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His lips tip up.
“You got here first. Disobeyed my orders and got yourself caught. You could have—”
“How did you know that?” I step forward, not able to remain at a distance now that I have my sights finally on Gabe.
“Doesn’t matter,” he breathes, meeting me as he takes a step toward me. “You want him?”
I don’t argue. I’ve waited long enough for this moment. My anxiety won’t be uncoiled until he’s safe in my arms. When I take him, it’s like I can finally fill my lungs once again.
“Where’s his mother? She was here. She set me up.”
“She isn’t his mother, but that bitch is currently in a patrol car being carted off to jail as we speak.”
“Drago’s been hurt. Diaz shot him.”
Before I can tell Eric to call for help, he sidesteps me.
The metal stairs clank at the force of his feet running down the stairs. I know I should be following him. I need to make sure D is okay and Diaz is cuffed. I don’t care that he’s injured. Cuffs will be around his wrists before he leaves here if I have to put them on him myself.
He has people everywhere. Once he’s carted off in an ambulance, he could disappear before he ever reaches the hospital.
No. I can’t allow that to happen. I have to see him there and stay until he’s taken and booked. But I don’t want to hand this little guy over to anyone. I don’t want him to leave my arms.
His eyes flutter, as if he’s trying so hard not to fall asleep. My mind runs away for the millionth time, wondering how he’s been cared for in the last few weeks. He doesn’t look malnourished, but looks can always be deceiving.
Connie.
I’ll call my partner. Even if she isn’t technically still my partner, that’s the place she’ll always have in my mind. She can make sure he’s checked over at the hospital while I’m ensuring Diaz stays under arrest.
I take the stairs slower than Eric, not wanting to jar Gabriel.
Once I walk out the bay door, I see Drago limping toward me with Eric beside him. I quicken my pace until I reach D.
Drago eyes Gabriel before taking his son into his arms, bringing him to his chest and fusing the little guy to his own body. Looking down, he watches his son as I stand frozen in place watching D’s eyes. Emotions, too many to decipher between, pass through him.
He does believe Gabriel is his.
I see it clearly, but then I see so much more than just the recognition in Drago’s eyes.
“D,” I whisper. “He’s safe now.”
Drago’s dark gaze snaps to mine. It’s then my chest is pierced yet again with a shattering ache. Liquid pools in D’s lower lids, threatening to spill over.
I’m about to step forward to embrace him, to comfort him, to love him—but that attempt is killed before I’m able to make a move. Gabriel is thrust back into my arms so abruptly that I stagger backward with him.
“Take him.” There is a strain in Drago’s voice, and I know from looking at him that he’s barely holding himself together.
But why?
His son is safe now.
Gabe whimpers from the sudden movements, so I quickly tighten my hold on him, not taking my eyes off his dad as he retreats away from us.
“D,” I call out, not understanding why he’s slowly stepping away.
His eyes are on Gabe and with each step, worry starts to seep into my skin, taking root in my bones. When his head starts to turn from side to side even slower than his steps, alarms start to sound off in my head.
“Drago,” I say a little louder, hoping to get his attention. It doesn’t work. “Drago,” I bark, making the baby wail. Anger starts to present itself in my chest.
