex.

I get to my feet and stumble toward them. “Jayla?” I reach out to touch her, but I don’t know where because I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. “Is she okay?”

“Let them get her inside,” Max barks.

My chest is raw, my throat is clogged, and my head is spinning. I move over to the bushes and throw up again.

“Emerson,” my father’s voice calls out to me.

A nurse comes over with a wheelchair.

“I don’t need that,” I snap.

“You will,” my mother says.

I feel a pinch in my arm and my head snaps up. “Hey—ow! Fuck off.” I jerk my arm away and rub it with my other hand.

“Get her in the chair” is the last thing I hear my mother say before my eyes grow heavy and I’m floating.

* * *

Cam

News vans from every station in town are lined up along the curb outside Heritage Bay Medical Center. “That was fast,” I say.

Bass bristles and honks his horn, warning the reporters to get out of the way before he whips his Denali into the parking lot and jerks to a stop in the closest parking spot.

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