Guardian Cougar (Finding Fatherhood Book 2) (7 page)

He frowned, bending his head closer even as he dialed the phone. “What?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I wasn’t trying to get rid of it this way.”

He ran his hand gently across her brow. “I know that, Hannah.” Then his voice changed, and he’d clearly gotten someone on the phone. She tried to listen to the conversation, but consciousness proved elusive and slipped away easily.

***

The EMT had directed Jackson to a tight corner of the ambulance, and he was wedged there now as he watched them work on Hannah while the driver whisked them to the hospital. She was pale from blood loss, the wound on her forehead bleeding copiously, but the real concern was evident in her abdomen.

Blood soaked the front of her pants, and he was certain Killian wouldn’t make it. His heart skipped a beat when he heard one paramedic tell the other he had a heartbeat, though it wasn’t as strong and steady as he’d like. He leaned forward, catching that man’s eyes. “Is the baby going to make it?”

The EMT was busy, but he didn’t ignore the question. “It’s possible. How far along is she?”

“Thirty-two weeks.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll tell you thirty-two-weekers have a much better chance than babies born at twenty-four weeks. At least he’s not a micro-preemie.”

It was hardly a ringing reassurance, but Jackson clung to it. He needed the baby to be all right. He needed Hannah to be all right too. Dread filled him as he contemplated the prospect that Hannah wouldn’t be all right with Killian.

He wasn’t sure how he would handle that, if the choice became taking care of a helpless infant or turning his back on the woman he wanted to claim as his mate. He could hardly blame her for how she felt, but he hoped it was simply an emotional reaction to the way her memory had returned, and that when she was calm again, she could evaluate how she felt and see Killian as his own person rather than an extension of Theo Cromwell.

Just thinking the man’s name sent a spiral of rage through him, and his cat hissed furiously. He wanted to do the same, but it would have attracted too much attention from the paramedics. If he lost control, he might shift and go hunting for Cromwell. That was a good idea, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, he’d let his friends find the fucker, and then he would deal with him. Cromwell was done harassing Hannah. Jackson would keep her safe.

They arrived at the hospital quickly, and it was a blur of activity after that. When one of the nurses asked if he was the father, he answered yes resoundingly. Jackson was certain if he told them no, they wouldn’t have allowed him to go back with Hannah to an exam room and certainly wouldn’t have kept him apprised of her condition when they decided an emergency C-section was warranted due to tearing of the placenta.

He paced frantically in the lobby waiting room, joined by Brandon and his friend Lucas a while later. He told them what he knew and was confident they would begin tracking Cromwell right away. It was reassuring to have them there, especially Lucas, who had been through something similar with the birth of his daughter. Angel was adopted, and Lucas had been at the mother’s side when she died from a gunshot wound.

He refused to entertain the idea that something like that could happen to Hannah. She wasn’t going to die, and neither was Killian. They were his family, and both would be just fine. He and Hannah would work through whatever negative reaction she had to the baby, and he’d ensure she had the help she needed to get better from being Theo’s captive. He had to cling to an optimistic vision of the future, or he’d dissolve into a sobbing heap on the floor.

After what seemed like hours spent torturing himself with what-ifs related to losing her or the baby despite his attempts to be optimistic, a doctor finally entered the waiting room attached to the Labor & Delivery department. He looked tired, but he wasn’t overtly serious or solemn, which Jackson took as a good sign as he approached the doctor. He didn’t wait for the other man to speak. “Were you the one taking care of Hannah and Killian?”

The doctor nodded. “Hannah had some serious hemorrhaging, but she’s stable now. I think she’ll be fine and make a full recovery.”

Relief swept through him, but he tempered it with caution when he noticed the doctor hadn’t mentioned the baby. “And Killian?”

The doctor hesitated. “He’s underweight, even for thirty-two weeks. Did she have proper prenatal care?”

Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know, but I doubt it. She was held captive for her entire pregnancy until recently.”

The doctor looked troubled. “He’s a bit more fragile than most babies at his age, and even the healthiest thirty-two-week-old baby is bound to have some struggles ahead. He’s in the NICU, and you’re welcome to see him as soon as we’re done talking. Right now, he’s pretty stable, but this could be the honeymoon period. Your neonatologist can tell you more, but premature babies tend to go downhill after the first few hours. You should prepare yourself.”

A sinking sensation filled Jackson’s stomach, and he found himself stumbling backward into a chair. Imagining the possibility and hearing it confirmed by a professional were two different things. The optimism seemed to leach from him, though he knew he had to cling to it to keep functioning and to get Hannah and Killian through this. He looked up at the doctor, who stood over him with a sympathetic expression. “Have you told Hannah that?”

