Saving Poughkeepsie
Chaos offered a picture and sent it to Kyle’s phone, but she refused to look. She needed to see him in person first. She closed her eyes and the next thirteen minutes took her back through their years of trying for a baby…red, the worst color of all…how many times she and Cole had held each other as disappointment slammed into them.
When they arrived, Cole surprised her by pulling into a doctor’s reserved spot—not his usual style. The tires had barely stopped when Kyle was out of the car. Inside, the staff was ready, asking for identification, then leading them both to their first glimpse of John.
In the room sat a very tired-looking Chery. Chaos had his arms folded, watching over the bassinet.
A few steps into the room and Kyle could see the baby. Her baby. He was swaddled with a red blanket, embroidered with the name John Blake. Somewhere in her head, she realized this was a gift from Chery and Chaos. But instead of responding, she looked at the newborn’s face.
Kyle had felt this feeling once before, when she’d first laid eyes on Cole. It was the almost audible snap of her life clicking into place. There was life before John and, thank God, from this second on, there would be an after with him.
She reached to pick him up before hesitating, looking to Chery. Her eyes were teary, but her voice was strong. “Go on, now. Your baby’s been waiting a long time to meet you.”
Kyle slipped her hand under his head and picked up her son while Cole took a picture with his phone because they’d forgotten the camera in the car. Chaos offered her his chair and moved next to Chery.
Kyle sat, holding on to John with gentle sureness. “Happy Birthday, son. I love you so much.” Cole knelt next to her, putting his big hand atop hers on the red blanket. In that moment, Kyle knew she would never hate the color red again. Because of him. His eyes were brown and looked at her seriously. His lips were a beautiful color of red as well.
“Look at those cheeks!” Cole uncovered John’s hand from the swaddling. They looked in shock at his tiny little hand.
“I forgot how small the new ones are.” Kyle leaned over and kissed John’s forehead, sniffing him.
Cole did the same before offering his lips to Kyle. Then he turned back to the boy. “Hey, son. I have so many plans for you! I’ve already got you a baseball glove. We’re going to play catch and maybe fish.”
Kyle and Cole fussed over John, sighing when he fell asleep. Chaos gave Cole a packet of information the nurse had passed to him, then shortly the nurses arrived, fitting the whole family with hospital bracelets.
“We have a room set aside for you guys,” one of them explained. “Would you like to go there and let Chery get some sleep?”
Again Kyle looked, but Chery waved her on.
The nurse took John from Kyle’s arms and placed him in the bassinet. “He gets to travel in style.”
Kyle and Cole hugged Chaos and Chery before following the nurse out of the room. One last glance over her shoulder left Kyle shuddering. Chery had crumpled into Chaos, obviously dissolving into tears.
Cole followed Kyle’s line of sight before hugging her and hurrying her on. “Look at him, he’s such a miracle. I’m sure this is tough on her.”
Kyle nodded and followed the nurse into their own hospital room. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes to go over a few basics with you,” the woman said. “And it will be time for John’s bottle.”
They stood at the edge of the bassinet, peering into their future. Cole leaned down and picked up the baby carefully. “I’m so in love.”
Kyle grabbed his phone to take more pictures. It rang as soon as she snapped the first shot. Beckett was calling.
She answered, “Thank you. I can’t even…he is so beautiful.”
“Everybody’s good? Awesome. Text me a picture immediately. Did you name him Beckett Taylor Bridge? Don’t let me down, Fairy Princess.”
She could hear him smiling. Their conversations were often laced with insults, but today this man was the reason she was a mom.
“You know, if you weren’t in Cole’s life, this beautiful baby wouldn’t be in front of us. You’re a motherfucking angel.” She wiped away her copious tears, loving the sight of Cole holding his son.
“You better clean up that filthy mouth, Mommy. And I never looked at it that way before. Very nice.” Kyle heard Beckett filling someone in on the birth of the child.
“Who’s that?”
“Eve. She says congrats.”
