All In
Book Three of the Complicated Parts Series
Three years earlier…
Preston
I’ve always hated hospitals. Which I suppose is pretty ironic, given my fondness for gambling and all.
However, the stakes here are much higher than any at a poker table.
And the risk isn’t worth the reward. Not when it’s life or death.
With a heavy sigh, I lean back in my chair. The ominous energy in the small NICU waiting room does nothing to ease my anxiety.
Quite the contrary...it makes me want to jump out the nearest window and escape.
Too bad the forceps squeezing my chest won’t let me.
Not until I know how he is.
Once the initial shock of what I was seeing passed and my brain processed that Becca was bleeding and the baby was in trouble, I jumped into action and grabbed a doctor walking down the hallway.
Everything after that is one big blur. Becca started crying. Hordes of medical people rushed in. Terms like elevated blood pressure and hemorrhaging were thrown around until finally someone in charge declared an emergency cesarean was the best option to save Becca.
Save her. Not the baby.
“What about him?”
Evidently, the fucked-up thing beating in my chest didn’t get the memo that the baby everyone was ignoring was no longer mine and therefore not my problem.
Unfortunately, the question I barked out was never answered because Becca’s grip on my hand went limp, and her eyes rolled back.
That’s when I was kicked out and someone led me to the waiting room.
The only update I’ve been given since then was that Becca’s condition had progressed to fair, but she couldn’t receive any visitors yet. When I asked about the baby, I was told to sit tight, and someone would find me.
But it feels like an eternity since then, and I’m tired of fucking waiting. A little over twenty-four hours ago, this baby was mine. I have a right to know how he’s doing. I have a right to know something.
Even if what they tell me is the outcome I’ve been refusing to let myself think about.
“Fuck this shit.”
My outburst earns me a few looks from the people in the waiting room, but I pay them no mind as I walk over to the locked doors.
Given I’m not medical staff, my only option is to wait for someone to come out so I can push past them and go in.
The opportunity arises a moment later, and I seize it, much to the horror of the woman I bulldoze.
“Hey! You’re not allowed to come in here without permission,” some nurse with a faint accent I can’t pinpoint hisses.
“I have been waiting for hours,” I growl, beyond irritated. “Someone was supposed to give me an update, but no one has. I need to know what—” I stop when I realize he doesn’t have a name. “What happened to Rebecca Dragoni’s baby.”
The nurse’s expression softens. “I understand your frustration, but this area is for parents and immediate family only. Same goes when it comes to sharing any confidential information.”
My ears ring with fury, and something painful stirs in my chest. Just yesterday, I was his family.
Dammit, this isn’t fair. None of this is fucking fair.
Fate—the cruel bitch—didn’t take the months of unconditional love I’ve accrued for my son with her when she ripped him away from me.
But, Christ, I wish she had. Things would be a hell of a lot easier.
“I’m...” My throat constricts, and I have to clear it. “It’s complicated...” I let my sentence trail off because divulging the ins and outs of this messed-up situation isn’t going to garner me any brownie points. “I’m family, okay?”
It’s risky. For all I know, Becca may have already told the staff the truth, but it’s the only hand I have to play.
The woman’s eyebrows draw together, assessing me. “I wasn’t aware, but I can’t tell you anything until I know your relation to the—”
“I’m his father.” The words are out of my mouth before I can process what I’m saying. All I know is, if she doesn’t tell me what happened in the next two minutes, I’ll no longer be responsible for my actions.
“You’re the father?”
“Isn’t that what I just fucking said?” I kick a nearby garbage can, sending it sailing to the other side of the hall. “And here I thought nurses were supposed to be relatively smart.”
When she stays silent, I leer at her. I’m so close to the end of my fuse, I can feel my hands tremble with the urge to wrap them around her neck and squeeze until she either tells me what I need to know, or her head detaches from her body like a Pez dispenser.
“I’m gonna need you to calm down.”
The flat delivery of her statement and blasé stance make it clear my attitude isn’t affecting her in the least. Broad is a seasoned pro.
My teeth grit as I silently curse my bad luck. The nurses moseying around us are all donning scrubs with cartoon characters and have sweet smiles plastered on their relatively young, cheerful faces. But not her. No, Nurse Ratched’s at least twenty years my senior, and her scrubs are about as bleak and uninviting as the expression on her face currently is. Whatever sympathy she had for me is now long gone.
Outright flirting with her won’t work, but I’m a desperate man at the end of his rope, so I try the next best thing. I level with her.
“Look—” I glance down at her name tag, and I honestly don’t know whether to laugh or shake my head because I’m certain getting past her is harder than trying to get past the actual pearly gates. “Neveah. I know you’re trying to do your job, and I respect you for—”
“The mother never mentioned anything about a father.” She crosses her arms. “And while I believe your intentions are good, you will not be getting any information until I can verify who you are and get permission from the mother.”
I match her stance. “I know it’s probably been a while, thus you may have forgotten how it works, but it takes two people to make a baby.” My eyes narrow. “Now tell me what happened to my son. Or better yet, point me in the direction of someone more competent so I can hear it from them and then report your dumb ass to the hospital.”
She raises a finger. “Threaten me all you want. I’m still not letting you go near that baby without approval.”
Hearing it confirmed outright makes the room sway. “He’s alive?”
Her eyes widen like a deer in headlights. “Did someone tell you otherwise?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was with her when she started bleeding and up until the doctor said she had to have an emergency cesarean and kicked me out of the room. But like I said before, no one told me anything about the baby. Only that Becca’s condition has improved.”
She sighs again. This time there’s no mistaking the hint of compassion in her expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. No one mentioned you came here with her.”
Not exactly, but I don’t bother correcting her. I’m too busy heading down the hallway.
“Not so fast. I still have to make a phone call and check with the mother about this. Do you have identification on you?”