Unexpected Fate (36 page)

In the end, we were helpless and in a situation beyond our control. Had it not been for their swift response, I have no doubt that both the baby and I would have died in that apartment.

Chance is another part of the reason I’ve been struggling with so much pain. It kills me that he blamed himself—likely still does. But until he’s ready to cope with that and work on healing, I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can do.

It’s been easier. He comes around, but I notice that his eyes never leave mine. Like he’s afraid to look away for fear that someone might attack. He threw himself into the investigation of Mark Seymour like a man possessed.

We found out about two weeks after I was released from the hospital that Mark had been staying in the apartment directly under Cohen’s. Not only had he been watching me for over a year, but he had also had a sick collection of photos of him and me that were horribly Photoshopped. He had created a whole fantasy life—albums after albums of us.

If that weren’t bad enough, he had set up the apartment with items of mine that he had stolen throughout the year. Things I hadn’t even known were missing. He had a whole life made up for us, and the only thing that was missing was . . . me.

After his death, the police were able to locate the bodies of the two men he had slain before he’d stormed us that day. He had left detailed notes about where he’d tossed their bodies. At least, with that, their families would get some closure.

It’s been hard for everyone. We are struggling with just how insane the man who almost stole my life before it could truly begin was, but we’re all slowly healing. Today will be a big step in that process.

“I can’t wait to get him home, Cohen. To show him the house and have him under our roof.”

Cohen reaches over and grabs my hand, the one he placed a ridiculously huge diamond on three weeks ago—without proposing. “Same here, Dani-girl. It’s going to feel damn good to have my family together in our home.” He kisses my knuckles, flicks my ring with his thumb, and looks out the windshield with a huge grin.

We make it to the hospital in record time and have our son discharged and strapped to his car seat as soon as the last form is signed. I hug all the nurses we had gotten to know over the last month, and we make quick work of leaving the hospital behind on our way back to our house.

It is past time to get our family home.

Owen—meaning little fighter—James Cage. Our gorgeous son. I smile to myself and look over at his sleeping face from my spot in the back seat.

Just like Cohen said, Owen looks just like him. His dark hair, tan skin, and perfectly handsome face.

But those lips are all mine.

IT’S BEEN TWO WEEKS SINCE we brought Owen home from the hospital, and leaving him today for my six-week checkup was harder than I ever imagined. Cohen and I had agreed that, since the visit would be a short one and I could pump any milk Cohen would need to feed him while I was gone, I would use this as a dry run to leave the baby.

In the last two weeks, I’ve struggled to do something as mundane as take a shower. The fear I’ve had over letting him out of my sight is unexplainable. I know Cohen is worried about me, so I agreed with him more or less to placate his concerns.

But sitting here, with the paper sheet over my naked bottom half while my ass sits on the cold chair, isn’t making me feel like I’ve hit some big milestone. It makes me feel like I need to have my baby in my arms.

“I think it’s time to stop freaking out, Dani.”

I look up, meet my mom’s eyes, and give her a small smile. I don’t even try to hide my mild embarrassment.

“I understand how you feel, my darling girl, but leaving your son for a few hours isn’t the end of the world. It’s good for him to bond with his father alone—or his grandparents. I’m not saying you should start planning vacations, but sitting at home day in and day out while never letting him out of your sight isn’t healthy.”

I sigh. “I know.” And I do. I know it isn’t normal, but I can’t seem to get my body to get with the program and physically leave him.

“If it would make you feel better, we can call Cohen. He can give you the reassurance that you need.”

I shake my head, knowing that, if I call home thirty minutes after leaving to check on Owen, all it will do is make Cohen worry about me more. “No. I trust Cohen, and I know he won’t let anything happen to Owen. I just need to get over my issues that something bad is going to happen. Ever since the whole . . . Mark thing, I keep thinking that something else is going to come and take away my happiness.”

