Chapter 27: Chapter 27

REECE

I was jolted awake by a pillow being thrown at me. Wren’s voice was yelling, “Answer your phone, dude.”

I rolled over and squinted at the bedside clock. It was after two in the morning. I considered ignoring the call, but something told me it might be important.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Faye with Guardian Alarm System. Is this Reece Meyers?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Could I have your safe number to confirm?” Faye asked.

“216793.”

“Thank you. We received an alert that your alarm has been tripped. Is everything okay?”

I sat up immediately, my mind racing to Etta.

“No, I’m not home, but my pregnant girlfriend is. You need to send the police right now,” I yelled at Faye.

“Everything good?” Wren asked.

“No, that was my security system. They got a notification that the alarm was tripped.”

I dialed Etta’s number, but the call went straight to voicemail. I texted her, urging her to pick up. I called her four more times, but there was no answer.

“Shit. We need to go.” Wren and Patrick were already putting their shoes on.

“How fast can we get there?” Wren asked.

“Two hours if we drive like a maniac,” Patrick stated. “I’ll drive; you two keep trying to call Etta.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have left her,” I mumbled as I tried calling her again.

“Maybe she’s sleeping. When my sister was pregnant, she slept a lot, and it was hard to wake her up.” I knew Patrick was trying to be optimistic, but I just wanted him to drive.

“Yeah, maybe we are freaking out for nothing,” Wren agreed.

“I have a bad feeling about this, and I bet Tyler is behind this,” I stated.

I tried to call Beau, then Sterling, but neither of them picked up.

My phone rang again.

“Etta?”

“No, sir. This is Officer Davis. I’m calling because you’re listed as the owner of the security system and the emergency contact for Odette Hart.”

My lungs felt like they were being crushed under the weight of bricks. It was getting hard to breathe, and I knew what he was about to tell me wasn’t going to be good.

“Is she all right?” I managed to gasp out.

“She’s on her way to the hospital. She wasn’t conscious when we arrived. It appears she sustained multiple injuries, but you can get more details from the doctor when they treat her at the hospital.”

“Which hospital?” I snapped at the officer, not meaning to.

“Brookfield. We also have the suspect in custody who is also en route to the hospital.”

“Can you tell me who it is?” I asked.

“A man named Tyler Johnson.”

“I want to press charges. I don’t care what you charge him with. If it’s as simple as trespassing, charge him. I don’t want to wait to have him arrested,” I demanded.

“I’ll make a note of that, sir. He’ll be in police custody at the hospital while he gets treated for his injuries.”

I hung up with the officer and turned to Wren.

“She’s at Brookfield. He got his fucking hands on her. She wasn’t conscious when they got there,” I yelled, hitting the dashboard of the car.

***

Wren and I jumped out of the car while Patrick went to park. We ran to the service desk.

“Odette Hart. She was brought in by ambulance. I’m her emergency contact.”

“And I’m her brother,” Wren stated, trying to catch his breath.

“She is currently in surgery. I’ll have a doctor come out and talk to you when he gets a chance,” the attendant at the desk said.

“I called everyone. Beau, Sterling, and Winston will be here shortly, and Theo is catching the next flight home. How did this happen?” Wren asked.

“I left her; I didn’t protect her like I promised I would.” I let out a sob. Throughout the years we’d known each other, Wren had only seen me cry at funerals.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself,” he tried to comfort me, but it wasn’t helping.

We sat around for about an hour before the doctor came out.

“Hart Family!” the doctor yelled.

“That’s us.” Winston jumped up.

“I’m Doctor Williams. Who is the next of kin?”

“I am, but we are all her brothers, and he’s her boyfriend,” Sterling stated.

“She’s going to be all right. She should make a full recovery, but we had to deliver the baby. The baby showed signs of distress, and we couldn’t get her heartbeat under control, so we performed an emergency C-section.

“Right now, the baby is having trouble breathing, so she’s in the NICU on oxygen. She was born early, and there could be some complications from that. We will have to take it a day at a time. Ms. Hart received twelve stitches. She has a broken arm that she may need surgery on later and a bruised windpipe. It may be hard for her to talk for a while, but she will make a full recovery.”

“Can we see her?” I asked.

“You can, one at a time, and then she can have one person stay through the night with her. She is still out and will probably be out for a few hours. When visitation hours start at ten, then we ask to limit it to three at a time,” the doctor stated.

I turned toward her brothers. “You can tell me no, but I want to be the one to stay with her.”

“I think it should be you,” Winston said, squeezing my shoulder. “You guys start the rotation; I’m going to call Theo.”

“Thanks, Winston.”

***

I sat at the foot of her bed, rubbing her feet like I would if we were home. I hadn’t seen the baby; I wanted Etta to be the first to see her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you,” I whispered to her.

“What?” she whispered.

I got up and moved closer to her face.

“Don’t talk; it may hurt.”

She quickly placed her hand on her belly.

“They had to deliver her; she was in too much distress. Right now, she is in the NICU on oxygen, but because she was born so early, there may be other complications to arise,” I calmly explained to her.

I watched as the tears pooled in her eyes and slid down the side of her face.

I kissed her head and wiped the tears away.

“I’m sorry, Etta. I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

She shook her head.

“Where is he?” she whispered.

“In custody. It’s over.”

“Can I see her?” Etta asked about the baby.

“I’ll get a nurse.”

After the doctor checked her out, he agreed to let her see our baby. I knew she wasn’t biologically mine, but I planned to raise her as if she were.

“I haven’t named her or seen her. I wanted you to be the first to see her and touch her,” I stated.

I wheeled Etta to the NICU, stopping at a small incubator labeled Baby Hart.

She was beautiful, her hair the same shade as Etta’s.

“Do you have a name for her?” the nurse asked.

“Caroline Rose,” Etta strained out.

“It’s beautiful,” the nurse said, writing the name on the card. “You can put a hand in the incubator after washing.”

Etta stuck her hand in and offered Caroline her finger. Caroline was everything I thought she would be—and more. I knew everything was going to be okay. She was a fighter, just like her mother.