Tempting Tatum (35 page)

“Are you the family of Tatum Thompson?” he asks.

“Yes,” we all say. I stop pacing and turn to face him.

“I need immediate family,” he says, unsure.

“She has no immediate family. She’s my best friend and this is her fiancé,” Leah says without missing a beat. I’m glad to see she and I are on the same page.

“No immediate family?” the doctor repeats her words.

Brent opens his mouth to intervene, but I beat him to it. “I am her immediate family. That girl you have in there, she fucking owns me, heart and soul. I need for you to take me to her. She needs to know I’m here,” I say, my voice hard.

“Dr. Jones is it?” Brent asks. He holds his hand out. “Dr. Brent Wethington. I have privileges here as well. I know this is against policy, but as a fellow physician, I can verify what he says is true. In fact, my wife has power of attorney over Tatum should an event like this occur,” he tells him.

Leah’s face pales; she apparently forgot, not that I blame her with all that has gone on tonight. “That’s right, it’s on file here at the hospital. I give full permission for her fiancé, Blaise Richards, to have full access to her and her care.” She looks around the room. “Everyone in this room is her family now,” she says quietly. “We all love her. Can you please just tell us what you know?” she pleads.

Releasing a deep breath, Dr. Jones proceeds to tell us that Tatum has suffered a severe concussion. She has a gash on her head about two inches long and she lost a lot of blood. Her right ankle is broken, but does not require surgery. They are in the process of setting her up for casting now; then she will be moved into a private room.

“Is she awake? When can I see her?” I ask him.

Shaking his head no, he says, “She has not yet regained consciousness. Her scans are all normal; this is just her body’s way of dealing with the stress of her injuries. I expect her to make a full recovery. Once we have her cast in place, she will be moved to a private room, no more than two visitors at a time.” He looks down at the iPad in his hands. “As soon as we have her settled in her room, I’ll request a consult with Dr. Michaels who is the obstetrician on call tonight,” he says.

Obstetrician, wait…what? My confusion must have shown as well as the others’ because Dr. Jones begins to explain his previous statement.

“Our blood test shows that Ms. Thompson is pregnant. I’m sorry, I assumed as her fiancé that you knew,” he says.

I drop to my knees and run my fingers through my hair. Pregnant? A baby? I’m going to be a father. “I need to see her,” I say, my voice pleading.

“She doesn’t know. She would have told me. She doesn’t know,” Leah says as she quietly cries against Brent’s chest.

Dr. Jones, nods his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Richards, I assumed that you knew. I will send someone to alert you once we have her moved,” he says before turning and leaving us alone.

Pregnant. Everything I want is dangling in front of me by a thread. I bow my head to hide the tears. I see a small hand appear on my leg.

“Blaise, you have to stay strong for her. She needs you now more than ever.” Leah sniffs. “The last tragedy that hit her, she was left by—”

“Don’t!” I say, my voice angry. “Don’t you dare compare me to him,” I choke on the words.

“I’m not…I just…I want you to know that she loves you,” Leah says quietly.

A sob breaks from my chest at her words. Ember sits on the other side of me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. I lean into her. “I don’t know how to be me without her,” I whisper.

Nothing else is said. We all sit and wait, wait to hear she’s in a room so we can go to her. The doctor said he expects a full recovery, but the baby? “Oh, God, our baby. I need them both.”

After about an hour, the same doctor greets us. He tells us Tatum has been moved into a private room and we can go in two at a time. I don’t wait to see who’s coming with me. I’m on my feet making my way toward the elevators. All I know is I am half of that equation, and I will remain that way until my girl gets to come home. I’m not leaving her. The others will just have to take turns one at a time or break the two at a time rule. I. Am. Not. Leaving. Her.

I stand outside her door and take a deep breath. Exhaling, I slowly push open the door. As soon as my eyes land on her, wet hot tears fall from my eyes. She’s pale and connected to a bunch of wires. I walk to the side of the bed and grab her hand. It’s cold. Leaning down, I place a kiss on her temple before pulling a chair up beside the bed. I bring her fingers to my lips and pepper them with kisses.

“Hey, baby. It’s me, Blaise. You were in an accident, but the doctor says you’re going to be fine. I just need you to wake up for me.” I kiss her hand again. Reassuring myself that she’s here, she’s alive. “He actually gave me some exciting news that I can’t wait to share with you.” I place my hand gently against her belly. “I need you to wake up, Tate. I love you so much, baby,” I say, my voice gruff with tears and emotion.

I hear the door open and look up to see Leah. “Hey,” she says softly. I watch as she walks to the other side of the bed and grabs Tate’s other hand. “Listen, missy, I need you here with me. I need my best friend.” She looks at me. “Blaise is here. He loves you and needs you to wake up. Who else is going to keep him in line?” she jokes. I can’t help but smile at the effort.

Leaning down, she kisses Tate’s cheek. “I’m going to let the others have a turn. I’m not going anywhere,” she tells me. I nod in agreement and watch her walk away.

No sooner than she’s gone, the door opens and in walks Asher. I feel tears well up again at the sight of my twin. We’ve always had this freaky connection. I know he can feel my sorrow, just like I can with him. I can’t explain it, it just is. Instead of walking to the same side of the bed that Leah had, he heads straight for me. I’m on my feet ready to accept the hug I know is coming. “She’s gonna be okay, bro,” he whispers.

