Shane

“What are ye doing here?” I frown down at the small redhead in front of me. My agent hired the woman a few months ago to clean my Dublin apartment.

“I…I…” Her eyes dart around frantically.

“What are ye doing here?” I glance down at the baby Emily’s holding, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. “Whose baby is that?”

“He’s…he’s ours.” Her eyes brighten, and she smiles. She fucking smiles.

“Ours?” I tilt my chin down, my breathing coming out in small panicked breaths, because I have no idea how insane this chick is, or what she’s willing to do in order to fulfill whatever fucked-up fantasy is going on in her head.

“We can finally be a family,” she says, her blue eyes looking almost fevered.

Jeezus. The woman must be on something. Because the few times I’d seen her over the past months, she’d seemed perfectly sane. And yet, something tugs at my memory. A warning. Like I’m missing a part of the puzzle.

The woman’s young. Early twenties. She’d been spunky and full of energy the first time I’d met her. Sure, she’d seemed more than a little star-struck, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. And she’d always done a good job keeping the place clean when I wasn’t around, which was most of the time.

“You had a baby?” I ask cautiously.

She blinks at me. “I wrote you letters. Did you get them?”

Letters?

Shit.

They were from her.

I glance down at her petite form, knowing there’s no way in hell she’d been pregnant recently, let alone just had a baby. Taking a step towards her, I look at the infant in her arms. All newborns look the same to me, with their wrinkled, red faces, but I’m starting to get the aching feeling the child doesn’t belong to her.

A small movement behind the woman catches my gaze, and I see Makena frowning at me halfway down the hall.

Fuck.

What the hell is going on?

There’s something in the way she looks at me, with pure panic in her eyes, and I know I’m right about the kid. If it’s not hers, then I have a really bad feeling the baby is Cillian and Delaney’s little boy.

I see Makena move toward us, and I shake my head, warning her not to come closer.

“Do you remember that night?” Emily says, tears in her eyes. “It was perfect. I knew you felt it, too.”

I have no clue what she’s talking about, until a flash of a memory strikes me.

She’d been blonde. Her and her friend. I’d drank too much that night, which had probably been part of the reason the fucking condom broke. She’d ran out of the hotel room before I could get her name.

Even now, I barely recognize her. She’s skinnier than she’d been then, and unlike that night, she wore no make-up, making her features seem drawn out and pale.

“I remember,” I say, seeing Makena frown in the background. “Ye changed yer hair.”

“I saw you with that redhead. Rose. I thought you’d like it.”

Jeezus, Mary and Joseph, how long had the woman been stalking me?

“In yer letters, ye said ye were pregnant. But that’s not yer baby, is it?”

“He is,” she says desperately, taking a step back. “He’s ours. I was pregnant. I was…”

“I believe ye.”

“I wanted this so much.” Her words sound frantic.

“Okay.” Slowly, I place the coffees and the ridiculous stuffed animal down beside me, then ease my way up, careful not to spook her. “Can I see him?”

“I…don’t…”

“Can I see my son?”

She bites her bottom lip and frowns, pulling Axel tighter against her chest. The baby lets out a tiny, pathetic little wail. “I don’t know.”

“He sounds like he’s hungry.” I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I just know I need to get the kid away from her.

“He should be ours,” she mutters incoherently. “We would have been happy.”

“Emily, let me see him.”

“You promise we can be a family? That we can go home?”

“Home?”

“Our apartment. I’ve been waiting for you. Every night, I slept in our bed. Waiting. But you never came home. And then…” Her eyes dart around and she shifts nervously from one foot to the other, glancing back at Makena. She points at her, clutching the baby in her other arm. “Then, I saw you with her.”

It takes me a second to register that the glint of metal in her hand is a gun.

Fuck.

“Emily, put the gun down. Whatever ye want, I’ll give it to ye.”

“You’re lying. You love her. I see it.” She points the gun at me, then back at Makena. “We’ll never be a real family until she’s gone.”

“She won’t be a problem.” I take another step toward her.

Where the hell is Security? I didn’t realize what a Code Pink was when I’d heard it. But they have to have the hospital shut down by now.

“She’s going to leave,” I say, the words directed at Makena. “Now.”

She gives a small shake of her head.

Dammit, Makena.

I take another step towards Emily, and she points the gun at me again. But, at least it’s off Makena.

“Ye don’t want to hurt me.” I take another step closer, and she moves back. “Or our baby.” I’ll play along with the fantasy.

“I just want our family.”

