The Absolution of Aidan (The Syndicate Series Book 3) (27 page)

“Thank you, god,” Mom expresses, while I exhale the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

“I’ve done a meticulous evaluation of the surrounding tissues and joints, as well as his muscles and ligaments surrounding the wounded area. He’s going to be in pain when he wakes up, but I can assure you there will be no permanent damage. Your husband, your father, is going to recover.” I lose it then. All this built-up tension. The entire situation unfolding in front of me. I begin to cry. Hysterically. Uncontrollably.

Once again when I wake, I’m back in a hospital bed. Only this time when I crack my eyes open, it’s to a tired but very handsome face with a smile written all over it.

“Why are you smiling?” I say groggily. He just stares at me, eyes unblinking, emotions unreadable.

“I’ll tell you in a minute or two.” I try and sit up. My stomach is aching and my head is killing me. I reach around to the spot that’s hurting, only to discover a knot the size of a golf ball on the back of my skull. I wonder if that’s the same spot Matthew hit me in. I don’t know anything anymore. This entire night has been noting shy of a traumatic nightmare.

“You smacked your head hard when you passed out. Scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” I state. My sincere apology brings an even a bigger smile to his face. What game is he trying to play? The jerk. I’m not in the mood. I glance around the room. It’s not a normal hospital room. I’m confused.

“Where are we?” I utter, annoyed.

“In the emergency room. They brought you down here. Drew some blood. You’re fine, Deidre. You’ve only been out for an hour or so. You’re exhausted. The stress form the day took you under,” he declares.

“And my dad and Dilan? Are they both fine?” I remember the doctor telling us about my dad. I know nothing about Dilan. Surely, they must know something by now. Then before he can answer me, I search the small confinement we’re in. The curtains are drawn on both sides. There is no sign of my baby anywhere.

I sit up, not caring that dizziness or the fact I feel like throwing up makes it hard to force my words out of my mouth. I do though. Angrily. “Where’s Diesel?”

Aidan tries to gently press me back down. I don’t budge. “He’s not with her, is he?” His brows scrunch. “If you mean Alexis, no, baby. He’s not with her. He’s with Alina. She took him to check him out. And before you start to freak, he’s fine. Passed out in her arms, right outside in the waiting room.” I rub my hands up and down my face, laying my head back down, grateful and relieved he’s with Alina

“Did something happen? Why did she have to check him out?” Suddenly, I feel nauseous. I need to calm down. If he says he’s fine, then I believe him.

“Precaution, I guess. He’s a baby.” Here comes that smile again from him.

“All right, damn you. Why are you smiling? This has been a horrible day. If I’m fine, then I want out of here. I need to see my dad. So tell me, asshole.” I’m not up for this, whatever has happened he finds quite comical. He freaking starts to laugh. Like one of those throw your head back, deep, chuckling laughs.

“Sweet-tart. You’re pregnant.”

What in the hell did he just say?

SIX MONTHS LATER

My cock slides in and out of Deidre’s tight pussy. My hands are palming her breasts. Her tight ass is rocking back, taking me balls deep with every thrust I make. To say she’s starved to have me inside of her every chance she can get would be like me not feeding her when she says she’s hungry.

And I love it.

“Oh, god. You feel so good,” she moans. Not near as good as she does. I flick her nipples, which drives her out of her mind. The farther along she gets in her pregnancy, the more sensitive they become. I can’t keep my hands off of her.

“Harder,” she request. One thing about her, she is one horny woman while she’s pregnant, and I have no problem driving my cock into her harder. My girl loves it rough. Hell, she loves it period.

“How hard do you want it, baby?” I let go of her breasts, spread my hands around her growing stomach, and slam into her. She cries out, and god, does she undo me.

Especially now. She’s seven months along. Her bump is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I’ve adjusted my cock more times throughout the day whenever I think about her carrying my child. Christ, there is no way I can control the blood flow to my cock when it comes to her and her beauty.

I grip her long hair with one of my hands, yanking her head back. She lets out a small yelp. Like I said, she loves it rough. She loves it gentle, too. It all depends on what mood my sweet-tart is in.

