Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She tries to sidestep me.
I hold my arm out, stopping her. “I, uh, sorry. Just have stuff on my mind. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“So I gathered.”
Feeling like an absolute asshole, I lean down and press a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Her tart tone doesn’t sound all that eager to hear from me.
But I can’t do anything about it now.
She moves past me.
If I turn around and watch her leave, I’ll probably follow her. And I need to get this over with.
Dread follows me as I navigate the corridors to Serena’s room. Machines beeping, babies crying, nurses hurrying from room to room, all of it brings back memories I’ve worked hard to bury.
I stop outside Serena’s room. The door stands half open. I tap my knuckles against it. Grinder appears from behind a white curtain. He smiles and nods for me to come in. The first bed seems to be empty. That’s good. I hope it means Serena has some peace while she’s here.
“Thanks for coming, brother.” Grinder holds out his hand and I take it. He pulls me in for a quick hug.
“Congratulations,” I manage to say. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine,” he answers in a wry tone. “I didn’t do a damn thing. Except worry.”
“That’s not true,” Serena rasps. She sits up and offers a weak smile. “Hi, Dex.”
Serena’s pale, tired face sends a bolt of fear straight through my gut. “You all right, sweetheart?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” Serena lets out a soft laugh and leans over to peer in the small hospital bassinet next to her bed. “I mean, I just pushed a watermelon through a lemon, but other than that, I’m okay.”
Dear God, didn’t Emily say something similar? I blink as the mental image forms in my brain against my will. “Thanks for the visual.” I mean it to be teasing but it sounds more like a scolding.
Serena’s nose wrinkles and she touches her index finger and thumb together, forming a circle. “Maybe a grape? It did not feel big enough for what I endured.”
“Okay, I got it,” I say.
She wiggles her fingers at me. “Come meet Lincoln, Dex.”
Steeling myself, I step closer and peek into the crib. All that’s visible is the baby’s face. Red, splotchy little cheeks, closed eyes, little blue cap on his head. He’s bundled in a white blanket with blue stripes. His little lips move in his sleep as if he’s safe and content. He almost seems too small and perfect for such a large and evil world.
My lungs constrict.
Grinder and Serena have both gone silent. I lift my gaze and find Grinder watching me with a frown. Something, anything to break the silence swims through my head. I open my mouth to crack a joke about how the baby’s too tiny to possibly be Grinder’s. Thank fuck, I stop myself. What a shitty, disrespectful thing to say.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Grinder grunts and bumps me away from his ol’ lady’s bedside. “You need anything, buttercup?” he asks.
She peers up at him with hope and affection in her eyes. “More water?”
Grinder nudges me with his elbow. “Dex and I will be right back.”
“You need help for getting some water, old man?” I ask. There. That’s better. Familiar territory.
“Stop running your mouth and move your ass,” he grumbles.
Serena’s soft laughter follows us as we step out of the room.
“He’s a beautiful baby, Grinder. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Dex.” He pats my shoulder. “Walk with me.”
The last thing I feel like doing is walking through the maternity ward. I’m not intimately acquainted with how this hospital is structured but if he gets me anywhere near the neonatal unit, I’m out of here.
But he stops at a small lounge area with a kitchen and goes straight for a stack of plastic pitchers, picking one up and setting it on the counter.
“I wanted to give you a heads-up,” he says.
“About?” I stuff my hands in my pockets and breathe through my mouth. The crisp, antiseptic smell permeating the hospital is starting to get to me.
“Serena and I would like you to be Lincoln’s godfather,” he announces.
I stare at him. I know what all those words mean but I don’t understand why he’s directing them at me.
He drills me with a hard stare. “Dex?”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“I’m not married. Don’t you usually want a married couple to be the godparents?”
“Gee, I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before,” he answers with a heaping dose of sarcasm.
“Wouldn’t you rather have Rock do it?”
Grinder glares at me. “I’m asking you.”
“Or Z? Z’s your president now.”
“Thank you for educating me on the hierarchy of the club, Dixon. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“I…I don’t know anything about being a godfather.”
“Perfect. I know fuck-all about being a father.”