Page 67 of Bad Medicine
These two people, alone together for so long, were now my reason for being.
And I barely knew them.
I could feel it, though. All the old protective instincts rising in me; the need to ensure that nothing happened to them, to make sure that they were happy and healthy and never had cause to worry.
But, on top of all that, was something more, something deeper and—fuck if I could even believe it myself—something permanent.
When Jasper finally stopped talking long enough to notice me, he froze, his eyes going wide, and I tried to make myself look a little friendly by smiling.
At least, I hoped it was a smile; I was having a hard time feeling my face.
“Jasper,” Mia said, standing again and taking his hand. “You remember my friend, Rocco, don’t you?”
Jasper nodded, but didn’t say anything. Taking my cue from Mia, I dropped down to one knee in front of him.
“Hey there, Jasper,” I said, holding out my hand. “Nice to meet ya. You can call me Rock.”
His little nose wrinkled at that, and he looked cute as fuck. After a second, I realized he also looked a whole fuck of a lot like his dad, but even I wasn’t dumb enough to say shit about that. I had no idea what Mia had told him about his father, or even if she knew the kinds of things I did about Gregor.
Although, she was really fuckin’ scared of him at the hospital, so I thought it was a safe bet she had a pretty good idea.
“Jasper, Rock is going to come inside for a minute,” Mia said, using her keys to open the door. “He’s going to wait in the kitchen for me while I give you a bath and get you into bed, alright?”
“Okay, Mom,” he replied, but I felt like she was really talking to me, so I nodded, too.
Following them into the house, I closed and locked the door behind me, looking around the place as Mia led Jasper upstairs and started running the water in the tub. The house was small, no doubt, but it was ridiculously clean and tidy, with all the matching colors and shit I’d expect to see from a woman who had no one to answer to when it came to decorating. Blues and grays, soft pillows and cozy blankets, all mixed in with a basket of toy trucks and a box of crayons on the coffee table. The walls were practically dripping with photographs, pictures of Mia and Jasper throughout the years, each one showing just how much love they had for each other.
I walked over to a bookshelf, my eyes zeroing in on a photo of Mia lying in a hospital bed, shapeless gown and messy hair, cradling a tiny baby wearing a little blue knit hat, and I felt that squeeze in my chest again.
She looked so young, her smile huge, but her eyes telling the truth of her panic. I couldn’t imagine being in her position, having someone just hand you an entire human with the expectation that you’d actually keep it alive and somehow turn it into a decent person and a fully functioning member of society.
Like, fuck. How did anyone manage to accomplish that?
I was still standing there, staring at the photos, when I heard soft footsteps approaching from behind me. Turning, I saw Mia, her scrubs off and her hair out of it’s ponytail, looking comfortable again in another pair of soft looking leggings and a baggy t-shirt.
For a second, all I could do was stare, taking in each gorgeous inch of her.
I didn’t think I’d ever appreciated a woman the way I appreciated Mia, knowing there was so much more to her than just the way she looked. Mia was smart and fierce and strong and brave. She had convictions that she stood by, and her determination was unmatched.
Plus, the way she liked to give me shit gave me a fuckin’ hard on.
Now that I was thinking about it, she was everything I had ever wanted in a woman.
I just hadn’t known I was looking.
Lacing her fingers in front of her, she fidgeted restlessly, her nerves showing in the way she was looking everywhere but at me.
“Do you, um, want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing over her shoulder to the kitchen. “I don’t have much in the way of booze, which in hindsight seems like a mistake, but I might have some wine in there and I could—”
“Mia,” I said, my voice barely recognizable, even to myself. “Come sit down, Doc.”
I reached out, placing my hand over hers, forcing her fingers to still, then lacing them with my own. Slowly, like she was an animal who could bolt at any moment, I led Mia over to the couch in the living room. Once we were seated side by side, I turned to face her, never letting go of her hand.
“I want you to tell me,” I said, waiting until she was looking at me. I needed to ask her—for my own sanity, at least—and I was terrified that I wasn’t going to like the answer.
If he’d hurt her—if he’d forced her—there wasn’t a place in all of the world where that fucker could hide. “Tell me exactly how you ended up pregnant by the heir to the Las Vegas Bratva.”
Chapter thirty