“I know. Just give me the gun, so no one gets hurt.”

My next step has her eyes widening, and if it’s possible, her expression becomes even more crazed. She turns the gun on the baby, placing it against the infant’s temple, making him wail louder.

“Shane,” Makena whimpers, tears running down her cheeks.

“I’ll do it.” Emily shifts back and forth, from foot to foot, then she points the gun back at Makena, and I watch in horror as her finger slides the trigger back. “I’ll kill you all.”

“Get the baby!” Makena shouts, right before the gun fires.

Time freezes. The blast of the gun is still ringing in my ears as I tackle the woman, careful to use my body as a shield for the infant, cradling his head against my chest as I peel the gun out of Emily’s hands.

Everything else happens in a blur. Security guards swarm us, and I hear Cillian’s voice shouting. Axel keeps wailing in my arms, his face bright red. The security guards have Emily face down on the floor, her arms behind her back. And there’s another swarm of people hovering around where Makena stood a moment ago.

Someone shouts for a stretcher.

Cillian races toward me, and I’ve never seen the man look so terrified. He reaches for his son, and I place him in his arms.

“He’s okay,” I say, more for my own reassurance. “He’s okay.”

As soon as the child is out of my arms, I’m rushing towards the mob of people, calling out for Makena.

She doesn’t answer.

And I feel all the blood rush from head when I see the dark puddle of blood one of the nurses steps over as she helps lift a body from the floor onto the waiting gurney.

I know it’s her, but a part of my brain denies it at the same time.

“Makena.” Her name comes out in a hoarse whisper as I push one of the nurses away, to catch a glimpse of her face.

She’s pale. Too damn pale. And when I stroke her cheek, she’s ice cold.

“You need to move, sir. We need to get her into surgery.”

I don’t want to let her go, but I know I have to. I bend over and kiss her forehead, and whisper harshly, “Don’t ye dare die on me, love. Ye promised me tomorrow. And I’m going to collect on it.”

“Sir,” the nurse barks, making me move away.

I stand there, alone, as she’s carted away. Cillian is taken somewhere with Axel to have the baby checked out. Emily, the woman responsible for it all, is gone. I didn’t even see them take her away.

Makena’s blood is still on the floor, but it isn’t long before someone comes and starts to clean it up. I can’t move, can’t breathe. I just keep seeing Makena’s face as she shouts for me to protect the baby.

Her eyes.

She’d known the woman would shoot. And she was willing to sacrifice herself.

I want to strangle her, and tie a gold fucking medal around her neck at the same time.

“Sir.” Someone is talking to me, but there’s a buzz inside my skull, and I keep replaying the scene over and over in my head.

Was there anything else I could have done?

Maybe if I’d tackled the woman sooner. But I’d been worried about harming the baby. I grip my hair and curse.

“They’re wanting yer statement, sir,” a man in uniform says.

“I need to know when she gets out of surgery.”

“Of course. Just come with us.”

I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like days as I repeat the events multiple times, to multiple people.

“I’ve already told ye twice. Her name’s Emily Hudson. She works for me. If ye want any more information, ye can talk to my manager. I gave ye his number.” I stand up quickly, making the flimsy plastic chair I sat in fly backwards. “But, I can’t be here right now.”

Not when Makena’s fighting for her life somewhere in the hospital. I know they said they would come find me when she was out of surgery, but I’m tired of waiting.

“Shane.” Owen’s deep voice stops me.

I turn, feeling the last shred of strength fall away when I see my best friend.

“What the hell happened? We’ve been outside for hours. The hospital’s been on lockdown-”

“Makena.” I breath her name in like it’s oxygen. For what feels like the hundredth time, I repeat everything I know.

The emotion I’ve been holding back comes out in a shuddering breath, and I sink down the wall, crouching with my head in my hands.

“It’s not yer fault.” Owen sits beside me, his arms resting on his knees. “Ye can’t blame yerself.”

“Who the hell am I supposed to blame?”

“The crazy bitch that shot her,” Aiden says as he approaches, anger lacing his words. “Cillian told me what happened.”

“The baby?” I ask, needing some good news.

“He’s fine. Delaney’s shaken up, but yer mom and Bree are with her.”

“Emer?”

“She stayed home with Cadence, but I told her what happened. Once she finds a sitter, she’ll be here.”

I nod, glad to have the support of my family around. “Do ye know if they called Makena’s family? They should know.” I push myself up, needing something, anything to do, than just sit here and wonder if I’ll get my tomorrow.