Executioner – Chapter Twenty-Eight

NOT EDITED

Chapter Twenty-Eight

6:23 PM; CLIFFBURN FERTILITY ASSOCIATES, PATIENT ROOM FOUR

After Cecilia had come back to the room after having her blood drawn, Craig had moved her to a private patient room rather than the exam room, the main difference between the two being she now had a bed rather than an examination table. She lay asleep on her side, her head on Bo’s shoulder, her hand on his chest.

“Eli?” Jensen questioned.

“Mmhmm?”

“When do you think we’ll know what’s wrong?”

“Hopefully another hour,” Bo said quietly, turning his head to look at Jensen. “But I don’t know. Doctor Hill said he put a rush on it.” Jensen nodded, dropping his head to rest in his hands. “It’s going to be okay, Jens,” Bo said softly, reaching out to comb his fingers through the younger man’s dark hair.

“What if she’s hurt?” Jensen asked, lifting his head. “If something’s wrong with her, that’s on us.”

“I’ll assemble the best team of doctors in the world for her if I have to. I did with Alice, and I’ll do it again.”

One corner of Jensen’s mouth lifted. “Okay,” he whispered. He sniffled, scratching his cheek. “She and David are dating. Do we… do we call him?”

Bo shook his head. “That’s not our place, love,” he murmured. He laid a hand on Jensen’s cheek, offering a smile. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of that.”

“That’s my job,” Jensen whispered.

Bo chuckled. “I can be the strong every now and then. You were strong for me when I was at my weakest. I can be the same for you when you need to take a breather.” He patted the younger man’s freckled cheek. “That’s why we got married, you know.”

“Thanks, babe.”

Bo nodded, squeezing Jensen’s arm before pulling his hand back toward himself. “Do you want to check on the girls? Or do you want me to?”

“I’ll do it. Be back in a sec,” Jensen said quietly, pushing himself to his feet. Bo sat in silence until Jensen came back into the room and sat down again, scooting his chair closer to the bed. “Sullivan’s reading to them.”

“Really?” Bo asked, turning to look at the younger man.

Jensen nodded. “He’s doing different voices for all the character’s, too.” He smiled faintly. “Apparently, he wasn’t kidding when he said he had two nephews. He must read to them all the time.”

“The more you know, huh?”

“I didn’t think he could be a good person.”

“Everyone has some kind of good in them, even if it’s only to family or… or only to themselves,” Bo said.

“Is that optimism I sense?”

Bo snorted. “No, love, that’s factual information you sense.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Of course. I should’ve known.”

“You should have,” Bo agreed. He sighed softly. “Jamal and my parents should get here a little before or right around eleven. I plan on having them stay at the house with the girls so we can stay here tonight.”

“What do you want to do about work tomorrow?”

“I haven’t decided,” Bo said quietly. “We’ll figure it out in the morning. I don’t think I can handle many more thought processes right now.”

“Understandable.” Jensen laid a hand on Bo’s thigh before leaning back in his chair. “If something happens, I don’t think we can try again. I don’t think I can go through this again.”

“I know.” Bo cleared his throat. “But, again, we don’t know what’s wrong yet. It could be nothing. Keep your positive thoughts larger than the negative ones. Okay?”

“I’ll do what I can, Eli.”

7:30 PM; CLIFFBURN FERTILITY ASSOCIATES, PATIENT ROOM FOUR

“It’s called a placental abruption. It can’t always be picked up on an ultrasound,” Craig said.

“What the hell is that?” Jensen asked.

“The placenta had detached from the uterine wall,” Craig said, lowering himself into his chair. “In your case, it’s a partial detachment. It’s minor, which is good.”

“You can’t, like, reattach it?”

Craig shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Which baby is it?” Bo asked.

“Baby B.”

Bo closed his eyes briefly, clasping his hands between his knees. “Do you think we’ll be risking premature birth?”

“It’s always a possibility, but we’re going to do all we can to keep both babies in the womb as long as possible.”

“Because if he’s born now, he’ll die. He’s smaller than A. There’s no debating that, so don’t try to bullshit me on it.”

Craig nodded. “Survival is low for him, yes,” he agreed.

“What’s your plan?” Bo questioned.

“We’ll keep Miss Delacroix here for close monitoring,” Craig said. “If the bleeding subsides and everything’s still okay, she can be discharged and go home for more bedrest.” He looked over at Cecilia. “We’ll be able to give you medication to help the babies’ lungs mature, just in case it comes to premature delivery. But, again, the hope is to prevent that.”

“You’re the best doctor in this field, correct?” Bo asked.

“Yes, Mister Austen.”

“That’s why I chose you.”

“Yes, Mister Austen,” Craig repeated.

“So prevent it.”

Craig stared at Bo over the rim of his glasses before nodding. “Of course, Mister Austen.”

11:01 PM; CLIFFBURN FERTILITY ASSOCIATES, WAITING ROOM

Renee pulled her son into a hug. “What happened?”

“Placental abruption of Baby B,” Bo said, squeezing his mother tightly.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “Is it bad?”

“Partial. She’s not having contractions, so we aren’t worrying about labor at this very moment,” he said. He took a step back, hugged Denzel instead. “They’re keeping her for monitoring and observation.”

“You gonna kill me if I pray for my grandchildren?” Denzel asked. Bo shook his head. “Good. I’ll say a few words to the man upstairs.”

“Thank you,” Jensen said from where he stood, hands shoved into his pockets. He grunted as Renee pulled him into a hug. With a soft sigh, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Just because I don’t believe in God doesn’t mean you can’t,” Bo finally said, stepping away from his father. “There’s nothing wrong with faith.”

“I know, kiddo.”

From behind Denzel, Jamal offered a smile, enveloping Bo in a hug as soon as the blonde walked up to him. “You okay?”

“Right now, yes.”

“What do you need me to do?” Jamal asked.

“I’d… like for you guys to watch over the girls tonight, back at the house. We’re going to stay here with Cecilia,” Bo said.

“We can do that.”

“Thank you,” Bo whispered. Jamal only nodded. “Can you…?” Bo cleared his throat, his arms tightening around Jamal. “Can you tell me everything’s going to be okay?” Jamal rested his chin on the top of Bo’s head. “Everything’s gonna be okay, kiddo,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure of it. Promise.”


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