Page 150 of A Little Crush
She’s going to make a full recovery.
I hang on to the prognosis, praying it’ll calm my still-racing heart.
“Thank you,” we all say.
“Anytime. I’ll be back to check on Poppy again in a few.”
As she leaves, there’s a shout from the hallway. “Where the hell is my daughter?”
Jaxon and I share a look of confusion before he strides to the doorway and peers out. “Iris!” he calls. “We’re in here!”
The angry click-clack of heels jars me as she marches into the room but stops short when she sees me holding Poppy. “Get your fucking hands off my child.”
Jaxon steps in front of her. “Whoa, Iris.”
“Don’twhoa, Irisme,” she snaps.
Aunt Ashlyn shifts around them, keeping a wide berth as she moves toward me. “Hey, why don’t I…”
With a jerky nod, I hand over a sleeping Poppy, then wipe my hands on my jeans, suddenly feeling more out of place than if I were dropped on Mars with a knapsack and a “see ya later.” I should give them some privacy. Some space. Some…something. On shaky legs, I step toward the door, but Jaxon stops me.
“Rory, wait?—”
“Get the hell out of here,” Iris snaps.
My body freezes in place, and I honestly don’t know what to do. I’ve never done well with confrontation. Never done well with yelling in general, actually. Add in the death glare from Jaxon’s ex, my already frazzled brain, and my more than depleted emotions, and I’m pretty sure all I want to do is crawl into a hole, bawl my eyes out, and disappear entirely.
“Iris, the nurse just filled us in,” Jaxon says in an attempt to placate her. “Poppy’s okay.”
Ignoring him, Iris reaches for me, her long, manicured nails digging into my wrist as she tries to physically remove me from the room by dragging me toward the door. I yank my arm away from her and shove her back, my body moving on instinct.
“What the hell?” I screech.
“You—”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jaxon snarls. He pushes me behind him, using his body as a physical barrier.
Still not bothering to acknowledge the man between us, Iris seethes at me, “This is your fault!”
I rub at my bruised forearm, confused more than angry. “What are you talking?—”
“What did you do to her? What did you do?” she shouts.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Jaxon growls. “Now, I’m gonna need you to calm the hell down, Iris.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” She shoves against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. “Do you know how I found out my daughter was in the hospital, Jaxon? I had to hear it from the announcers while I was watching your game! Are you kidding me?”
Glancing over his shoulder at me, Jaxon asks, “You didn’t call her?”
The blood drains from my face as I realize how awful this must look. “I tried?—”
“Bullshit!” Iris sneers.
“I called you at least a dozen times,” I argue, defending myself. “But none of them would go through.”
“Bull. Shit!” she repeats, as if all rationality has clearly left the building. “You’re trying to take my place! You’re hurting her! You’re?—”
“Iris!” Jaxon snaps. “If you don’t lower your voice, you’re going to wake up our daughter, and after everything she’s been through, I think we can all agree that’s the last thing she needs. This isn’t about you. Now, you need to calm down because if you don’t, they’ll make you leave.”