One day she’s wacked out, forgetting shit, leaving the damn front door open. Forgetting Diesel’s diaper bag. Then she cries. That’s Make-Love-Night Deidre. Then the next day, she’s all up in my face because she thinks she’s gaining too much weight, and it’s my fault once again. That’s Fuck-Me-Hard-Night Deidre.

At first, I was like, “What in the ever-loving hell is wrong with you?” I had no idea pregnancy can send a woman’s hormones up in the air, and they reach up every damn day and pluck out what type of day it’s going to be. Crying or happy. Crazy or crazier. I just keep my damn mouth shut. No way am I sticking my own foot so far down my throat it becomes permanently stuck there.

Again, I love it.

She can’t blame me this time for getting her pregnant. Well, she can. She doesn’t, though. She’s the one that missed a day of taking her pill, not me. And she wasn’t complaining the night we conceived either. In fact, she never complained about being pregnant again so soon. She just passed out once again in the Emergency Room after I told her we were expecting.

I drive into her once more. Fucking hell. She squeezes, and my dick explodes inside of her. God, I love her. Every damn part.

“I love you, honey. Thank you for being you. For putting up with me and for having such a huge dick and knowing how to use it,” she pants. I pull out of her slowly, rise up off the bed, and walk into the bathroom to turn on the shower. Chuckling all the way at some of the things she says.

I know damn well she’s going to be half asleep when I peek out there. Sure as shit, she is. I stare at all the beauty that is my woman. She’s feisty, yet perfect.

She’s buried under the covers, her left hand draped around her belly. The ring I put on her finger last weekend on our date glistening. I didn’t get down on one knee, that shit isn’t me, nor is it her. However, I did try and make it as special as I could for her. I slipped it inside the small diaper bag she carries with us when we go out. The look on her face when she saw that aqua-colored box inside is a look saved for me. That’s mine. One I will never forget. I shrugged. She cried. Then I proceeded to tell her I figured my sons had my last name that their baby momma should, too. That got her laughing, right along with Diesel who had no idea what he was laughing at. It’s not an ordinary wedding ring. There is nothing about the crazy longing we have for each other that’s ordinary. We love each other, that’s all that matters. It’s what they call an Emerald cut diamond. What makes it stand out from all the others is that the stone sits sideways instead of the traditional way. Or so the sales lady told me. All I knew is that when I spotted it in the display case, I had to have it.

Our dates, like every other one we go on, consist of walks in the park. Right now, it’s the dead of winter. Still doesn’t stop the three of us from bundling up and going outside. Even if it’s only for a few minutes. This is what she wants to do. No matter if our son will remember it or not. She says
we
will. And we will. The memories we’re building together as a family will last a lifetime.

The one time the two of us did leave the state was to go see my land. We left Diesel with her mom for the day. I wanted her to see the beauty of it that I do. It was fucking phenomenal to witness her expression as she took in all the trees and the river that winds down the back side of the property.

And Christ, the look on her face when she saw me standing by the river with my shirt off and my hands tucked into the front of an old pair of cargo pants, thinking about the times I came out there with my grandfather. Fuck. If she hadn’t already been pregnant, she definitely would have been that afternoon.

“Get your hands out of your pants!” she screamed like she was dying. I choked on her phrase, stuck my hand down farther just to antagonize her more. By the time she had marched her sweet little ass up alongside me, I had my cock harder than the damn rocks sticking out of the river. She dropped to her knees, shoving my hands out of her way. She gripped and tugged my pants down until they lay pooled around my feet. Then she took me deep in her mouth in the middle of the day, sun blazing, her pitch-black hair shining from that hot sun. She had me kneeling down beside her in minutes, ripping her panties clean off of her, and fucking the hell out of her. Twice.

And the holiday season. I’ve never had a Christmas like the one we had, nor will I forget the look on her face when she opened up her gifts. I bought her every Detroit Tiger item I could find. She was pissed. Until she saw the only item in her stocking. Then I was forgiven. Even though I can’t see it right now, I know she has it on. Adorning her delicate neck. It’s not much, but to her, it was everything. Call me a romantic, because my ass actually stepped inside a jewelry store. I knew exactly what I wanted when I walked inside Tiffany’s. They had them. Two interlocking hearts. Until I met her, mine wasn’t even beating. Now, it thrives every damn day to get home to her.

