Freely.
“You know, I never thought I’d show these to anybody. Now I’m right here with you while you read them, and I’m honestly considering the idea of sharing them further.”
“Does all that worry you?”
“No, I think it’s … I think it’s…” She pressed closer and suddenly smiled. “I think it’s proof you are all-powerful.”
Relaxing into her mood, Stellan chuckled.
“Thank you, baby,” she whispered.
“My pleasure,” he replied. “Even though I don’t know why you’re expressing gratitude. You giving me the honor of sharing this with me,” he lifted the sketchpad to indicate what he was talking about, “deserves the gratitude.”
“And that,” she lifted a finger and put it to his lips, “the fact you’d say something like that, the fact you’re that man, is why I’m thanking you.”
It was clearly time to move the evening onward.
Therefore, with care, Stellan reached out and set the sketchpad on his coffee table.
After he did that, he turned into his Simone.
And after enjoying something extraordinary that was all Simone, he enjoyed something tremendously extraordinary that was all Simone.
Simone.
SIXX
Sixx got into her Cayenne, looked at the dash, and froze.
On it was propped a female action figurine wearing a fake leather bodysuit, little plastic high-heeled boots, a tiny mask over its eyes, short brown hair on its head, a miniature whip in its hand.
In front of it sat a folded-over note with Sixx written on it.
Carefully, she reached out, took hold of the note and unfolded it.
It read:
Sixx–
Debt paid.
Not going to miss worrying about your crazy ass.
But I’m going to miss you.
–Your Favorite Asshole
Carlo.
She looked up and around the parking lot, seeing random people, not seeing Carlo.
As she wouldn’t.
But he’d been watching her. He was likely watching her right now.
Thus he knew more than from the fact he hadn’t heard from her (undoubtedly looking into it because of that fact) that she was out of commission.
He’d also figured out why.
And he was happy for her.
She grinned at the action figure as she took hold of it.
It was the second doll she’d ever owned.
This one was kickass.
So this one she would keep.
But that wasn’t the only reason why.
She bent the doll’s legs to sit her on the seat beside Sixx and pulled out her phone.
Next time you’re in town, come to dinner and meet my man, she texted Carlo.
She was not surprised when she got no reply.
She did not yearn for any part of her old life.
But seriously …
He could be a pain in the ass.
But she was going to miss that guy.
SIMONE
Simone was sitting next to Stellan at the island, having her breakfast and listening to M prattle when Stellan’s phone rang.
She looked to him to see him staring at it sitting beside his plate, but her eyes immediately darted to the phone when she saw his brows had drawn together ominously.
She just caught that the screen said HARRY CALLING before he snatched it up and put it to his ear.
“Hello, Harry, how—?” he started, stopped, and shoved back his stool so violently in order to burst out of it, Simone grew still before she jumped off her own stool, her gaze shooting to M who was staring at Stellan, her face now pale.
“Of course,” Stellan said on the move. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Simone chased after him.
M chased after Simone.
“Yes, right. Yes. I promise, Harry, I’ll be there shortly,” Stellan told him, and Simone practically had to run to keep up with his long, agitated strides.
He’d clearly disconnected because he took the phone from his ear.
Before she could ask, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, but did it still moving.
“Susan’s gone into labor. Harry needs someone to look after Crosby,” he shared tersely.
Oh no.
“She’s not due—” Simone started.
“For six more weeks,” Stellan clipped out, yanking open the door to the garage with such force, it was a wonder he didn’t pull it off its hinges.
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
“Thank you,” he bit off.
She kept hustling after him as she turned back to M.
“We’ll be in touch,” she said.
M stood in the door she was holding open and nodded.
Stellan practically threw himself in his Tesla.
Simone followed suit.
She let him concentrate as he pulled out and only spoke when they were on the road.
Putting her hand on his thigh, she gave it a squeeze as she said softly, “It’s going to be okay.”
Stellan made no reply.
He just drove.
STELLAN
Stellan looked to Simone, who was standing in the waiting room with Crosby on her hip and was swinging him around, chattering to him, and he was chattering back like they were carrying on a weighty conversation when they were enumerating his favorite stuffed animals.
Stellan’s chest felt like it was filled with quickly drying concrete.
It was the second time in his life when he consciously had to remind himself to breathe.
The first was when he’d opened the door to his own car in his father’s garage and realized his sister was dead.
Harry had been sent out of the delivery room due to the fact they’d had to perform surgery. An emergency C-section, for some reason that had been explained, but Stellan was not in the state to grasp, both mother and child were in distress.
However, half an hour ago, Harry had been called to his wife.
They gave no further news, no staff had returned to share any, and they’d not seen Harry since.
Stellan sat still in his chair, which he thought was a miracle considering he was coming out of his skin.
“Who’s that?” he heard Simone ask, and he focused on her, saw her head bent toward Crosby still at her hip, but she was pointing at Stellan.
“Steyan!” Crosby yelled.
She pointed to herself. “Who’s this?”
“Shimone!”
“That’s me.” She smiled at him and held him closer, swinging him around. “Shimone.”
“Daddy!” Crosby cried.
Simone whipped around, and Stellan’s head jerked toward the door as he straightened from his seat.
Harry walked in looking haggard, but not destroyed, and Stellan started breathing slightly easier.
He was with a nurse, but she stopped at the door to the waiting room as Harry strode right up to Simone and gently took his son from her arms.
He pulled him tight to his chest, murmuring, “Hey, son, hey, boy.” He drew in a ragged breath. “You’ve got a baby sister.”
Stellan closed his eyes.
“Shishter!” Crosby shouted.
Stellan opened his eyes and watched Harry’s come to him.
“She wants you, brother.”
Stellan glanced at Simone, fell more deeply in love with her at the soft relief shining from her beautiful face as she kept her gaze on him, but he did this walking directly to the nurse.
“Just follow me,” she said.
He did, and he felt she moved far too slowly.
He was taken to the door of a room that, when she stopped at it, and before she could say a word, he pushed straight through.
The nurse did not follow, and she vanished from his mind as he saw a wan Susan lying propped in a hospital bed with a very tiny bundle cuddled to her chest.
Stellan stopped dead at the door, hearing it close behind him, but with the crush of emotion he had not allowed himself to feel landing on him now that he saw them both alive and well, he was unable to move.
Susie’s eyes lifted right to him.
“She’s fine,” she said, sounding how she looked—exhausted. “She’s breathing on her own and nursing on her own, which is a relief. They say she’ll sleep a lot, and we’ll have to help her keep warm. But other than that, she’s good. I’m good. We’re all good, Stell.”
Stellan still didn’t move.
Susie kept her gaze locked to him.
“We’ve named her Silie, honey,” she whispered.
It was at that he remained unmoving for an entirely different reason.
Also at that he allowed one.
Just one.