Remember Ramsey by Cynthia Eden

Chapter Twenty-Two

Observation notes: Jag tried to buy me off today. As if any amount of money would ever make me leave Ramsey. But then…Jag got physical. He pushed me. His face was horrified, as if he couldn’t believe he’d done such a thing.

He ran away.

I have to tell Ramsey. Jag doesn’t like me, and I’m scared of him. I’m afraid of what he might do.

But whatever he plans, it won’t work. I won’t leave Ramsey. No one will keep us apart.

***

Ramsey looked up from the laptop. He was in the hospital exam room. Darius had brought the laptop to him. He’d needed to see it. If he’d just read the fucking recovered files earlier…

“Stop it.” Jinx’s order. “Whatever the hell is spinning through your mind, just stop.”

Ramsey glanced over at him.

Jinx stared steadily back at him. “This isn’t on you.”

“He was my friend.” Or, Ramsey had thought Jag was his friend. “He was in my world. At my side for years.”

“You think you’re the only one who has ever trusted the wrong person? Hell, no. I can make you a whole list of the times I screwed up, if you want.”

“This screwup almost cost Whitney’s life,” he replied.

“She’s going to be all right.” The soft words came from Maisey as she sat at Odin’s side. The small waiting room was packed. War, Odin, Jinx…and all their ladies. Rose, War’s wife and a local star reporter, sat tensely, with her hand gripped with his. This was a major news story, but she hadn’t asked Ramsey even a single question. She’d just sat with them all. Been a warm, steady presence.

Odin had his arm around Maisey’s shoulders, and even though her words had been confident, Jinx could see the fear in her eyes.

Whitney has to be all right.

Ali Carter stood near Jinx. She would pace every few moments. Tension seemed to roll off her.

He felt the same damn tension. Like it was gonna rip him apart.

“Next time, I’m reading all the fucking files.” The words burst from Cyrus. Because, yeah, he was there, too. He’d arrived just as Whitney had been taken back. Ramsey didn’t even know how the guy had known they were at the hospital, but he’d just appeared. “I should have done that this time,” Cyrus continued grimly. “But, oh, no, I was trying to prove that I could contain my curiosity. That shit ends. I could have stopped him. If the info was in her files all along—”

“You both have to stop blaming yourselves!” Ali let out a long exhale. She and Cyrus were old friends, and her gaze cut to him. “You know who we blame? We blame Jag. He’s the one who did this. No one else gets to choke on the guilt. He did it, and he’s been stopped.”

Yes, he had been stopped. Permanently.

That prick Edward had been taken to the hospital, too. He was being checked out in the back, but Ramsey wasn’t particularly concerned about him. Or concerned at all. His only focus was Whitney.

Detective Melissa Wright had been there, too, but she’d left to go supervise the scene at his bar. Not that there should be much to supervise. I hope it burned to the ground.

The door to the waiting room opened. Ramsey jumped up, but it was just Darius. Darius’s face appeared haggard, and as he crossed to Ramsey, Darius raked a hand over his jaw. “The cops are already tossing Jag’s place.” His stare dipped to Rose, then back to Ramsey. “I received a tip,” he explained carefully, “that they found more evidence to tie him to Axel.” His nostrils flared. “Can’t believe he did this shit,” he mumbled. “He was like family…”

And Ramsey had still killed him. If he had it to do all over again, he would…only he’d make the death even more painful. When Ramsey thought of Jag, he felt rage surge within him. He wanted to take Whitney.

Because of the stupid fucking empire they’d built? Seriously? Ramsey would have given him control of the damn thing. Hell, he’d planned to pass along as much power as he could to both Jag and Darius. Ramsey had turned as many businesses legit as he could. And as for the rest…

“I don’t want it,” Darius rasped.

Ramsey’s jaw locked. “We’ll talk later.”

“No, we’re talking now.”

Uh, yeah, with a roomful of avid people watching and listening?

“You need to know that I didn’t stay at your side for power. Fuck that shit. I stayed because you were the one person who was always there for me. You want out? Then I’m out, too. And I would never do anything to hurt the woman you love. Know that shit. Don’t go lumping me in with Jag because that’s not me. That’s not what I—”

“Stop,” Ramsey ordered flatly.

Darius’s jaw jerked up.

“I know,” Ramsey told him. Darius didn’t have to say or do anything else.

Darius nodded quickly. “Good. Good.” He looked away. “Who the hell do I have to scare in order to get some news on Whitney? Your ass has been sitting in here far too long.”

Excellent question. Ramsey was done waiting. The last bit of his patience was gone. He needed Whitney.

As if on cue, the door opened again. A young nurse with dark hair poked her head inside, “Mr. Hyde?”

His heart stopped. Darius shoved him toward the nurse.

“Come with me, please,” she directed.