Again. I love it. And Christ, I love her and the life we’re building.

We also do dinner with all of our friends. Anywhere we can take Diesel with us, we go. Being with her is the best thing that’s happened to me. Right now, though, I need to quit day- dreaming and wake her fucking ass up. I’ve got a lifetime with my family to make good memories.

“Deidre, get your ass up. You only have a few hours to get ready before you have to meet the girls.”

“Oh, shit.” This comes from her. She flings the covers off of her, those sexy legs fall to the side of the bed, and god, my dick gets hard again when she scrambles my way. Her belly as well as every part of her takes my breath away.

“You joining me?” she challenges me as she slides her finger up my dick. I’d be a damn fool to say no. I’ll join her all right. She may be late to her girl’s morning, but fuck it. What she wants, she gets.

Another round of sex later, where this time I held her up against the tiled shower wall and made mad, passionate love to her, I’m bathing Diesel while she’s frantically running around, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything. At least she’s not swearing.

My mind drifts while I sit on the floor and watch my son play in the tub.

Why after a great morning do I think back to that night from hell? I have no idea. Maybe it’s because as I watch my kid play and talk to his toys in the water, I’m thankful to be sitting here watching him.

Junior is dead. His dad is dead. I couldn’t give a shit. They’re right where they both belong. All I received was a nod from John when he and Salvatore finally made it to the hospital sometime around the crack of dawn, and I knew it was all taken care of. For him to come out of retirement for me shows me the type of man he is when it comes to his family. We all may live the worst kind of sins. I’m a thief and he, well hell, I don’t even want my mind wandering to the shit I’m sure he has done. Not when I have the best of both worlds right here.

I do at times wonder what Alexis is up to these days. I told her the day after all this went down I would do my best to forgive her, but I will never forget. She took it to the extreme, thought that was an open invitation, that we could have a relationship. It’s never going to happen. Two days after her trying, she left. I haven’t heard from her since. I don’t plan on ever hearing from her again. I have everything I need right here. She may have helped save my family’s life that night by directing them all to where my land was. I’ve thanked her. I can’t give her more than that. She fucked me over when I needed her the most. When I couldn’t take care of myself. So no, she’s not welcome in our lives.

Deidre had many more questions for her, too, after she finally came to and grasped onto the reality we were going to have another baby. I tamped that shit down. Told her it was over, that we were not looking back. EVER.

But I had to answer a few of them. She wouldn’t let up. I did and then covered her mouth before she could ask any more and kissed her like my life depended on it. And it did. She’s my life.

Again. I love it.

Stefano came out of recovery shortly after we left the Emergency Room. Thank god he’s fine. The first thing he said when we walked into his room was, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Deidre smiled. And I stood there like, “What the fuck?” This guy was shot. Had surgery, and the first thing he says when he sees his daughter is what’s wrong? If I didn’t know before that moment that I wanted to be the best dad I could be to my kids, I knew it then. Life may throw you as many lemons as they want, how you deal with it is up to you. Even when you’re down and out, sick or on your deathbed, your kids always come first. I knew it all along, but watching Deidre break down and cry and her dad take her in his good arm made me realize I was damn lucky to have her. She was taught how to love by a good man, a man who still has some aches and pains in his shoulder, but is back to kicking ass in the courtroom. Back to being a grandfather and thrilled another one will be here soon.

And Anna and Grace. Shit. Those two women are family. Grace has been more like a mother to me than mine ever was. She came out unscathed, too. Mentally that is. Deidre was worried sick about her. Hell, we all were, thinking she might fall victim to a breakdown like Deirde did. She didn’t. Besides a bruised larynx. The woman is a goddamn saint, along with her daughter. My sister Anna.

Anna struggled at first. Her body was severely broken and battered. Two broken ribs. A broken nose. Bruises everywhere. That woman is tough, courageous, and I owe her more than I can ever repay her for. She’s hurting still, and there isn’t fuck all I can do to help her.