The doctor hesitated for a moment, seeming indecisive. Finally, with a sigh, he said, “She didn’t ask anything about the baby, and she didn’t want see or hold him. She stated that before I could tell her it wasn’t a possibility just then. I didn’t have a chance to tell her anything about his state of health, but I don’t think she would have wanted to hear it anyway. Perhaps she’s simply recovering from a concussion and the trauma she’s been through. Sometimes, the maternal bond is slow to form, and that’s perfectly natural.”

Jackson nodded, whispering a word of parting and thanks for the doctor, though his thoughts were consumed by what he’d heard. He understood Hannah’s pain and anger, but he couldn’t fathom how she could disconnect herself from her baby. Just yesterday, they’d been looking forward to his birth in a few weeks, and she’d been genuinely excited about the prospect. Whatever she’d been through must be tainting everything surrounding the experience, including her own child.

He had to cling to the hope she could overcome it and ignore the parts that came from Theo and embrace the parts of herself in Killian. He was certain she could love her baby when she gave herself the chance.

If Killian survived.

***

It took twenty minutes to fully scrub to a state acceptable to the NICU staff. Wearing scrubs, gloves, and a mask, he was finally allowed to see his son for the first time. Looking down at Killian, who was almost the spitting image of Hannah, love swept over him, and he stroked a gloved finger down a thin thigh, feeling a bond form with him. Killian was definitely his son. It didn’t matter who had fathered him. His mate was the mother, and that was the most important thing.

Seeing the tiny baby hooked up to all the machines was nauseating, and he temporarily had a bout with nausea he wasn’t certain he would win. Finally, the creeping bile burned its way back down his esophagus without escaping, and he leaned a little closer, taking in the pink skin and fuzzy blonde hair. He wanted to hold him, but he was certain there was no way he could with all the machines attached.

It was a surprise when one of the nurses bustled in, giving him a sympathetic smile as she asked, “Would you like to give him Kangaroo Care?”

He blinked. “I don’t know. What is it?” He and Hannah hadn’t discussed any of the medical situations or decisions that went into having a child, both having naïvely assumed there would be weeks to decide such matters, and his slight hesitation in not knowing his full role in the matter had held him back.

Now he knew where he belonged. He was on Killian’s side, and he was his father, and since Hannah wasn’t able to make any decisions right now, he’d have to do it for her. He hoped she wouldn’t be upset with him.

Fortunately, Kangaroo Care turned out to be a minor decision with major benefit. It simply involved stripping to the waist, lying back in a chair, and allowing the nurse to position the baby against his bare chest before covering them both with a blanket. “What’s the purpose of this again?”

She smiled at him. “Newborns do better with skin-to-skin contact. You’re helping him recover faster, Daddy.”

Hearing the title on her lips made him shiver with pleasure, and he brushed his lips against Killian’s forehead, awed by the way the baby sank against him. He was filled with love, and contentment washed over him, though there was certainly something missing.

Not something, but someone. He wanted Hannah to be there with him and Killian to complete their family. He felt her absence keenly as he held the baby while Killian snoozed softly, occasionally making little grunts or snores. It was easy to be optimistic when he held the baby in his arms, and he was certain everything would work out all right.

Hannah was sore and stiff, and she felt vaguely empty as she put a hand on her stomach. It was still puffy and nowhere near flat, there was a definite difference now that Killian was no longer inside it. She searched for a shred of maternal love, but could find nothing. She couldn’t seem to generate emotions of any kind. All she felt was numb and kind of frozen, except when flashes of Theo’s face flickered behind her eyes. Then she just felt frightened.

She was alone, but sure Jackson would come see her soon. He must be with the baby right now, which made sense. Someone had to be there, and it couldn’t be her. She couldn’t summon the ability to even think about seeing the child, let alone being his support system. Every time she thought about him, she also thought about Cromwell, which generated a cold sweat on her brow as she trembled.

A nurse had just finished taking her vital signs when Jackson entered her room a few minutes later. He looked tired, but hopeful, as he took a seat beside her bed. When he took her hand, acting as though it was a habit that required no forethought, she let out a small breath she’d been holding. She admitted to herself she’d been afraid Jackson would reject her, or at least treat her differently, after the way she reacted when her memory had returned.

She couldn’t help how she felt about the child, but she was certain Jackson loved him already. He was bound to feel protective, and she felt a pang when she realized Killian might come between them. It wasn’t a strong enough pang to make her want to feel anything deeper, and she carefully disconnected her emotions from her thoughts, not wanting to get upset or frightened again if she dwelt on Theo Cromwell and what he had done to her.

“He’s doing well, considering his age and the fact he’s a little behind for his growth. The neonatologist thinks maybe you didn’t have any prenatal care.”

