Having Jay's Baby (Having His Baby #2) (19 page)

Both of them would be soft and blissfully asleep at the other side of the hallway. Though I still had work to do, I wanted nothing more than to shed my clothes and curl up beside Stella’s naked body. I wanted to be part of them.

I sat down with a sigh, followed by a low curse. I’d forgotten to call, of course. I picked up my phone and switched it on. There were reams of messages and missed calls, all of which I’d spent the day avoiding.

I loosened my tie and shoved it into my jacket pocket, tossing the jacket on to the sofa. My head was noisily incoherent. On autopilot, I woke up the tablet screen on my desk. I rolled up my shirt sleeves and logged on, checking emails. I tried to answer some but after a few minutes it became apparent they were all the same: worried clients; worried business partners; concerned lawyers; concerned friends. All I had were questions and no answers.

The frail, hollow figure of the man in the bed hovered somewhere around the peripheries of my memory, causing me to balk inwardly with each recollection. How could that frail man still be fucking terrorising me?

My gaze floated from the tablet screen of its own accord, staring into the blackness. The investigation wasn’t real. I’d called Fueller, who’d recommended a lawyer, who then advised me to turn myself in for questioning. The FBI had only had one question: how was my father involved in Benson’s business dealings. They wanted names, they wanted times and places; in short, they wanted everything it would take to put my father behind bars, and if I didn’t comply, then they’d ask my father for exactly the same information on me.

I lifted my elbows on to the table and rested my face in my hands for a moment, before rubbing harshly. Laughter was a silent rush of air. I wanted to hate him, but the image of the man in the bed wouldn’t let me. When he woke up—if he recovered—what would he do? Would he have an epiphany, and try to turn his life around? Or would he turn me over to save his own ass? He’d threatened to ruin me before. The only reason the FBI had any leverage on me at all was because of Abel’s mismanagement of my firm’s stock.

Blowing out a breath, my mind swimming in circles, I lifted the tablet and tried to focus. It was with some surprise—alarm—that I noticed Stella standing at the door. Heart in my throat, I lowered the tablet screen and returned her concerned gaze. She was in a t-shirt, her legs bare and her hair tousled.

“Is Nina with you?” she said, breathless.

I stared at her for a moment in confusion. “No,” I said finally.

“She’s not with you?”

“No,” I said, and got up.

Her lips parted. “She’s not in her cot,” she said. A pause. “I didn’t take her out.”

The first sign that all was not well wasn’t the words, exactly, but Stella’s demeanour. She was panting. I could see clearly, even from this distance, her hand shaking on the door handle. The grogginess in my mind evaporated. 

“Did you take her out earlier?” I asked.

“No.” She turned back to the dark hallway. “No, no, I put her down around eight, and then I checked her at ten before I went to bed. I heard you coming in a bit later, but I fell asleep again.”

“But I just got in,” I said, approaching her, “no more than five, ten minutes ago. Stella—wait. Are you sure?” I clasped her arms, turning her to face me. Her eyes were frantic. “Are you sure you didn’t take into bed with you?”

“Of course, I’m sure!” She clasped my arms in return but still swayed. My grip hardened. “My God, Jay. What do you mean you just got in? I heard you—or someone—hours ago.” She looked around wildly. “Where is she?”

CHAPTER TEN

Stella

I could feel every process in my body working to keep me alive. The steady beat of my heart; the blood churning through my veins; the shallow rise and fall of my chest as my lungs filtered the air. I could feel every process as though it was taking every last drop of energy to function. I couldn’t move or think or speak, or I wouldn’t be able to keep even the most basic functions going. My heart would just stop.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Fitzsimmons. I need you to tell me what she’s wearing again, okay?”

I looked up. My eyes were swollen and sore and it took a while to focus on the scene. The policeman standing in front of me was holding a picture on his phone to my face.

“Was it like this?” he asked. Behind him, men in uniforms and overalls were standing around, looking at things and talking in low, grave tones.

I glanced back at the photo. I couldn’t see the baby’s head, but the chubby body was around the same size as Nina’s. The babygro, from a well-known clothes store, was the same as the one she’d been wearing when I’d put her down earlier. I nodded mutely.

“Exactly like this?” he said. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fitzsimmons, but this is important. I need you to tell me.”

“It...” The word came out on a rush of air and disappeared. My body complained at the extra effort. My heart started pumping madly, my lungs palpating. “It’s exactly like that,” I said on a breath. “White, with those little—” God, what were they? “—
things
on the sleeves.”

“The design on the sleeves,” he asked, “like this? The lambs and the little cherries?”

I nodded. I said, “
Yes
,” on a burst of anguish again before he could chastise me again for silence.

Lambs and cherries … who could take an innocent child like Nina? I grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Are you trying to find her?” I asked, dizzy with desperation. “Is somebody out there now, looking for her? Are there cars?”

“We’ve got officers all up and down the block,” he said, his voice gentle but authoritative. “They’re going around all the apartments.”

