Authors: Casey Clipper
Jon didn't hesitate further. "While Trent was working for me, he took orders. Nothing major. Little tasks and runs here and there to see how he'd accomplish them. I found out he was also working on the side for Valinti, which as you know‒"
Derrick interrupted, "Is not allowed."
"Yes,” Jon agreed. He snagged the new drink from the waitress and took a nervous gulp. "Well, I'd given him a run, fifty-k, to take to Carl for the eight o'clock football game. Apparently Valinti had also given him seventy-five, which he decided to take across town to try and make a killing."
"Sampson," Derrick growled.
Dwight Samson was a well-known thug who worked across town. Nothing more than a mere thief. The man didn't have an honest bone in his body. He'd boldly rob you blind right in front of you. His reputation proceeded itself. Sampson loved taking money from the Murphy organization since he'd never been allowed into the fold. They didn't deal with punks.
"Yes, Samson," Jon said. He sat back in his seat and blew out a long breath. "Trent thought he could triple the money and give the extra earnings to Darren. He'd take the credit and hopefully launch himself closer to the two of you, or at the very least Jack and Carl."
"But he lost every dime." The outcome would be obvious to Derrick and anyone else in their organization. There was no such thing as easy money.
Jon nodded. "And then he robbed Mrs. Valinti of her fine jewelry to pay for the debt. At least we all believe it was him. He had to get the money back and not end up with broken bones or dead in a ditch." Jon drank the rest of his whiskey. "He was spotted driving away from their house just after the time it'd been robbed. They'd gone out to dinner. No one could prove he was the thief, but trust me when I say Valinti tried to get it out of the kid." Jon sighed. "The kid is run by ambition and self preservation. Not a good combo."
"My brother got his money then?" Derrick asked.
"Of course," Jon squeaked out. "Even if Trent hadn't gotten the money, you know damn well that Valinti and I would've paid out of our own pockets. The money had been delivered without incident, two days late, but it made it there." Jon leaned in, resting his forearms on the table. "Derrick, Trent works for himself and always works for the highest bidder no matter who that is. He's not truly loyal. He'll throw anyone, and I mean anyone, under the bus if it gets him a big payday and further up the food chain." He took a deep breath. "Mrs. Murphy included." He looked around to make sure no one else could hear him. "The rumor is Trent seduced Mrs. Valinti in order to gain access to her safe. Once again, a rumor that hasn't been proven."
Derrick was afraid of that. Someone managed to work their way into Darren's inner circle, and if everything Jon spouted was true, then it made sense that Trent made the ultimate betrayal of his family. The question was, if Treat could be bought, then someone paid him to kill Darren. Who? But most important, he needed to keep his wife the fuck away from the kid.
Courtney
Seated at the dining room table, lights dimmed and candles flickering, creating a romantic ambience, Mary just served Courtney and Derrick their dinner. Neither said too much to each other. All their dinners were the same since they'd married. They didn't seem to have the bond that Courtney and Darren shared and it bothered both of them. Courtney hated to compare her marriages, but her conversations with Darren had easily flowed. They would laugh and joke with each other as if they were the silliest people in the world. Courtney and Derrick were the total opposite. Their silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was plain silence. They didn't look for unnecessary discussions. That was mostly due to Derrick's personality. If he had nothing to say he refused to fill the space with mindless chatter.
But the main reason for their quiet dinners was their relationship had changed from carefree sister-in-law and dark, brooding brother-in-law to husband and wife. Thrown together by unforeseen circumstances.
Nervous about the topic she wanted to discuss with Derrick, Courtney pushed her food around her plate, deciding how to approach the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.
"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Derrick asked. He placed his palm over her right hand to halt her distraction. He pulled the fork out of her hand. She couldn't help but to smile. Derrick was uncommonly observant when it came to her every tiny motion, facial expression, and body movement. His watchful eyes missed nothing.
She smiled affectionately. "How did you know?"
"I'm getting to know you better. You have little nervous habits when there's something you want to talk about but are afraid to approach me. Which means you're afraid of my reaction or hurting me," Derrick answered.
Her vision blurred.
"It's okay, honey, just tell me," he coaxed.
"It's about the baby," Courtney said hesitantly.
"Okay," he said slowly.
"I want to put Darren as the father on the birth certificate," she said.
Derrick's features softened, his eyes filled with love and adoration. He reached up and wiped away a tear that escaped. "Of course," he said. "Darren's the baby's father. He'd be thrilled to know his name is on the birth certificate."
"But what about you?" she asked.
"I'll adopt our baby, Courtney," he said.
"You'll do that? Even though it'll cost money and have to go through court?" she asked.
