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“The wall of the uterus looks okay.”

“Just okay?” Danny asks.

“Okay is better than poor,” Doc says, hitting a few buttons. “It’s not plump or juicy, but it’s okay. There doesn’t appear to be any paper in the machine so I can’t print a photograph.”

Danny releases my hand and rounds the bed to the other side, pulling out his phone. He aims it at the screen and captures a picture. The first photograph of our baby. And he stares down at it for an age, his eyes taking in every tiny piece. Emotion creeps up on me, my eyes clouding.

“I’ll give you some privacy.” Doc wipes the probe and slips it into the holder on the machine before claiming his medical bag. Then he leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. The sound seems to knock Danny from his paralyzed state, and he looks up at me, staring for what feels like years, the hollows of his cheeks pulsing.

“I’m going to be a daddy, Rose.”

Everything expands—my chest from my exhale, the welling of my eyes, the lump in my throat. I can’t speak, can’t find my voice or the words, so I shake my head and close my eyes, allowing the tears to roll down my cheeks.

His body is blanketing mine in a second, every hard, hot inch of him coating me, his face nestled deep in my neck. My sobs are quiet but so fucking loud, as I cling to him, holding him to me, beating myself up over and over, apologizing non-stop in my head.

On a long, heavy sigh, he eventually shifts, settling next to me. He wipes my eyes. Traces the contours of my face. Then he settles his hand on my tummy. “Feel that?” he whispers, never taking his eyes from mine. “That’s everything you’ve ever wanted but never dared imagine could be. That’s everything good about you mixed with what goodness there is in me.” He strokes across my stomach, and I find his hand, holding it to me. “Don’t be careless with your body, don’t be careless with our baby, and don’t be careless with my emotions.” He dips and kisses the edge of my mouth. “I won’t hold back, Rose. With the exception of my wife and her boy, there is nothing in this world that I’ll guard more violently. Nothing I’ll kill harder for. Nothing that could turn me psycho quicker than the risk of it being hurt. You’re carrying my flesh and blood. You’re bringing more hope into my world. I don’t want to hate, baby. I want to love and be loved. Treasure and be treasured. I want life, I want you, I want Daniel, and I want our baby.”

That’s it. Any attempts to keep my emotions in check are doomed, and a barrage of tears fall as I reach for his shoulders and pull him onto me.

“I’ve been offered a way out,” he murmurs quietly, almost unsure.

What? A way out. No more death and blood? We can go back to St. Lucia and be peaceful and happy again? I can be pregnant and not stressed. Have a labor without fear. “Then you must take it,” I say resolutely.

I feel him nod against me, but it feels reluctant.

I don’t question it. Whatever it takes, he must do it. I won’t be interfering in business anymore. I won’t be adding to his stress. I want to be out of Miami, and that’ll happen quicker if I step back and let Danny deal with it.

You’re bringing more hope into my world. I don’t want to hate, baby. I want to love and be loved. Treasure and be treasured. I want life, I want you, I want Daniel, and I want our baby.

Because when I give this to Danny, he wins. We win. There is nothing that would stop me from making this easier for him now. Nothing.

19

JAMES

* * *

The mood in the camp is low. Everyone is tense, the women are out of control, and it’s the eve of Danny and Rose’s wedding. I’d tell Danny to cancel if I knew his livelihood didn’t depend on it. And now Rose is pregnant. It’s the worst timing, not only personally for Beau and me, but for business. Keeping Black to heel is a big enough task without the delicate condition of his wife. Now? Everything is suddenly amplified.

I finish the last mouthful of my drink, my eyes set on the club down below, where Beau is with Esther and Zinnea, her mood subdued, not only after the swift evacuation of Rose by Danny. Like I said, it’s the worst time for Rose and Danny to be pregnant.

“Want another?” Otto asks.

I look over my shoulder and find him on the couch, hunched over his laptop. Goldie makes to get up before I’ve answered, ready to top me up. “I’m good,” I say, making her falter, half up, half down. “I have some shit to deal with.” I cast my eyes back down to the club. The silence between Beau and me is screaming. The atmosphere tense. Danny and Rose’s recent news is only adding to it. Except she doesn’t know I know, and it fucking pains me to think she’s suffering this alone. “Anything on the IP address from the café?” I ask.

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