She nodded, not wanting to discuss it, but assuming it might be important to the child’s medical care. “I saw a doctor he brought to the yacht once in Italy, and he spoke no English. I spoke no Italian, so I’m not sure what he said, but it was a thorough exam, including a portable ultrasound. That was pretty much it. I was around twelve weeks then, I think.”

He looked angry, though it had to be on her and Killian’s behalf that she hadn’t received proper care. “You should definitely tell the neonatologist anything you can think of when you see him. He’s usually in the NICU most of the day and night, at least according to Killian’s nurse.”

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I’m afraid you’ll have to pass along that message.”

His expression softened with sympathy. “I know you’re sore today, but I’m sure you’ll be able to see him by tomorrow. There was another mother in the NICU who looked like she’d been through the wringer too, and she was in a wheelchair the whole time. As soon as they give you the clearance, I’ll be happy to push you up there.”

The ice around her heart seemed to grow thicker, and comforting numbness spread throughout her body as she eyed him impassively. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not waiting for clearance to go or leave my bed. I have no intention of seeing the child. I want nothing to do with him.”

Jackson flinched. “Give it a little time, and I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

She shook her head. “I’m certain I won’t. If you’ll excuse me, I could use some rest.” Her tone was cool, and she wanted to call back the words when she saw him wince, not really wanting to be alone. The last thing she’d wanted to do was send him away, but she had simply reacted without thinking. She couldn’t bring herself to rescind the request, and she couldn’t seem to move past the icy barrier filling her to ask him to stay.

He looked sad and a little lost as he got to his feet. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” she said in a stilted fashion. It was the most she could manage without breaking down in tears. She’d done enough crying, and she certainly didn’t want to start again. It was too visceral and left her emotions too raw. She was certain she couldn’t maintain the comforting ice she hid behind if she broke down.  She’d be forced to deal with everything she was feeling, both good and bad, and she wanted no part of that. Instead, she watched him leave through eyes that betrayed nothing, though she was silently crying out for him to see past her icy façade and stay despite her words. It was unfair to be angry at him for not detecting what she really wanted when she’d told him something else entirely, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when the door closed behind him a moment later.

As she stared at the closed door, hatred started to break through the icy shell around her heart, and if Theo Cromwell had been there, she was certain she could have murdered him with her own two hands. He had cost her the last thirteen months of her life, he had given her a child she didn’t want, one that would probably cause her fledgling relationship with Jackson to fail, and he’d stolen her ability to have a real relationship, to feel the things she needed to with the memories hanging over her. It seemed impossible to get through them, but it was even more impossible to cry.

***

Jackson was determined not to give up. Hannah was cold and distant, seeming not to care if he was there or not, which had to be a reaction to what she’d been through, and a wall she was hiding behind rather than how she truly felt. He continued to visit, staying as long as she allowed.

At first, he tried updating her about Killian’s progress, but she made it clear she had no interest. He might have believed that if it hadn’t been for the occasional flicker of longing in her gaze whenever he talked about the little boy.

And he couldn’t seem to go very long without talking about Killian. He was completely enamored with the little man, spending the time that he wasn’t with Hannah in the NICU, bonding with the baby. Kangaroo Care seemed to be helping, and so far, Killian was stable and doing better than expected. He’d had some challenges, but even the neonatologist was optimistic about his recovery.

He’d even started talking to Jackson about what kind of home care the baby would need when he was released in a few weeks. He took that as a good sign, and while he was worried about his son, he was more concerned about Hannah’s emotional state. He didn’t know how to reach her or help her, and when he’d asked Tina, her advice had consisted of being there for his mate. He was determined to do that, even if she seemed like she didn’t want him there. Unless she told him to never come back, he’d continue returning to her periodically throughout the day.

He was startled when he entered her hospital room that afternoon, finding her dressed and sitting on her bed. He’d brought her some nightgowns from home, but she was wearing actual outside clothing, and he was certain he hadn’t packed that for her. “You’re all dressed up.”

“With no place to go,” she quipped, though there was no amusement in her tone or her eyes. “They’re letting me out of here, and one of the nurses brought me this from the gift shop.” She pulled on the white sweatshirt she wore that bore the hospital’s logo, which coordinated with the white leggings.

He frowned. “You’ve only been in here three days. You had major surgery.”

She shrugged. “I’m healing nicely, and the obstetrician sees no reason to keep me.”

He thought it was a terrible idea to release her already, especially since Killian couldn’t go home with her. With a small sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll drive you then.” He braced himself for rejection. “Do you want to stop by the NICU and see Killian first?”

She surprised him by nodding. “Yes.”

His heart skipped a beat with anticipation, and he dared to hope it was a good sign. The best outcome would be she’d take one look at her baby and fall helplessly in love just as he had, though he cautioned himself not to expect too much too quickly.