"Baby, I'll do anything you need or want. If this is what you need, then so be it. No amount of money will matter," he answered firmly.
She bolted out of her chair, flung herself into his arms, and buried her head into his neck. She soaked his collar with her tears.
"Derrick," she hiccupped.
His sinewy arms engulfed her, pulling her closer against him. He kissed her cheek and stroked her spine. He whispered, "I love you, Courtney. I'll do anything for you."
That profession made Courtney sob even harder. She loved Derrick. Truly she did. But not the same as Darren, and she didn't know if she ever would love him the way he deserved. But with such declarations, a space in her heart for him grew larger every day.
***
Around eight in the morning, Derrick had left for work after sitting down to breakfast with Courtney. A daily routine they'd developed. She didn't feel well when she woke and decided to spend the day lounging. Derrick left messages with Sean and Ryan asking them to check on her.
All morning Courtney laid on the sofa and sipped her juice and water. Mary fussed and checked on her every few minutes. Courtney then heard the woman repeatedly report her condition to Carl. She also heard Mary voice she thought the baby was on the way and would join them within the next twenty-four hours.
Courtney had fallen asleep at some point and was startled awake by Ryan.
"It's me, Court," Ryan soothed.
Dramatically, she flung herself back and closed her eyes. "You scared the shit out of me, Ryan."
"Sorry. You feel warm. I got Derrick's message," he said. "How are you feeling?"
"Like crap." Her body jerked. "Ryan," she whispered, frightened.
"What?" he asked concerned.
"I feel like I just peed myself," she said.
"Oh." He jumped up, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed his brother. Apparently Sean answered immediately. "Sean, Courtney's water just broke."
Ryan lifted the blanket and sure enough, she soaked through her sweats and left an enormous water spot on the expensive sofa. "Okay," he answered, then hung up the phone. "Okay, gorgeous, let's get you upstairs. You're undoubtedly in labor. I need to get an antibiotic IV started because of your fever."
"Derrick," Courtney panicked. "You need to call, Derrick."
"I will. Come," Ryan said. He bent down and helped Courtney to her feet. "Who's here with you today?"
"Carl."
"Carl," Ryan yelled. "Mary!"
Mary was in the living room in a flash, while Carl hurried behind her. His limp evident.
"Mr. Millen, I didn't hear you come in," Mary started to apologize. "Can I‒"
"Courtney's in labor, her water just broke. Someone needs to contact Derrick. Courtney wants him here now," he insisted, scooping her up and carrying her towards the steps.
"Yes, sir," Carl said, disappearing into the home office.
"What do you need, Mr. Millen?" Mary asked aflutter, following behind.
"Ice chips for Courtney. Thank you, Mary," Ryan said. He carried his cousin upstairs into the makeshift delivery room to prep her to bring baby boy or girl Murphy into the world.
Derrick
Derrick was discussing Trent with Jack when his office phone rang. He ignored it and allowed his incompetent secretary to answer the call.
"Mr. Murphy, Carl is on line one for you," she said through the intercom.
He picked up the phone. "Carl."
"Courtney's in labor, Derrick. Her water broke," Carl rushed out.
Derrick heard Mary in the background, something about ice chips.
Jumping out of his chair, he barked, "Call Ryan and Sean."
Jack was on his feet and ran out the door to retrieve the car.
"Ryan's already here. Her water broke while he was checking on her," Carl explained. "He has her upstairs," he said. "She's asking for you, Derrick."
Derrick's heart swelled. Courtney needed him. She'd asked for him. That was an enormous leap in their relationship.
"Tell her I'm on my way," he ordered and slammed down the phone. He rushed out the door to get to his wife.
***
Courtney
Never in her life had Courtney experienced such searing pain. Screaming in agony, she felt as if her insides were tearing apart. That any moment an alien would crawl its way out of her stomach.
Ryan had given her an IV of antibiotics for her one hundred point six degree fever. Not long after, Sean arrived and finished prepping her with the appropriate equipment.
"Derrick," she screamed when another contraction ripped through her stomach.
"He'll be here soon, sweetheart," Ryan assured her. He brushed her sweat soaked hair off her face.
"What's taking him so long?" she cried.
"It hasn't been that long, honey," Sean promised.
On cue, Derrick burst into the room.
"I'm here, honey," Derrick said hastily. He peeled off his jacket and tossed it on the floor. He took her hand and kissed the back of it.
"It's killing me," she cried out.
Derrick looked up at Sean. "Epidural?"
Sean shook his head. "The baby's heart rate drops when we attempted the epidural. I'm sorry, sweetheart, you're going to have to do this naturally," he explained.
"Bite me, Sean, give me the fucking epidural," she snarled.