Mom sighs and walks over to me, grabbing my hand and looking me in the eyes. “There isn’t one thing in this life that’s a guarantee, Dani. Nothing. I’ve lived a life that I can say that with clarity. But if you continue to have yourself stuck in the past of worry and fear, there is no way you’re going to be able to enjoy the life and future you hold in your hands.”

I study her face, finding love in her eyes and the hope that I understand what she’s saying.

“I need to get out of my head,” I respond.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You need to get out of your head,” she says with another big smile.

I felt a little better after my doctor’s visit. The two hours I had been gone from the house didn’t feel as stifling by the time Mom pulled us back up to the house and I rushed through the door, eager to see my boys.

I smile when I hear Cohen muttering to the television at whatever sports show he’s watching. When I round the corner and see him sitting in our big, overstuffed chair with Owen laying on his naked chest, my heart swells. He has his thick hand resting under the baby’s diaper-padded bum, and I smile when I see Owen’s big, round—blue for the moment—eyes looking off at nothing. His fist is pulled up to his thick, Cupid-bowed lips, and he’s sucking away while his father explains to him the finer points of football.

“You look cozy,” I hum. Walking around the couch, I slide onto Cohen’s lap and run my fingers over Owen’s silky-smooth skin. “How was he?”

“Fine, Dani-girl. Just like I told you he would be. You’re looking at the extent of our day of fun.”

“Oh, a little party animal, huh?” I joke.

“What did the doctor say?” Cohen asks, shifting his weight so that I can crawl into the chair next to him.

I place my head against his shoulder and look into Owen’s eyes. I lay my hand against his back, and Cohen’s rests over mine.

“Everything looks good on the healing end. He still wants me to wait a few more weeks before we resume any sexual activities or exercising. I think that, with everything that happened, he just wants to make sure my body has time to heal. Especially since I explained that our workouts tend to be a little . . . vigorous.”

“Vigorous, huh?” Cohen laughs. “Everything else looked okay though?”

“Yeah.” I pause and look up at him. “I talked to him about my separation anxiety, and he’s given me some antidepressant medication to take for a while. Given everything we’ve been through, I think it’s a good call. But I feel a lot better abut not being around Owen all of the time. Leaving today helped a lot.”

“I’m glad, baby. I was worried.”

“I know you were and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I love that you love our boy so much that you don’t want to be without him, but you have to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself too. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you, Dani-girl.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him—not for the first time.

“Yeah, baby, and neither is our boy.”

I look up at him, and I think for the first time that I really get what he’s trying to tell me and has been trying to impress upon me since we got home with Owen.

I nod my head and give him a smile before returning my head to his shoulder so that I can look into our boy’s eyes. I let the love I feel for both of these people wrap around me, and I fall asleep while Cohen holds us both safe within his arms.

OWEN’S TAKEN TO THE CHANGE from hospital to home like a champ. Though I’m not shocked that my son is perfect. He’s a calm baby who only fusses when he wants to eat. Or when he wants his mother’s attention, but I can’t fault him there. When I want his mother’s attention, I get fussy too. The first month home was a slight challenge. Between Dani’s not wanting and not feeling like she couldn’t leave our son and our getting used to having a little human to care for, we were slow in adjusting to our new life. Now, though? Now, we’re freaking pros.

Dani has gotten so much better about leaving Owen. It started small. The doctor visit, then a quick run to the store, and eventually, she was able to leave without thought. Of course, I think a lot of that had to do with her finally realizing that, by letting her fear consume her, she wasn’t able to enjoy the life we had.

I walk down the hall in search of my woman. She took Owen to his room to get him dressed for the day out, and I haven’t seen her in almost thirty minutes. Which usually means she’s breastfeeding.

Not shockingly, the sight of her breastfeeding my son has been a major turn-on for me. Since she isn’t clear for sex yet, the fact that I almost come in my pants when she pulls her swollen tits out and I see them leaking with milk . . . Yeah, she started leaving the room when Owen needed to eat after that. I have no clue why I find it so fucking hot, but when I see her tits leak, all I can think about is pushing them together and fucking her tits while her milk works as lube.