The Presence of Grace (Love and Loss #2) (20 page)

Chapter
Twenty-Three

Devon

“Daddy? Please come home. Fast. There’s a man outside. He was in a white car, and he’s talking to Grace and she looks scared.” My blood chilled in my veins at the sound of Ruby’s voice, scared and worried, and my heart thumped wildly in my chest. I didn’t think. I just moved.

“Call 911. Now, Ruby. Stay in the house. Do not go outside. Do you hear me?”

“Daddy, I’m scared,” she whispered. I jumped in my SUV and drove recklessly from the parking lot.

“Ruby, listen to me. Call 911 and give them our address. Stay inside. I’m on my way. Everything will be all right.” I said the words even though I had no idea if I’d end up being right, but nothing would ever wipe away the memory of Ruby’s voice crying over the phone, telling me she was scared, and I’d do or say anything in that moment to make her feel safe. Ruby had been through a lot. Hell, both my kids had, but fear was not something they’d had to deal with a lot. So to hear her scared, and be miles away, was not something I’d get over easily.

The five minutes it took me to drive to my house were the scariest five minutes of my life. I had no idea if Grace was okay or if my kids were okay, but I was driving like a madman to get to them.

When I pulled up to the house, I didn’t see a white car. It could have been there, but I wasn’t looking for it. My gaze was locked on Grace, lying on the ground with a pool of blood around her head.

I threw the car in Park, not bothering to turn it off, and ran to her. As soon as I was on the ground next to her and saw her chest move up and down with a breath, I let out my own breath of relief.

“Daddy!” I heard Ruby cry from the front door.

“Are you and your brother all right?” I asked, and she nodded, tears streaming down her face. “It’s okay, sweetie. Everything’s fine. Did you call 911?”

“Yeah,” she cried. It was then I heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

“Stay in the house. Everything’s going to be all right.”

The ambulance and police cars showed up, sirens blaring, but the noise did nothing to rouse Grace. I sat with her until the paramedics pushed me away, but the whole time I was right there, telling her I loved her and that she wasn’t alone.

When they loaded her into the ambulance, I wanted so badly to go with them, but knew I had to stay with the kids. I watched the ambulance pull away and then ran to the house to comfort my children, who were standing at the door, watching the scene unfold with tears in their eyes.

I managed to calm them down, but explained that we had to go to the hospital to be with Grace. Neither one of them argued and they practically ran to the car, ready to go and make sure she was all right.

We sat in the waiting room—waiting being the operative word. We’d been
waiting
for almost two hours with no updates. My mom came to the hospital even though she still wasn’t feeling well, but my dad was in no condition. He kept calling, asking for updates, and I heard my mother whispering to him about how terrible I looked, how worried I was, and how upset the children were. My mother offered to take them back to my house to wait, but both Ruby and Jax refused—they wanted to see Grace.

Detectives hovered around us, trying to blend in with the noise and commotion of the emergency room, but looked out of place. They’d questioned the kids and myself, but none of us really had much to say. I explained what had happened at the bar, that perhaps the same man had been the one in the white car, but the weight of uselessness was heavy. I had nothing to offer them. Only Grace would be able to tell them exactly what had happened.

Every time the doors that led back to the emergency room opened, my eyes darted there and hope rushed through me, but no one had come for me yet. I’d asked the nurse working at the admin desk for information a hundred times, but she wouldn’t tell me anything because Grace and I weren’t family.

I wanted to scream at her that Grace was a part of me; that just because we didn’t have the same last name yet didn’t mean she wasn’t everything to me, but I managed to keep my cool and take a seat. It didn’t stop me from asking every ten minutes though.

Finally, the doors opened and a nurse I hadn’t seen yet called out, “Devon Roberts?”

I stood immediately and walked toward her. “I’m Devon Roberts,” I said urgently. “Is she okay?”

“Come with me” was all she said, and she turned around, heading back into the emergency room.

I grunted in frustration, but followed. We turned down a few different hallways and at each door we passed my eyes looked in, searching for Grace. Eventually, the nurse stopped at an open door and motioned for me to go in first.

When I walked in, all I saw was Grace lying in a hospital bed, an IV hooked up to her arm and a monitor beeping next to her bed. She had dark circles under her eyes, but she was breathing and her heart was beating. That was all I could ask for. Walking to the side of her bed, I picked up the hand that wasn’t hooked up to anything and kissed her palm. At the touch of my lips, her eyelids began to flutter and slowly open.

“Grace?” I asked gently.

“She’ll probably still be a little groggy, but she’s okay,” the nurse said, typing something into the computer next to Grace’s bed.

“Grace, baby?” I said again, smoothing her hair out of her face. Her eyes opened again and I’d never seen a blue I liked more than the color of them right then.

“Hey,” she whispered after she’d blinked a few times.

“Hey,” I said back to her, kissing her hand again. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Her voice was quiet and I got the impression it was because she was weak and not because she was trying to keep the volume down. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“You scared me,” I whispered against her skin.

“I’m sorry. I was scared too.”

“What happened?” I watched as her eyes closed and she took a breath, then she swallowed, and looked up at me.

