“What are you—” I stop talking when he turns a crying Jameson around so he’s lying against his bare chest.
All traces of frustration disappear from Preston as he rubs gentle circles up and down his back. “I know you’re afraid, JP. But I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
“No medicine,” Jameson says, although he’s a lot calmer now.
“I know you don’t want medicine.” Preston presses his lips to his head. “Do you remember why you have a dragon?”
Jameson nods. “The dragon protects me.”
My heart folds in on itself. I thought Preston got a dragon tattoo because it was cool looking.
Not because it was his thing with Jameson.
“That’s right,” Preston says as Jameson touches the tattoo on his bicep. “The dragon protected you when you were a baby and the doctors needed to give you medicine to make you big and strong.” Pure agony slashes his face. “And now they need to do that again.” He visibly swallows. “I know you’re scared, but your dragon is here and I’m here. We won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”
Jameson releases a shaky breath, solely focused on Preston’s tattoo now. “Dragon.”
“That’s right,” Preston says softly, waving the nurses over with his free hand. “That’s your dragon. Keep looking at him. He’ll keep you safe.” His eyes squeeze shut. “We both will.”
The nurses quickly rush to the other side and jump into action.
It’s clear Jameson doesn’t like what’s going on, but his eyes don’t leave the dragon…
All while Preston holds him tight, whispering that he’ll protect him over and over again.
My chest spasms and a lump fills my throat as memories pierce my heart.
I’ve seen that look before.
It’s the look of unconditional love from a parent who would do anything in the world for their child.
It’s exactly how my parents looked at me.
And how Preston always looks at Jameson.
They might not share the same DNA, but Preston is his dad.
“All done,” Preston tells him as they finish up. “You were so brave and strong. Just like your dragon.”
The doctor clears his throat again. “We’re going to admit him as soon as a room on the pediatric floor opens up.”
Preston clutches him tighter. “For how long?”
“It depends how well he responds to the antibiotics. A couple of days at least.” He turns on his heel. “I’ll return after the blood work comes back.”
“Prick,” Preston mutters under his breath.
I pull my chair up next to the bed and hold Jameson’s hand.
“Pinky,” he says between coughs.
Preston and I exchange a humorous glance. Pinky it is.
I bring his little hand to my lips. “Is there anything you want?”
Whatever it is, I will walk to the ends of the earth and back again to get it.
Jameson doesn’t answer, but Preston says, “Juice would be good. Apple is his favorite.”
I sprout up. “Apple it is.” I reach for my purse when the thought occurs to me. “I’m gonna hit up the gift shop and cafeteria downstairs.”
This way I can load up on snacks and toys for Jameson.
Preston pulls a face. “I guess we shouldn’t expect to see you until tomorrow then.”
“Very funny.” Leaning over, I give him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in ten. Twenty tops.” I press my lips to a now sleepy Jameson’s forehead. “I’ll make sure to bring back a PB and J sandwich.”
I start to leave, but Preston grabs my wrist. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I absolutely hate the circumstances, but I’m glad he’s letting me support him and Jameson.
I give him a smile. “I’ll be back soon.”
Chapter 51
Preston
Jameson finally fell asleep, so I take the opportunity to gently ease him off me so I can put my shirt back on.
The nurse from earlier pops her head inside. “It will be another couple of hours until he has a room on the floor. I can bring you some extra blankets in case you and your wife want to rest.”
I won’t be sleeping tonight, but Kit might. “Thanks.”
Being careful not to wake him or disturb the IV he has, I get back into bed. He coughs when I lay him back on my chest. The fluidly sound is like a punch to the gut.
I’d give his deadbeat mother a call, but there’s no point. She won’t answer, and if by some chance she actually does…she’ll be too drunk to come up here.
I’ll just call her in the morning and tell her what’s going on.
Not that she’ll give a fuck.
A sad fact Jameson is starting to pick up on.
I’ve tried to shield him as best as I could, always making excuses for her…but it’s only getting worse.
And he’s only getting older.
He might not talk much, but he’s smart. He observes. He knows.
It fucking guts me.
Especially because he wants her attention. Hell, he’s practically screaming for it…but Becca doesn’t hear him.
No wonder he’s so fucking anxious around her and refuses to talk. He’s probably terrified that if he does speak, he’ll say something wrong and upset her.
And then she’ll neglect him even more.
A trail of tension rides down my jaw and I grind my molars. Kit gave some very compelling reasons as to why I shouldn’t cut the brake lines in Becca’s car, but shit…it’s hard.
Every time I see her, I want to bash her head against the nearest wall in hopes it will rattle something in her brain and she’ll start being a decent mother.
But she won’t. Which is why I need to do something.
Since murder’s out of the question—thanks to my wife—I’m gonna approach gun-toting Nanna with my tail between my legs and ask if I can have the two million early.
There’s no question the money’s going to Kit now, but I don’t want to have to wait for her to drop dead for it to happen.
Jameson needs me now.
I’m drifting off when a voice slurs, “What happened to my baby?”
My eyes pop open and I come face-to-face with the she-devil herself.
Fuck.
Charlotte must have left her a message.
However, the only person I’m more surprised to see than Becca…
Is my old bookie Buster.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m his mother. Where else would I be?” Becca chirps as she approaches the bed.
“I meant him.”
Although the same question can certainly apply to her as well. I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s just past two in the morning. Otherwise known as her witching hour since that’s when she usually walks in the door.
Becca yanks a sleeping Jameson out of my arms. “He’s my boyfriend.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing because that’s some funny shit. Not only did I first meet Becca at his house, he’s a bookie…like both her uncles.
Brings a whole new meaning to keeping it in the family.