“Wow. Very nice indeed. Tell her thank you. I know you want to talk to your brother, so let me get my son out of his arms.” Kyle accepted John’s feather weight gratefully after she set the phone down on a chair.
She could only hear Cole’s side, but she could easily imagine Beckett, the deadly teddy bear, reacting to the news.
“Yeah. He’s great,” Cole said. “Chery seems to be doing well…I think it was tough. Definitely…Chaos is a stand-up guy. No, not this one, brother. John Blake Bridge is the one we decided to go with…Eight pounds, nine ounces and twenty-one inches long. He’s eating like a champ so far according to his chart…Will do. And Beck? I love you.”
Kyle’s eyes filled again. Those brothers didn’t say it out loud much.
As Cole hung up, the nurse returned with an armful of supplies, and Kyle felt her eyes go wide. They were about to learn a few things about their newborn son.
Blake sipped his cold coffee as Livia sat in front of Kellan’s high chair. Emme was busy in the next room dressing Marx, the dog Beckett had insisted they adopt from the shelter, as a frog princess. It was a simple morning—the kind of simple morning Blake could hardly have dreamed of years before, when he spent his days at the train station and his nights in handmade shelters in the woods, avoiding the sun at all costs. How far he’d come. How far they’d come together.
Marx tore into the room, stopping to roll in a desperate attempt to get the frog costume off and forcing Blake out of his memories. He shook his head and laughed as Emme came racing after him, certain if he just gave the costume a chance he’d love it.
It was also a day of big plans. Livia’s list lay on the counter with almost all the items checked off. Planning for a trip to Disney World seemed like a sport to his wife. According to Cole, the love of the place ran in the family, as Kyle had been marathon packing for them as well.
Emme gave Princess Frog Dog the update after Marx collapsed in a heap on the kitchen floor with a defeated sigh: “You’re going to a kennel. Daddy says it’s like a dog hotel. So no biting. And no stomping your feet, because the dogs below you are trying to sleep.” She pointed at the dog who gamely licked her finger. “You are so silly. And I’ll pack your favorite toy and draw you a picture of us for your hotel room. Mommy, does Marx need change for the vending machine?”
Livia smiled. “No, sweetheart. The dogs get their food delivered. That reminds me…” She turned toward him. “Did you make copies of his shot record? He got the kennel cough one last visit.”
Blake watched as she made sure the last bits of Kellan’s food were bite size. She pointed to her spot in front of their son’s high chair as her phone rang.
“My sister,” she explained. “’Sup, Kyle! Are you ready to spank Mickey with me?” Livia walked out of the room.
Emme stood next to Blake, shaking her head. “What’s up, big head?” he asked her. His daughter rolled her eyes before climbing into his lap. “You’re not supposed to be able to make that face until you’re a teenager.”
Kellan tried out one of his new words, “Meme! Meme!”
Emme reached out and held his hand while putting her other hand on Blake’s face, rubbing his stubble. “Mommy better be careful with all that spanking talk. Mickey will put her in Disney jail.”
Blake pretended to bite her hand while she giggled. “Disney jail?” he asked.
Emme turned so she could look at him seriously. “Goofy runs it. And he’s a nightmare.”
Blake busted out laughing. He only stopped when he saw Livia, wearing a very shocked
face, return from the other room.
“What’s up?” Blake put his daughter on her feet before freeing Kellan from the high chair.
“We just became an aunt and uncle?” Her phone made the sound for a text message delivered.
“Kyle’s pregnant? That’s great!” Blake watched as Kellan wobbled over to his favorite toy: beads on a track. Emme went back to the dog, still talking about Disney jail.
“No, we have a nephew—as of last night. They adopted a baby in Maryland.” She looked at her phone, tears in her eyes instantly. Blake drew close and put his arm around her.
The baby looked like all newborns. He read the message out loud: “Your nephew, John Blake Bridge. He’s healthy and beautiful.”
“Aww.” Livia pulled him into a hug. “Your brother loves you so much. My dad? My dad is going to freak out! Apparently Kyle called him just before me.”
