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The Rockers' Babies

Page 52

   


“But…”
“Mom’s right, Lu,” Jesse told her as he stepped beside me and leaned forward to kiss the top of Lucy’s head. “Now close your eyes and rest. It’s been a long night and you’re exhausted.”
Whether it was the medicine or if she really was completely exhausted, Lucy didn’t try to protest and closed her eye. Moments later her breathing evened out and she was asleep.
Nik
I left the ER after the doctor had come back to tell us that Lucy was okay. No broken bones in her face. The bruising would keep her a symphony of colors the next few weeks and she had to have a stitch in her top lip and one in her bottom. Other than that she was fine and good to go home. Layla made Jesse take her home so Shane and Harper drove them while Lana and Drake helped Layla back up to her room.
Now, as I stood outside of Emmie’s private room on the same floor as Layla, I paused. I couldn’t go in there just yet. Not with Mia sleeping with her mother and me still shaking with the rage that lingered even after I had smashed Vince Grady’s face into an unrecognizable mess. My soul hadn’t been satisfied with the bloody pile Jesse had left the man. I needed to add to the damage to avenge my woman. I wanted to rewind and do it all over again. Stomp my boot into his face, his chest, his groin. Cracking, breaking, shattering bone.
“Are you okay, Mr. Armstrong?”
My head snapped up to find the two guards standing on either side of the hospital room door staring at me with concern. I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t even noticed them, which was nearly impossible with the size of the two guards. Shaking my head to clear it of the images that were still flashing through my head, I shrugged. “It’s been a long night, man.”
The guard who had spoken to me nodded. The entire staff knew most of what had happened tonight. Extra security had been added to the maternity floor once Emmie had been placed in her room. “Understandable, sir. You should go on in. The nurse was just in and said that the ultrasound will be done in just a few minutes.”
That had me pushing everything else to the back of my mind, unimportant in the face of seeing the child I had created with Emmie soon. I opened the door and took two steps inside only to stop at the sight before me.
Emmie, her eyes closed with her hair spread over a pillow that was as flat as the bed she was in. Mia was sound asleep, snoring as she lay across her mother in a position only my daughter could perfect: her little behind in the air, her head buried in her mother’s chest, one arm around Emmie’s neck, the other clutching the blanket that was pulled up around her.
The sight of Emmie’s face made my stomach churn. She was black and blue and purple. The gash on her head was bandaged but I could still remember how bad that wound had been, how it had started to bleed at the drop of a hat every time she so much as moved the wrong way. Seeing her like this made me want to find Grady and finish the job. That fucker didn’t deserve to live. Didn’t deserve to breathe when he had been the reason my wife was hurt and lying in a hospital bed with the fear of a miscarriage hanging over both our heads.
Sensing me, Emmie’s eyes lifted. When she spotted me by the door she lifted her free hand, silently asking me to go to her. I crossed the space that divided us in less than a second and caught hold of her hand. Bending, I kissed her palm. “How are you feeling?” I asked as quietly as possible. “Are you hurting?”
“Stop worrying,” she murmured with a smile. “I’m fine. The baby is fine. They listened for the heartbeat just a little while ago and it was strong. The tech will be here soon so we can make sure everything is fine… How’s Lucy?”
“Nothing broken. Two stitches. Her eye is the worst, though. It’s going to be swollen shut for a few days at least.” I carefully sat on the edge of the bed, keeping hold of her hand. “Jesse took her home.”
“A good night’s sleep will help everyone.” She yawned and I suddenly felt bone tired. There was no way I was going home tonight, though. I’d camp out in one of the chairs beside the bed and Mia could sleep with Em. I would climb the walls at home all night long. “You were right…”
I blinked, because I was sure that I had heard her wrong. No way had she just said I was right. Right? “Of course I was… What was I right about, again?”
A soft snort escaped her. “About the assistants thing. But I don’t want Natalie to find them for me. I’ll find them myself. I was thinking about turning the guest house into my office. It’s about the right size for a few more employees. That way we won’t have so many people in the house around the kids. And… I want to hire a nanny. Someone with an Early Education background. I know we’ve already discussed that, but I wasn’t really one hundred percent on board until now.”
I grinned, because I had known all of that. She had agreed too quickly when I had told her that was what I wanted her to do. I was just glad that she had finally seen things clearly. Emmie was on the same scale as Wonder Woman, she was so kick-ass. But even Wonder Woman couldn’t save the entire world on her own. She needed Superman and Batman every now and then. “I’m glad. You have to eat and sleep sometime, baby girl. With the added help for work and the kids you’ll be able to do more, go further with all of this.”
When we had fired Rich Branson as our manager, turning everything over to Emmie—something that she was doing anyway—I hadn’t really thought of all the extra hard work she would have to do. She never complained, always seemed on top of everything. And even now she still was with OtherWorld added to the mix. But with talks of her adding a few other bands that we knew—bands that would kill to have Emmie representing them in any shape or form because of how great she was with us—I knew she was going to be over-extending herself. No person could handle all of that with just one assistant who lived on the other side of the country.
It took the tech another ten minutes before he showed up. I carefully lifted Mia into my arms so that the guy could do his job. He put the little wand inside of Emmie and moments later the room was filled with the sound of our child’s heartbeat. My arms tightened around Mia, remembering the first time I had heard her heart beat and seen her on a screen just like I was watching right now.
The tech started asking Emmie questions and punching in some numbers as he took measurements. “Okay, Mrs. Armstrong,” the short man said after a few more minutes while I just kept staring in awe at the screen on the ultrasound machine. “Looks like you are just a little over eight weeks pregnant. From all the measurements your due date will be June eighteenth.” He smiled as he pulled a few pictures free from the machine and handed them over. “Congratulations on the addition to your family.”