Together, they walked from her hospital room to the elevator, taking it to the next floor up, which housed the best NICU in their state. It was a large facility, capable of caring for dozens of babies at the same time, but he was happy to see there were only a few patients besides Killian. It had been like that since the little boy’s birth, to his relief. He hated for any parent to have to go through what he had endured with Killian, and it was even worse for the babies.

He led her through the scrub procedure, and she performed the task stoically, though she occasionally winced as she bent forward over the sink. It was obvious she was still experiencing some pain, and once again he was reminded of how surprised he was the obstetrician had discharged her already.

After they had scrubbed up, they entered the NICU. He could feel her tension and smell it in her pheromones, sympathy spreading through him as he detected her fear, which smelled bitter, mingled with anxiety. He couldn’t read her thoughts, so he wasn’t certain what was causing her anxiety, but assumed it had to be the forthcoming meeting with her son. Until now, she’d expressed no interest in him, and she’d refused to pump to breastfeed or have anything else to do with Killian. He was amazed she was here now, but hopeful it meant something good for their future.

Killian had his own little room, though he wasn’t in one of the larger incubators used for the most serious cases. He was sleeping, his eyes shaded by a white visor.

She stopped near the incubator, but didn’t get as close as Jackson, and she made no attempt to touch the baby. “What are they doing to him?”

“UV lights. It’s for jaundice and helps remove bilirubin from the blood.”

She nodded. “He’s smaller than I expected.”

Jackson nodded. “He’s two pounds, eight ounces, but he’s fighting.”

She looked away from the incubator to give him a soft smile. “And you’re fighting for him. I’m glad he has you in his corner.”

Jackson took a deep breath, preparing himself to utter the words he needed to say, though he wasn’t certain she wanted to hear them. “He also needs his mother in his corner.”

She blanched, turning white. “I’m not his mother, Jackson. I was simply his surrogate.”

He frowned. “That can’t be right. He looks so much like you that he has to be your son.”

She shrugged. “Biologically, I suppose he is, but there’s no connection there. I needed to see him to confirm it, but I’m positive now.”

Dismay filled him, especially when he detected from the scent of her pheromones that she seemed determined and resolved. “What did you need to be certain about?”

“That I wanted nothing to do with him.” She took a deep breath. “I think you should adopt him, because you clearly love him. He needs someone who can do that, but it isn’t me. I look at him, and I feel nothing. All I can see is Theo’s face and remember the awful things he’s done to me. I don’t want any part of his child.”

Starting to feel frustrated, Jackson ran a gloved hand through his hair before cursing. He stripped it off and walked to the boxes mounted on the wall to take another one in his size. “You’re his mother too. He’s not just Cromwell’s child. If you look at Killian, I mean really look at him, you’ll see he’s almost you in replica. He has your hair and eyes, your bone structure, and perhaps even your tall, lean frame. It’s a little hard to tell just yet. There’s nothing of Cromwell in him.”

She turned back to the baby, examining him again. Her shoulders slumped a moment later. “He has Cromwell’s nose, and he has his fingers.”

Jackson was certain he wasn’t handling it right, but he was having a difficult time being understanding. “You can’t keep yourself from loving your child just because of his nose or his fingers.”

She stiffened, her back straightening she turned away from the incubator. “He’s not my child. Like I told you, I don’t feel anything for him, I don’t feel anything at all.”

He flinched. “Even for me?”

Her expression remained unchanged. “It’s easier to feel nothing for anyone than to try to let some in and keep some out.” Though poorly worded, her meaning was easy to intuit. She’d rather shut out the entire world than risk softening and feeling something she didn’t want to feel for the child she’d borne.

For a moment, it hovered on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was being selfish, but he held back the impulse. He had no idea everything she’d been through, and it wasn’t his place to tell her to stop thinking of herself and start thinking of Killian. He had no idea what kind of reaction he would have had in the same situation, and though it was harder than he’d imagined, the best thing he could do was to give her time to cope and perhaps find the missing connection she needed to be more than Killian’s biological mother; to become his mom.

“I’ll drive you back to the apartment.”

She nodded, not looking back at the baby as she left his room. She didn’t speak again until they were in the car almost thirty minutes later. Her gaze remained focused out the window. “I need to get a place of my own.”

He stiffened in shock. “What? Why would you do that?”

She still kept her gaze turned away, clearly determined not to look at him. “I can’t be there when you bring home your son. It just wouldn’t work. You’ll start to resent me for not being able to bond with him, and it’s not fair to him, because I can’t love him.”

Her words were cold, but he actually found some encouragement in them. It told him she was thinking of Killian even if she didn’t want to be. She was trying to do the right thing for him, though he thought removing herself from the picture entirely was completely the wrong thing.