“She ... she might have been gone for hours,” I said. “She could be much farther away.” I sat down again and covered my stomach with my hands, pain slicing through me. As though I were still pregnant and someone had slashed me, taken my baby from inside me, the pain couldn’t have been more vivid. “I can’t…” I said the words, unsure if I could keep functioning like this. I thought I might literally die here, on this sofa, if someone didn’t help me. “I can’t–”

“Stella, it’s okay.” The sofa depressed next to me, and warm arms slid around my waist. I turned, staring into Jay’s familiar face. The hard planes of his bone structure were so taut as to cut. “It’s okay,” he said in a low, firm voice. “They’ll find her. We just have to be patient.”

I gripped his arms, tearing my nails into them, desperate to communicate the sheer depths of my anxiety. “Did you tell them, that she might have been gone for hours?” I said. “Did you tell them?”

“I told them everything,” he said. “They’ll find her.” He didn’t soothe me or try to calm me. He sat very still, even though I knew I must be hurting his arm.

I couldn’t stop. If I were to let go, I might float away. I might just disappear into blackness, and never come back out again.

A doctor arrived sometime later. Jay tried to guide me to one of the bedrooms, but I resisted, threatening to scream the place down. “You’re not sedating me,” I said, yanking out of his grip. Suddenly I was superhuman, the earlier weakness leaving me in a rush of adrenaline. “I’m staying awake. She’ll need me when she gets back,” I added, shaking on the spot.

“She’ll need you rested, Stella,” Jay said. “Just lie down for an hour. You don’t have to sleep. We’re not achieving anything by sitting up all night on the sofa.”

Out of the corner of my eyes, the policeman from earlier stepped into the elevator. Turning in alarm, panic gripped me. They were all in there, all five or six of them. “Are the police leaving?” I cried. I strode towards them. “Are you leaving?” I shouted. “Where are you going?”

Jay’s arm caught me from behind. “They’re going back to their precinct,” he said in my ear, turning me towards him. “We have to let them do their jobs.”

“Why can’t they work here?” I said.

“They’ve gathered all the forensics they need,” he said carefully. “Come on, Stella—please. They need to work. They’re not going to get anything done here. They’ll call us as soon as they know anything.”

I buried my face into his chest, sobbing suddenly. “No,” I wailed, unable to believe this terrifying noise was coming from me. “No. I thought they would have found her by now, Jay.” I clasped his waist, for some reason terrified by the fact that we were alone in the apartment again. “What if they don’t find her?”

I agreed to the sedative some time later. The panic and terror escalated to a point where I thought I might lose control. There was a voice inside of me screaming and screaming and I could feel it rising closer to the surface with every passing second that Nina was gone. Contemplating even one day into the future without her was unthinkable.

I lay on the sofa in the den, unable to go back to the bedroom alone. Jay sat next to me, and I lay for a long time with the feel of his hand turning a slow circle on my scalp. My body was leaden but I was finally able to focus on something above the basic functions of my heart and lungs.

My thoughts grew hazy; it was hard to focus on anything good or bad. I registered sensations: the feel of Jay’s hand; the scent of his skin under clothes; the occasional sound of his voice as he cleared his throat or spoke quietly on the phone to someone. I closed my eyes and buried my face in his lap, blocking everything else out.

Jay would make sure they found her. He had to.

#

“Stella, we found her.”

I woke up with a start. I tried to sit up but my body was sore and slow. My tongue was too large for my mouth. I blinked into jarring brightness through the window. Where was I?

“Stella, wake up. We found Nina.”

“What time is it?” I said, but the words ran together in a thick, unintelligible mess. I realised it was morning. My neck hurt so bad that I gasped, rubbing it with a clumsy hand.

Reality came tearing back with terrifying force and speed. “Nina!” I dragged my body up, my arms folding clumsily in on themselves.

A pair of arms lifted me into a seated position. I was on the sofa. Jay, the sheer angular mass of him, moved to squat in front of me on the floor. He held my face in his hands.

“They found her,” he said, speaking the words slowly and carefully. “Did you hear me?”

I had. I did. My brain pulsed. “Yes,” I said, trying to nod my head and getting tangled in his hands. The words were still getting stuck in the groggy wadding in my mouth.

Desperation gripped me; I fought for control, fought to wake up. I realised dimly that scalding, fat tears were running down my cheeks. “They found her,” I repeated inanely, forming the words carefully. “Where is she?”

“She’s on her way. She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Is she okay?” The speech had returned, and with it, the panic.” Oh, God, Jay … tell me, is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” he said, emphatically.

“Where is she?” I clasped at his arms, already coming to my feet. “We should go get her. We should meet them.”

“Stella, sit down for a minute. You’re still sedated.” Encircling my waist, he held me firmly against the soft cushions. “She’s on her way, okay?” His dark eyes, gentle on me, nonetheless glittered hard with intent.

