“What took so damn long?” Abram grumbles.
“You’ll see.”
The truck is backed into the warehouse and the tops of the crates are lifted. “We hit the jackpot.”
“What is that?” my father asks.
“Bomb components. A lot of them.” My gut tells me this discovery probably just saved a lot of Fellowship members. I’m guessing we would have been the targets.
My father slaps my shoulder. “This is an excellent find, son. Good job.”
I look at my watch. It’s seven forty-five.
“My flight boards in an hour and a half.” I gesture toward my blood-soaked clothes. “I doubt I’ll be allowed on like this.”
“Hurry, son. Go be with your wife.”
* * *
Dammit to hell. I cannot believe this shit. I busted my ass to make my flight on time—which I did—and now I’m going to miss being with Bleu during the embryo transfer because of a fucking delay.
My driver is holding a sign bearing my name when I come off the escalator. “There’s five hundred pounds in it for you if you can get me to my destination in twenty minutes.”
The race is on. It’s impossible to make it on time but I’m hoping her admission and paperwork will take a while. I don’t have to be there for that part. All I really need is to arrive before Bleu’s taken back for the procedure.
I’m slung from one side of the car to the other as we make our way from Heathrow to the fertility clinic. I watch the time with a nervous lump in my stomach. It’s hopeless unless we make up time somewhere, which is unlikely in London traffic.
Time ticks away. Traffic is horrid. Eleven o’clock comes and goes. Eleven ten. Eleven twenty. Eleven thirty.
“Can you help me find my wife? Bleu Breckenridge. She has an appointment for an embryo transfer.”
“Mrs. Breckenridge is in room six. Down the hall on the right.”
I knock and Bleu calls out for me to come in.
She’s lying on an exam table, her head slightly elevated, with my mum sitting at her side. “I’ll step out so you can talk.”
I go to Bleu and take her hand. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My flight was delayed.”
“Isobel told me.”
Her eyes are swollen and red, her mascara smeared. “You missed it. You swore you’d be with me but you weren’t.”
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “I’m so damn sorry. It was a string of unfortunate events keeping me from you. I tried my damnedest to get here. I swear.”
She stares at the ceiling without a reply.
“Please forgive me.”
She closes her eyes and tears roll from the corners of her lids into her hairline.
“Are you in pain?”
“No.”
That’s all the reply I get.
“I’m such an arse. I should’ve moved heaven and earth to be with you. I know I let you down but please try not to be upset.”
I rub my free hand atop her lower abdomen. “It can’t be good for you or what’s happening inside you right now.”
“I’m angry with you but I’m going to put it aside for now.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance to be pissed off at me—just not right now while our babies are trying to do their thing.”
That brings a smile to her face.
“Dr. Paschall thinks everything went well?” I wouldn’t have to ask if I’d been here.
“Yes.”
“What’s next?”
“They want me to lie still until they come back to release me. I’m to be on modified bed rest for the next twenty-four hours and then take it easy for a couple of days. No travels for a few days. No sex—not that you’d be getting any anyway. I’m too pissed off to even consider it.”
She enjoyed telling me that. I suppose I can’t blame her.
“I’m going to make this up to you.” I don’t know how but I won’t stop until I find a way.
Chapter Seventeen
Bleu Breckenridge
I’ve spent the last two days in our London hotel’s presidential suite. We’ve spent a lot of time here in the recent weeks. It sort of feels like a second home.
My husband has pampered me and seen to my every whim. But he owes me that much after being MIA for the transfer. I’m not over that—and won’t be any time soon—but at least the urge to choke him has passed.
I’m lying on the sofa reading while Sin sits in the chair next to me flipping through a file. He’s reviewing a case going to court in a few days. I should let him work but I don’t want to. I feel like talking.
I place my e-reader on my stomach. “What happened Thursday night?”
He looks over the file at me. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with it. You don’t need the stress.”
“Not knowing stresses me more than knowing. You should probably understand that about me now rather than later.”
He sucks in a breath. “One of our trucks was raided by The Order. They took a large supply of firearms intended for a new alliance in Ireland—one that’s instrumental in a bigger goal in Dublin. It was imperative to get the arms back. We didn’t need that kind of ammunition to be in the hands of The Order but we also needed the supply to maintain our relationship with an organization called The Guild.”
I can’t recall anything about The Guild but I suppose I wouldn’t if they’re a new alliance.
“Did it go well?”
“We got the arms back and discovered a huge supply of bomb-making materials in the process. I believe they were going to target us with explosives.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“I lost three good men. One of them died in my arms while speaking to his pregnant wife on the phone.”
“Oh God. That must’ve been brutal.”
He doesn’t reply.
My husband isn’t an emotional man. He can’t afford to be but I’m guessing even that might have touched him. Babies have a way of doing that to people.
“You’ll see that this man’s wife and child are taken care of?”
“Of course. He died under my command so I’ll see to them personally.”
He returns to studying his file. I don’t think he wants to discuss what happened, but I do. I have things to say. “I forgive you for not being here.”
He lowers the folder again. “You’ll never know how sick I am that I missed it.”
He’s going to miss more than this one procedure before it’s over. Of that, I’m certain. “Always do your best. That’s all I ask of you.”