Pulling back from the hug, we both wipe our eyes. Asher begins to tell me about the drunk driver, how he did indeed walk away without a scratch and that he and Brent have already contacted an attorney. The sound of voices alert us as the door pushes open. In walk two women, one dressed in dark blue scrubs, the other…Beth.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss at her.

Her face pales as she looks between Asher and me. Her eyes travel to Tatum and her skin becomes ashen. “No,” she whispers.

“No, what? What the fuck are you doing here? I don’t want you anywhere near her,” I spit the words at her.

“Sir, you need to calm down. My name is Dr. Michaels. I am an obstetrician. Dr. Jones requested I consult with Ms. Thompson,” she explains.

“You,” I say, pointing to the doctor, “can stay. “She,” I say, pointing to Beth, “cannot.”

“Sir, this is my medical assistant. She will be assisting me with my consult on Ms. Thompson.” She turns to look at Beth and notices her ashen face as she stares at Tatum lying in her bed.

“Beth?” Dr. Michaels tries to get her attention.

“I’m sorry,” she barely whispers. “I let her drive. I didn’t think this would happen,” she says as she covers her face to hide the tears.

What. The. Fuck? “What are talking about? You let her drive? You need to explain now!” I say, my voice getting louder by the minute. My blood is boiling at the thought of Beth having something to do with Tatum’s accident.

“Beth?” Dr. Michaels asks again.

“I saw her earlier today in the grocery store. I had Emily with me and I told her… I told her you were Em’s dad. I told her you lied to her and I asked her to leave. I asked her to go so we would have a chance to be a family,” she cries.  “I saw her in the lot, she was upset.  I let her drive.” She wails. “I shouldn’t have done it.  I should have told her the truth when I saw how upset she was.” She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand.  “I’m so sorry.” She whispers.

“You did what?” This coming from Asher. I’m in shock at her words. Tatum thought I lied to her. She was driving upset. Not that I can blame her with what that fuckwad of an ex did to her, but I wish she would have come to me.

Finding my voice, I say, “Why would you lie to her like that? We had a paternity test. You know I’m not Emily’s father. You upset her and let her drive, and now look at her. She’s lying here in this hospital bed carrying my baby. Mine! This baby is mine and I want him or her more than my next breath.” I stop and take a deep breath. “Get the fuck out of my face. Don’t come near me or my family ever again.” Beth stands still, not moving. “Leave!” I roar.

I walk back to my chair and sit down. I clasp her hands with mine and lower my head to the bed as emotions wrack my body. I did this to her. My stupid ex caused her to be upset, to be driving upset. How will she ever forgive me?

It’s then I hear her sweet voice. “Blaise,” she says. I look up and see Tatum awake and watching me.

I hear voices, angry voices. I can tell one of them is Blaise. I struggle to open my eyes. The room gets quiet and I can feel someone squeezing my hands. I can smell him. I fight to force my eyes open. The pain in my head is excruciating, but I need to see him.

When I’m finally able to force them open, I see Blaise sitting beside me resting his head on the bed. “Blaise,” I croak out. My throat is so dry.

He whips his head up and faces me. His silver eyes filled with despair. “Hey you,” he whispers as he leans over and kisses my cheek. “I missed those beautiful green eyes,” he tells me.

“Ms. Thompson, my name is Dr. Michaels. Do you remember what happened to you?” she asks me.

Blaise brings a glass with a straw to my lips; I suck the water greedily. “Yeah. I was on my way back to Ohio when I needed to stop for gas. I got off on the exit ramp and stopped at the red light. The light turned green and I followed the car in front of me. The next thing I remember is the jolt of impact and blood. There was lots of blood.” I take another drink that Blaise offers as his eyes study me. He wants to know why I was going back to Ohio. I remember every word of my conversation with Beth; the question is do I believe her? This man here at my side, would he lie to me? No, I really don’t think he would. Funny how tragedy can make you see things in a better light.

Dr. Michaels taps away on her iPad. “The report says you were wearing your seat belt which is good. I need to do an ultrasound to make sure everything is okay with the baby,” she tells me.

“Wh—what? Baby?” I look at Blaise for clarification.

“I need to step out and find an MA. My last one was escorted out. I will be right back,” Dr. Michaels says as she leaves the room.

I look to Blaise. “Baby? What is she talking about?” I ask, confused. Does he know that I know about his daughter?

Blaise gently runs his finger down my cheek. “I have a lot to tell you. Just listen, okay?” he says, his voice gentle.

“First and foremost, I love you so fucking much. To think that I could have lost you.” He stops to get his emotions under control. “Second, the MA that Dr. Michaels was talking about is Beth, my ex Beth. When she saw you lying here, she came clean about the lie she told you about her daughter being mine. She’s not, Tate. I insisted on a paternity test the day she was born. I would never not be a part of my child’s life. I still have copies of the test at home in the safe. I will send Asher to get them,” he says calmly.

I try to shake my head no, but the pain prevents the sudden movement. “I don’t need to see it. I trust you.”

“Then why were you leaving town? You didn’t bother to tell me,” he questions.

“Honestly, I just wanted some time to wrap my head around this, us. We haven’t been together that long, yet it feels like a lifetime. I’m emotional from selling the house, and well, I just needed time,” I tell him.

He smiles at me. “Baby, it wasn’t just selling the house that has you emotional.” He stands up and leans over the bed so we are eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose. He rests his palm against my belly. “We’re having a baby,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “That’s why the obstetrician is here. She needs to make sure the baby is okay. Your doctor says you will make a full recovery; now we just have to worry about our little peanut here. Make sure all is fine,” he says, gently stroking my belly.