Whatever was happening, he had it under control.

Relief started to crack the terror. The shaking increased. I had to grip my hands together in my lap to keep them still. Jay’s eyes followed the movement, his jaw flexing. He kissed the side of my mouth gently, his breath escaping in a frustrated stream. It was all I needed; I clasped my hands around his neck and pulled him into me. Sobs wracked my body and I held on to him, nourished by the heat and the solidity.

After a short while, once the worst of the pressure had eased, I extricated my body from his. “Are you okay?” I asked.

He didn’t respond. The handsome features were haggard with lack of sleep. He grimaced—though perhaps it had meant to be a smile—and then rubbed his face. “I guess. I’ll be better once Nina’s back.”

“Who took her?”

Though the words left me, I hadn’t quite formulated them with any intention. The way his expression flattened into stark anger suggested I might not be able to deal with the response.

He was right. I needed to see that she was safe first, and unhurt. That was the only thing that mattered. There would be time for rage later.

“I have to wash my face,” I said, sitting back without giving him a chance to respond. I wiped a graceless hand across my nose.

Running the rough pad of his thumb down my cheek, he considered me for a moment. “Can you walk?” he asked.

I nodded. “What the hell did they give me last night?” I asked.

He laughed, the sound frayed. “Something strong,” he said.

I couldn’t walk particularly well. Like an invalid, I let Jay guide me to the nearest bathroom. Once inside and left to my own devices, I sat on the toilet. I stayed there long after I’d peed, feeling sick and woozy and relieved and so torn apart inside I wondered if it would ever heal.

Oh, God—
Nina
. Nina, my baby. Had she been scared? Would she have known what was going on, or would she even remember any of this? She’d never been apart from me at night, never woken without her mother at hand. How were we going to get past this terrible thing? How would I ever let her out of my sight again?

Eventually, my hands shaking, realising I wouldn’t find an answer to these questions right now—maybe not ever—I got to my feet and flushed the toilet. I washed my hands and splashed my face. Jay knocked on the door again and I called him in.

“They’re five minutes away,” he said.

I stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was the same and yet somehow askew. Alarm shot through me, as though I’d seen a stranger in the mirror. I battened down on the rogue emotion and turned to him, focusing on the face I knew, the face that had experienced the same terror as me last night. 

My eyes dropped, unable to keep his watchful gaze. I turned back to the sink. He’d only known Nina a while … did he feel all of this like I did?

“Do you want to have a shower before they arrive?” he said.

I brushed my hair back. “I might have a bath, with Nina, when she gets back,” I said. I knew I wouldn’t be able to put her down once she was here. With almighty effort, my hands gripping the washbasin, I asked, “Why did they take her?” I paused. “Was it a random thing? Did we do something-?”

“Let’s talk about it later, after she’s here.” Another beat of silence. “She is okay. I promise.  She’ll be okay.” His voice thickened. “This won’t happen again, not under my watch.”

My eyes welled. “Thank you, Jay.”

“What for?” he asked, visibly perturbed.

For keeping me alive through this
.

He walked into the bathroom. He’d changed into sweats at some point during the night and he looked as grubby and manhandled as I did. I stared at his face, forcing myself to recognise it, to look past the impassive sheen. Still gripping the sink, I did a catalogue of the straight nose, the high cheekbones and the wide brow that so often creased with both patience and a lack of it. I saw Nina in there somewhere; the limitless capacity for love behind those deep caramel eyes.

The eyes shifted. Approaching the sink, he reached up and brushed my hair back from my neck. He placed a gentle kiss on the exposed skin. I turned and held him close to me, realising after a moment that I may not be able to let go.

#

The next time I woke I was in bed. I was naked; Jay was naked, too. I stirred, stiffened by a jolt of alarm as the memories flooded back. I got up and out of the bed before I could even think, striding to the cot. Nina was in there. She was fast asleep. Her dark lashes twitched against the velvety-soft cheeks. Panic rose and subsided again.

I placed a hand on the sturdy hillock of her stomach. The steady, predictable rhythm of her breathing made my heart settle. Lowering the side of the cot, I nestled my face against her downy hair, careful not to wake her. Her scent—a scent that could never be replicated—filled me in long, grateful breaths.

Once I’d refilled my Nina tanks, I lifted the edge of the cot again. I breathed out, relieved, and yet astonished that even though this nightmare was over, I was still quaking. Fear circled me like a predator. Then I noticed Jay was watching me from the bed, the dark eyes narrow under messy blond hair, and everything turned topsy-turvy again.

He brushed his hair back to reveal a serious frown. I watched as he lifted his body centre and sat up, the cover tripping down his stomach. We’d bathed together that morning, all three of us, when Nina had been dropped off. It had been one of the most intimate, sensual experiences of my life, to feel his body behind me, supporting me, while I held the active, healthy body of our daughter in my arms. I’d sobbed like a child. That intimacy was still there in his eyes. It scorched me. It made me glaringly naked.