Page 69 of Crossed Up

Even tinged with worry, his grin is flirtatious. “If you think I’m not gonna to tie you to me in every way humanly possible, as soon as possible, you’re outta your damn mind, baby.”

I don’t have time to process his declaration as I’m surrounded by medical personnel and police, each one speaking over the other as they load me into the ambulance. Aidan follows me, but my focus shifts to the scared little boy inside. “Aidan, go be with Crew. He needs you more than I do right now.”

He opens his mouth to argue with me, but a tattooed hand lands on his shoulder before he can. Copeland’s face is set in stern determination as he settles a glare on his best friend. “Go get Crew and meet us at the hospital. I’ve got Ly.”

Aidan once again starts to argue but is cut off by Cope. “Let her get checked out and cleaned up before Crew sees her, man. He needs one of you with him, and no offense, tiny, but you’re looking very Carrie right now, and I don’t think we need to add anything else to his therapy checklist.”

A hoarse laugh escapes, and I think that was his goal because the corner of Copeland’s mouth tips up in a small smile. Aidan looks horribly torn, but I smile reassuringly and squeeze his hand. “I’ll be okay, Aid. I have Branch here to keep me company while the doctors fix my face and hand.”

He snorts, getting my joke right away, but Cope looks confused. I pat him gently on the shoulder. “I know you’ve seen Trolls, pal. The name makes sense.”

The big, bad, tattooed grump rolls his eyes, but I swear I see the barest flush hit the tops of his cheekbones.

“Ma’am, we need to leave now,” the EMT interrupts us, and Aidan leans in to kiss me hard and fast. “I love you. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He looks to his friend. “Take care of her.”

Copeland nods seriously, and we’re both loaded up. I stare out the small windows at the man I love long after we pull away, thanking every deity I can name that I made it out alive.

30

AIDAN

“Where’s my mommy? I want my mommy!” Crew’s wailing cries echo down the long hallway outside the family boxes, making me pick up my pace. In a few long strides, I’m able to toss open the door, and the second he spots me, he runs into my arms, knocking me to my ass.

“I’m here, raptor. It’s okay. Everything’s okay now.” I maneuver him so he sits sideways on my lap, his light-up sneakers touching the floor and his face buried in my chest as he sobs. Tears flow freely down my cheeks, and I’m so wrapped up in our shared pain that I startle when a heavy arm drapes around my shoulders.

I turn blurry eyes to my right to see Rhodes’s solemn face inches from mine. The understanding in his gaze gives me the strength I need to pull myself together for my son.

Several ragged breaths are all it takes to wrestle my emotions back under control. I can fall apart tonight when my girl is safely back in our bed. But for now, Crew needs me to be strong for both of us.

“Raptor, do you want to go to see Lyla?”

His glassy, bloodshot eyes meet mine, snot dribbling down over his lips. Before he can use me as his human tissue, an actual tissue appears in front of our faces courtesy of a sullen Wren. I smile in thanks, cleaning up my boy’s face. His expression is more serious than I think I’ve ever seen as he glares at me indignantly. “She’s not Lyla anymore, Dad. She’s my mommy now. She even said so!”

Before the tears make a repeat appearance, I smooth his hair back from his face. “I know, Crew. I know Lyla is your mommy now. I’m sorry.”

Crew nods, relief softening his features now that I’ve verbally acknowledged Lyla is his mother. I really need to pick up another parenting book. None of the ones I’ve read talked about how to handle the whole stepparent thing. But is that what Lyla is? Crew’s never had a mother, and there’s nothing stopping her from legally adopting him when we get married.

Something to think about later.

“Can we go get her now?”

Somehow, in the midst of one of the scariest days of my life, I’ve gotten everything I ever dreamed of for Crew and me. And I’ll never let anything jeopardize it again. With a smile down at our son, I say the words I only ever dreamed I would get to say to him.

“Yeah, kiddo. Let’s go get your mommy.”

“Excuse me, can you tell me what room Lyla Taylor is in?” The bored-looking receptionist glances up, and recognition flares to life in her eyes. In the blink of an eye her annoyed expression shifts to something flirty, and anger has a red haze tinting the edges of my vision.

“Oh, wow! You’re Aidan Black. Can I just say I’m a huge fan?” Her long red nails touch the top of my hand, but I quickly rip it away, nearly growling at her in anger.

“Lyla Taylor’s room number, please?”

Her flirty grin stays fixed firmly in place as her eyelashes bat frantically, the spider-like lashes thick enough that I worry she’ll take flight if she doesn’t stop.

It’s clear I’m not getting any answers here, so I move to the next computer over, where a kind-looking older woman sits hiding a grin behind her hand.

“Hello, ma’am. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to visit my wife, but I don’t know what room she’s in.” I make sure to emphasize the word ‘wife’ for the other receptionists’ benefit, and it makes the one I’m speaking to chuckle.

“She’s in room 502. Head to the left and take the second elevator up. The barcode on this pass will get you access to the floor.”

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