the circumstances, the nurses were hesitant to release any information. They exchanged uncertain glances. This did nothing to soothe Talib’s temper, already teetering close to the edge of explosion. Silently he warred with himself, gripping the edge of the counter as he bowed his head. Security was but a button’s push away as he was sure the nurses were well aware. Thankfully, the world wasn’t completely against him.
“Talib? Talib, is that you?”
He heard his name and saw Dr. Lettia Breene approaching the station.
The lovely full-figured obstetrician wore a concerned frown as she could all but feel the tension in the air. “I hope you’re here for a checkup.” She took note of his haggard appearance, then asked the nurses, “What’s going on?”
Talib responded first. “Misha’s here, Lett.”
“Misha?” Lettia turned back toward the nurses.
RN Connie Wesley checked a book on the desk and nodded. “Car accident, Dr. B.” She looked toward her colleagues who were all nodding.
“It was about four hours ago,” Nurse Adrian White added and passed Lett the report on Misha. “The EMTs said she had to be pried out of the car.”
“Jesus,” Talib moaned.
Lett set aside the chart and put a hand on his shoulder. “What room is she in?”
Minutes later, Talib was being directed toward the unit where Misha was being treated. The six-foot-plus former linebacker had to lean on the doctor when he saw Misha bandaged and resting in the dim room.
“God,” Lettia whispered. She was just as devastated as Talib was, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.
“It’s my fault.” Emotion had rendered Talib’s voice raw.
“Shh…” Lettia rubbed his back. “Honey, blaming yourself won’t do either of you any good.”
“It’s my fault.”
“Talib—”
“Don’t tell her I was here.”
“But, Talib, she’ll—”
“Swear it, Lett.”
“Honey, why?”
“Just swear it, Lettia.”
She nodded, even as she searched his face in wonder. “All right,” she said when he took her shoulders.
Satisfied, he turned back to Misha. She was already uncommonly small and the bed she occupied looked gargantuan with her in the middle of it.
“Will she…be okay?” His voice wavered while he brushed his thumb across the bruises darkening her jaw and cheek.
Lettia nodded, easing a hand into the pocket of her white coat. “From what I read in the chart, everything points toward her making a full recovery. It’s gonna take time though. She banged herself up pretty badly.”
Talib leaned in close to study Misha intently, as if he were trying to memorize her features—battered as they were.
“Remember, you swore not to tell her I came here.”
“Tal—”
“Lettia.”
“I won’t.”
Gingerly, Talib kissed an uninjured area on Misha’s forehead. “I love you,” he whispered against her skin, and then left the room.
“Tal…Tal? Talib…” Misha was stirring mere seconds after the door closed.
Lettia glanced over her shoulder, debating on whether to go after Talib. Instinct told her that a line had been crossed between the couple and it was best to let things be.
“Talib…I…I’m sorry.”
“Honey, shhh…” Lettia spoke near her friend’s ear.
Misha rolled her head slowly across the pillow. She frowned, trying to open eyes that were swollen shut.
Lettia pressed a hand to her hair. “Shh…honey you need to rest. Shh…”
“He has to know I’m sorry. He has to know it….” Her words could barely be heard as they tripped past her bruised lips.
Lettia kissed the spot Talib had earlier. “He does, hon. He does.”
Chapter 1
Present Day
Asher and Riley Hudson’s Bedford home swelled with talk and laughter. Guests filled practically every room of the lovely two-story Southwestern styled house. People were still arriving, their vehicles circling around as drivers searched for parking space on the stadium-size lawn.
The guest list may have been a tad lengthy for a baptism, but no one wanted to miss out on the chance to meet the newest and cutest Hudson. The fact that a baby was the guest of honor put all parents in attendance at ease. No one had to search for a sitter since all kids were welcome. The younger children had a wonderful time breaking in Ahmad Hudson’s elaborate playground set while the older ones enjoyed several rounds of basketball on the two courts the property boasted. For adults and kids alike, the gathering was a sheer delight.
Happiness loomed over everyone. Everyone, that is, except the guest of honor’s godparents. Thankfully, a fair share of business-talk intermingled with the afternoon’s events, occupying Talib and Misha just enough to keep their thoughts and eyes off one another.
Such was the case when Misha stood near the bar cooing with her godson/nephew and nuzzling her nose to his cheek.
“Already got the man buyin’ you drinks, huh?”
Misha laughed at Tony Geraldson’s remark and gave the baby a tiny bounce. “A woman’s gotta train a man early,” she told the heavy-set bartender.
Tony laughed when the five-month-old in Misha’s arms cooed as though he were voicing his opinion on the matter. Misha’s dark eyes glinted merrily but she tilted her head when it appeared the baby was looking elsewhere. Turning, she discovered what had sparked the child’s cheerful outburst.
“Talib.” Her glee vanished.
“Misha.” His voice was soft. “You need help here?” He was already leaning close to tickle his nephew’s cheek.
Misha bristled when the scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. “We’re good.” Her voice was tight yet her expression softened when she looked back down at the baby.
It was easy for Talib to take note of the vinegar in her voice and he smiled. Knowing he was playing with fire, he moved a tad closer. “Shouldn’t you ease up a bit?” His dark gaze spanned the length of the bar.
“Counting my visits?” She rolled her eyes. “Could you hurry with that ginger ale, Tony?”
“Got