What the fuck? Why couldn’t she tell him what was happening right then and there? “Whitney’s okay?”

A quick smile from her. Was that smile supposed to be reassuring? “The doctor wants to talk with you.”

As they left the waiting room, he nearly slammed right into Imari. She’d been lurking in the hallway.

“Um, Ramsey, I…”

He jerked his thumb toward the door. “Cyrus is in there, too. Better get ready to apologize to him.” They could work out all of their drama without him. Ramsey had something more important waiting.

The nurse seemed to take extra slow steps as she led him down the hallway. Antiseptic burned his nose. The lights seemed too bright, and his heartbeat was far too loud in his ears. He wanted to break into a run and find Whitney. “Could we move any faster?”

She stopped in front of a doorway. “We’re here.” She opened the door.

It was oddly dim in that room after the brightness of the hallway, but he had no trouble seeing Whitney. She was in a bed, a sheet was pulled up to her chest, and a big, flat-screen monitor was to the right of the bed. A redheaded woman in a lab coat stood near the monitor, and another woman perched on a stool near the bed.

The lab-coat-wearing redhead turned toward him with a warm smile. “Ramsey, I presume?”

He looked at her name tag. Dr. Marshall. Whitney’s OB-GYN. He’d done plenty of digging on her and knew she was supposed to be the best in the area. “Yes.” The word came out sounding hoarse.

He cut a fearful glance toward Whitney.

She smiled at him. “I’m fine.”

“A concussion is hardly fine,” Dr. Marshall admonished sternly. “And that’s why you are staying in the hospital overnight.”

“I’m staying with her.” Ramsey’s fast response.

Dr. Marshall inclined her head. “She told me you’d say that. She also told me that you would very much want to be present for what’s happening next.”

What was happening? He hurried to Whitney’s side. Clasped her hand in his.

“The baby’s heartbeat is good. There is no sign of bleeding or distress. And Whitney—after her twenty-four-hour period of observation is complete—should be able to return home.”

He brought Whitney’s fingers to his mouth. Kissed the back of her hand. He was being told things were good, so why the hell did his body suddenly feel weak?

The woman sitting on the other side of Whitney’s bed lifted the sheet. She had some sort of device in her hand.

“You’ll want to look at the screen,” Dr. Marshall advised him.

He would? Why? But he looked.

And saw gray shapes emerge on the screen. The shapes twisted. Stretched. “Uh, what the hell am I looking at?”

Dr. Marshall laughed. Laughed? When he was close to losing his mind? This was not the time to be laughing. Maybe she wasn’t the best, after all. Maybe she was crazy.

She walked closer to the monitor and pointed. “You’re looking at your baby.”

His hold tightened on Whitney’s fingers.

“I wanted you to see this ultrasound,” Whitney whispered.

His lips parted.

“There is the head.” Dr. Marshall waved her hand.

He could see it. Ramsey could swear he saw eyes staring back at him. A little nose.

“Fingers. Oh, look.” Dr. Marshall beamed. “It looks like the baby is waving.”

He could see a tiny hand.

A strange sound filled the air. Woo, woo, woo, woo. Wind. Gasping?

“That’s the heartbeat,” the woman on the stool informed him. “Thought you might want to hear it.”

His breath came too fast. His heart seemed to beat in time with that precious woo, woo, woo.

“As I said,” Dr. Marshall peered at the monitor, “the heartbeat is good. There is no reason to believe the baby is in any sort of distress. This child is very, very strong.”

He had to blink. The screen had gone blurry on him.

“Do you want to know the sex?” Dr. Marshall inclined her head toward them. “I told Whitney that usually around eighteen weeks, the baby’s sex can be determined on the ultrasound. We’re a little early on that timeline, but I feel confident we can tell.” A pause. “Do you want to know?” she asked again.

“Yes,” Whitney said immediately. Then she pulled on his hand. “Wait, do we? Or do you want to be surprised?”

His gaze focused on her. His beautiful Whitney. She’d surprised him from the very first night. He’d never expected to love someone the way that he loved her. She’d walked into his life and changed everything.

There had been pain and fear and rage…Ramsey would never get over Jag’s betrayal, but…there had also been hope. Passion. The promise of a life that wasn’t just about darkness.

Love.

Whitney had given him so much.

“Do you want to know?” Whitney stared up at him with her beautiful eyes.

He bent and pressed a kiss to her lips. Sweet, sweet Whitney. “What do you want?” he murmured.

She laughed.

Laughed after the nightmare they’d been through.

“I want to know!” she kissed him again.

God, I love her. So much. So much that she made his heart seem bigger. He’d been so cold and alone for so long, but now everything was changing. Everything was different.

“Well,” the woman on the stool began. “You’re going to have…”

***

Ramsey burst into the waiting room. His ragged breath heaved from his chest, and he gripped the door in a hold that threatened to shatter the wood.