“I thought a car was following us home. I watched it make all the same turns as me, but when I pulled in the driveway, it kept going. But after we all got out, it came back,” she said, her voice shaking. “I told the kids to lock themselves in the house. Are they okay?” Her voice filled with panic and she winced as she tried to sit up, practically climbing out of the bed with worry.

“They’re fine, I promise. They’re worried about you, but they aren’t hurt.”

“I was so scared.” She cried in earnest and nothing was going to stop me from crawling up beside her and holding her as she did. “I was so afraid something would happen to Ruby and Jax, and I don’t know what I’d do.”

I tried my best to soothe her, but I knew exactly why she was upset and knew how petrifying it could be to think about bad things happening to children, especially children you loved liked Grace loved my kids.

“They’re fine,” I said.

“But something could have happened. I don’t remember anything. They were in the house, that man was standing there begging me not to press charges, and then I was waking up in the emergency room. He didn’t go near the kids at all?” she asked, her eyes darting up to mine, looking for some reassurance.

“No, Grace, no one touched them. I promise.” She let out a sigh of relief.

“Hi, Ms. Richards, I’m Dr. Miller. I was the attending on duty when you came into the emergency room this afternoon. How are you feeling?”

“My head still hurts a little, and I’m really tired.”

He nodded, then his eyes darted over to me.

“Before we talk any further about your injuries, I want to make sure you’re comfortable with your visitor being in the room. There are privacy laws that protect you—”

“Oh, it’s fine to talk in front of Devon.”

I gave her hand a squeeze again.

“What do you remember from your accident?” the doctor asked.

“Not a lot. I remember standing in the driveway and I was really scared, and then all of a sudden I got really tired, or woozy, I guess. And then I saw dark spots, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the emergency room.”

“Hmmm. Well, the police are going to want to talk to you about what happened, but as far as we can tell, it appears you passed out and hit your head against the concrete upon impact. We didn’t have any real information when you were brought in, so we ran some tests to try and determine what was wrong. It’s a good thing we did because otherwise we would have taken you to get some X-rays, which wouldn’t be good for the baby.”

“The what?” Grace asked, her voice shaky and weak.

“The baby. You’re pregnant. Based on the hCG levels, you’re probably only about two weeks along. Congratulations.”

I looked down at Grace and her eyes flashed up to mine, wide with surprise and disbelief.

“But, I can’t…. I’ve never….” Her words were falling from her mouth quickly, but I could tell she wasn’t able to process a full sentence.

“She’s been told before she can’t get pregnant naturally.”

“Listen, I’m no obstetrician, but I can tell when a woman is pregnant, and you definitely are.”

“This can’t be happening,” she murmured. “I don’t feel pregnant. I haven’t been sick or anything.”

“Like I said, it’s very early. It probably wouldn’t even show up on an over-the-counter test. But blood tests don’t lie. It’s too early for morning sickness. Give it about three weeks and you’ll be sick as a dog.” The doctor gave her a smile, but she just looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “However, this would explain the fainting. Some women experience fainting spells as a symptom of pregnancy. If it continues, you need to bring it up with your obstetrician. But seeing as how you were in a particularly stressful situation, the pregnancy could explain the fainting. Nothing else showed up on any of our tests to cause any concern.”

“No, there’s some mistake,” Grace stammered, blinking rapidly and looking confused. “Maybe you have someone else’s tests results mixed up with mine. Run the test again. I’m telling you I can’t get pregnant. My ovaries don’t even work. Please,” she begged, her voice wavering, “just run the test again.”

The doctor’s eyes caught mine.

“Could you please run the test again?”

He shrugged and walked to the computer, typing away, telling the nurse to run the test again.

Grace curled toward me, pulled my hand to her chest, and began to cry quietly. I ran my free hand over her hair, avoiding the area on the back of her head that was stitched up, trying to offer any kind of comfort I could.

All the while my mind was running a million miles an hour.

A baby?

Grace was pregnant?

And why was Grace not thrilled to hear she was pregnant? She seemed so upset. Obviously, it was a shock. Was she in shock? Suddenly,
I
was feeling weak. I looked behind me and saw a chair so I pulled it to the side of the bed, never letting go of Grace’s hand, and took a seat.

A baby.

With Grace.

So many emotions were warring for attention in the moment. I was scared, worried, confused, and surprised. But the loudest emotion, the one that was pulling rank on all the others, was elation.

“Everything is going to be all right, Grace. I promise.” I just kept whispering words of comfort to her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, and she continued to softly cry. She cried while the nurse took her blood, she cried while we waited for the results, and she cried when the doctor came back in and confirmed what he’d said before.

Grace was pregnant.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

Grace

Detectives took my statement and told me the man who’d shown up at my house was being charged with violating an injunction which was automatic since I’d had a restraining order against him. The guy had been found circling the neighborhood while the cops were still on-scene, stopped, questioned, and then taken into custody.

He’d also been armed.

The thing he was holding onto in his pocket had, indeed, been a handgun.

That got him an extra charge of attempted aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The detective told me the man had crumbled when interrogated and confessed. He also said he’d be in jail for a while, hoping that would ease my fears. And it did to a certain extent.

They’d released me from the hospital the next day after holding me one night for observation. Devon hadn’t left my side once.

Prescription in hand for pain meds that were safe for the baby, the doctor told me to make an appointment with my obstetrician in the next four to six weeks. They said the stitches would dissolve, but that I needed to have the wound on my head checked in seven to ten days. They told Devon to keep an eye out for signs of a concussion.

I listened to everything they said, but absolutely could not comprehend any of it.

I was pregnant.

Pregnant.

Me.

Clearly, it was some sick joke.

I was silent the entire way home.

So silent and so out of it, I didn’t even realize it wasn’t my home we were going to. Devon had driven me back to his house. He opened the car door for me, took my hand as I climbed out, and led me to the front door, not saying a word. He opened the front door, walked me in, and took me back to the bedroom, where I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Where are the kids?” I managed, noticing we were alone.

He looked surprised to hear my voice.

“They went home with my mom.”

“But your parents are sick.”

“They’ve got a bug, baby. They’ll survive. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“They were really scared, Devon,” I whispered.

“They were scared for you. They were afraid you were hurt. But they saw you were all right, and I feel like you need a minute, or a night, to let your brain catch up with what’s happening.”

My eyes finally sought his out, and when they connected, they filled with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried, the lid finally popping off the container I’d been stuffing my emotions into.

“Sorry for what?” Devon asked as he sat next to me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him.

“For everything,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry that man came here, that I put your children in danger. I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess of everything, and now that doctor thinks I’m pregnant and I’m sorry because even if I am, it won’t last, Devon. I’m not supposed to be able to get pregnant, so this is a mistake. And I’m sorry, so sorry, to bring you into this at all.”

“Grace,” he said as I collapsed against him, “you need to calm down.” Just like he had all day, he ran his hand along my hair, and I had to admit it was soothing, but there wasn’t any amount of comforting he could provide that would take away all the fear tearing me apart.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Devon. I wasn’t ever supposed to accidentally get pregnant. I’m so sorry.”

“Grace, I was there too. We both made the decision not to protect against pregnancy, together. This is something we’re in together, 100 percent. I don’t want you carrying this weight on your own, because you’re not alone. I’m right here.”

“You aren’t upset that I’m pregnant?” I asked, looking up at him.

“No, Grace. I’m not upset. Shocked? Yes. Surprised? Definitely. But I’m not upset. How can I be? I love you and somehow we made a baby against all the odds. We defied all the doctors who told you you’d never conceive, and our love made a baby. How could I be upset about that?” His hand came to cradle my face and he kissed me so softly it almost made me cry harder.

“I know he did two tests, but I just can’t believe it. I’ve got this sick feeling in my stomach that it’s all going to come crashing down and I’ll be left without a baby again.”

“There are definitely a lot of things that could go wrong, but it could also go right. You could carry this baby and be a mother just like you’ve always wanted.”

I shook my head, more tears staining my already wet cheeks.

“I can’t risk hoping for that.”

He nodded like he understood and pulled me into another hug.

That night I slept in Devon’s arms and in the morning he reluctantly agreed to my plan.

I didn’t want to talk about the pregnancy.

Until my obstetrician could confirm it and tell me it was a healthy pregnancy, I didn’t want to spend my time planning on a baby. I wanted to live our lives as normally as we could, and tell no one about the pregnancy. The fewer people who knew, the fewer people we’d have to tell when we inevitably lost the baby.

In one afternoon, that doctor had dangled the one thing I’d ever really wanted in front of me, and I couldn’t be so reckless as just to grab hold and hang on. I wouldn’t let myself be hurt that way again. I couldn’t survive that kind of devastation.

Devon didn’t like the plan, but he agreed, only if I agreed to some of his stipulations. In order for him to go along with my plan, I had to move in with him. He said he wanted me there every day and every night. I didn’t have to officially move out of my apartment, but he wanted me to bring enough clothes over so I didn’t have to go there every day, and he wanted us to live as a normal couple would.

I pretended as though I was a little put out by his request, but really, spending all my time with Devon, Ruby, and Jaxy was the best distraction. At least when I was around them I could pretend my mind wasn’t always on the child I wished for so desperately.

Even with my previous history, the obstetrician wouldn’t see me before I hit eight weeks. I tried to negotiate for an earlier appointment, but the scheduling nurse said it wouldn’t make a difference. If we wanted proof of a viable pregnancy, we’d have to wait for the eight-week scan—that’s when we’d be able to see the heartbeat.

Six weeks.

Six weeks of waiting for that appointment.

Six weeks that felt more like six years.

But Devon did exactly what I asked of him; he never mentioned the pregnancy or the baby.

At four weeks when my period never came, he was silent.

At five weeks when I went back to school and came home exhausted every day, napping and going to bed early, he said nothing.

At six weeks when I started vomiting every morning, he simply held my hair up and rubbed my back, saying not one word.

At seven weeks when I could no longer stand the smell of meat being grilled, I watched him smile, but he still said nothing.

At eight weeks when the doctor pointed to our baby on the screen, showing us the little fluttering of its heart, he finally leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You’re having my baby.”