Jinx immediately ran toward him. Darius was right behind him.

“What happened?” Jinx grabbed Ramsey’s shoulders. “Tell me. Whatever it is, it’s going to be fine. I will be with you every step of the way. We can handle this. Look at me, brother. We can handle—”

“We’re having a little girl.” A wide, ridiculously happy grin spread across his face.

Jinx gaped. Shook his head. And the same grin slid over his face. “Uncle Jinxy is getting a niece?”

Before Ramsey could say anything else, Jinx hauled him close in a crushing hug.

A girl. A precious girl that I will love forever.

Just as he would love her mom.

Jinx eased back. “Everything is okay?” The others had crowded in behind them.

“The doctor said the baby is strong. I saw her. My baby. I saw her.” He couldn’t stop smiling. When the hell had he ever smiled so much? But the image of that dark screen with the gray form that shifted and moved and waved flashed through his mind. “She’s fucking beautiful.” Beautiful. And…

Vulnerable. So tiny and precious.

He inhaled. “We’ll protect her.”

“Damn straight, we will.” This response came from War. He rolled back his shoulders. “Always.”

Maybe the guy wasn’t such a prick, after all. Ramsey pulled out the precious piece of paper in his pocket. “They gave me a picture of her. Want to see?”

Darius grabbed the paper first as the others swarmed.

***

“No more concussions.” His voice was flat. His hold tender. “No more attacks. No more fires. No more terrifying years and years off my life.”

Whitney stared out at the pounding waves. The sun was setting, and the view from the balcony was spectacular. She’d stayed in the hospital for far too long. Mostly because Ramsey had insisted that every test under the sun be run on her. She’d assured him over and over again that she was fine.

But she knew he still worried.

He’d barely been more than two feet from her the entire time. Except for when he’d rushed to tell the others about the baby…

She gave a little gasp.

“What is it? Oh, dammit, I knew we should have stayed at the hospital longer. You’re in pain, aren’t you? You—”

She caught his right hand. Brought it to her stomach. Pressed. “Wait for it.”

And there it was. A little roll. A push. Maybe a hand or a foot or a shoulder but something of the baby’s thrust against him.

“Is that a kick?” he choked out.

“Or a high five. Or something.” She turned toward him.

His expression was absolutely priceless. So much joy and love. Her big, bad Ramsey. He was so very different now than he’d appeared the first time that she’d seen him. And, yes, she remembered that time. Did she remember everything? No. Maybe she never would. That was all right.

She didn’t need every single memory. Whitney knew she loved him, just as she knew with utter certainty that Ramsey loved her.

“I’m sorry about your bar.” She’d heard Darius tell him it had been a total loss.

“I’m not. I was done with that place, anyway.” His hand smoothed over her stomach.

“I’m sorry about Jag.”

His expression hardened. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re not sorry. Because then you’d be lying, and I don’t want lies between us.”

His gaze lifted.

“You were close to him, and it hurts. He’s dead.”

“He tried to hurt you. He was dead to me the minute he did that shit.” His gaze blazed. “He didn’t fall on the broken bottle.”

“I know,” she whispered. She’d heard the story. Known the truth.

“I couldn’t let him come after you. Not ever. And his death sent a damn message to anyone else who might ever think they could use you.”

She didn’t look away. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“Baby, you’re the only one who never seems scared of me.”

“Because I’m not. You think I wouldn’t kill to protect you? To protect our family? I would do it and never hesitate.” She’d been ready to kill as the fire spread through his bar. “You matter. If someone comes after you, I will be ready to do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“I love you so much.”

“Good. Because I love you even more.”

His lips brushed hers. “Not possible.”

He shouldn’t be too sure. “I loved you even when I couldn’t remember you.” Because some things—some people—just could not be erased. Her heart belonged to Ramsey.

It always would.

“I’ve made mistakes in the past.” His voice was gruff and dark and sexy. “Done things that crossed the line. I swear, I will not cross a line again. I want to be someone you can be proud of being with.”

“You were never my dirty secret, Ramsey.” She wanted everyone to know about them.

“My business interests are legitimate. Everything else is gone. And I have contacts in the government who are going to help make sure any problems vanish from my past.” A shake of his head. “My brother wasn’t the only one who knew how to make deals over the years.”

His past was dark and twisted, and she hated the pain he’d experienced. But the past was over. They were focusing on the future. “Do you have a name picked out?”

His lashes fluttered. “A name?”

“For our daughter. Because I’ve got some ideas…” One idea in particular.

“Like what?”

“Like Hope. I think that might be really nice…”

Ramsey swallowed. “I think it’s perfect.”

He kissed her again.

Perfect. The life she had with Ramsey—the future that waited—Whitney knew it would be better than any memory could ever possibly be…