“They’re in Maryland? Can we swing by on the way to Florida? I’m guessing they’re not coming with us now.” Blake looked at the next picture, in which Cole pretended to do the brothers’ handshake, wrapping forearms to connect their matching tattoos, with his son’s tiny—and thankfully untattooed—arm.
“I’m so happy for them. Did you know about this?” Livia gave him a stern look.
“No, not at all. Let me call Beckett and see if he knew.”
Blake went out on the porch and slid the door closed. His brother picked up on the first ring.
“Hello, you handsome motherfucker.”
“And back at you, Uncle Beckett.” Blake grinned.
“Right? You guys are providing the earth with a lot of gorgeous kids. Today is a beautiful day for sure.”
Blake smiled wider, hearing the joy in his voice.
“How’s everybody in that house? Whitebread packing her ass off?”
“She loves to pack, that’s for sure. We’re great,” Blake said. “Did you know about this going down?” He leaned over and began to weed the flowerbeds out of habit.
“It’s on the up and up, if that’s what you’re asking. You know Cole wouldn’t have it any other way. I just helped them make the connection. You remember Chery from Maryland? Well, she was in a way and needed help, and Cole and Kyle have had…issues.”
Blake stood and tossed the weeds into the woods. “I know, but it seems sudden, right?”
“We’ve known for a while, but they wanted to keep it quiet until it was a done deal.” Beckett sounded like he was walking upstairs. “I’m headed down there in a few hours to get a peek at the little guy. And maybe change their minds about that lame-ass middle name…”
Blake shook his head. “Seriously? Blake is a very manly name. I mean Beckett, that could be a golden retriever’s name. Isn’t it a brand of tennis racket?”
“Son, you named your boy after me.” Beckett seemed a little giddy.
“Oh yeah, I guess it is pretty kick ass. We’re leaving for Florida in a bit, but we were thinking of swinging by and saying congrats. Livia’s going to want to sniff the head and all.”
“Dude.”
“The baby’s head, you dirty-minded bastard. It’s a thing with women.” Blake looked through the window to see Livia washing the breakfast dishes. She put bubbles on her hand and blew them like a kiss. The soap splattered on the window.
Beckett talked to someone in the background for a few seconds, making the case to come with him see the baby.
Blake recognized the responding female voice as his cousin’s. “Whoa, you have Eve with you?”
“Yes. Yes, I do, actually. She says she can’t come to Maryland, which is pissing me off. I’ll text you when I change her mind and get on the road. Later, brother.”
Beckett was gone before Blake had a chance to say anything further, so he went back in to Livia. “Well, it’s going to be a whole reunion! You think your father can deal with Beckett? ’Cause he and Eve might be coming too.”
“He’ll deal. Eve, you say? Really?”
Blake counted Livia’s delighted smile.
A little later that morning, Eve parked her motorcycle outside Starbucks in the crisp November air and used her credit card to pay for street parking. Beckett had given her hell for not going with him to Maryland. But although she was thrilled that Cole and Kyle were finally getting their child, the sight of a baby still killed something in her. And she could find no way to tell him that. So he was pissed, and had left strict instructions for her to take douchebags with her everywhere she went until he got back. He wanted nothing left to chance while he was out of town.
However, at the moment, instead of accompanying assholes, she had her piece on her and a knife tucked inside her jacket. It had been months since their showdown with Rodolfo Vitullo, and neither he or anyone else from Vitullo Weapons had bothered them. Well, the old man had been leaving messages on Beckett’s phone, but with the intel she’d liberated from Sevan Harmon about Vitullo’s not-so-savory dealings in their back pocket, they felt fairly protected. Besides, she just needed a quick cocoa.
She got in line and ordered her usual. But when she went to pay, Police Officer Ryan Morales’s voice was in her ear. “Let me.”
Eve nodded, keeping her eyes on the counter. She knew having to face Ryan was coming eventually, now that she lived in Poughkeepsie again. It was a miracle it had been this long, but she just wished she’d seen him coming. As they waited for their drinks, she looked him up and down—handsome, but more rugged than last time. And he still had love for her in his eyes, which made her look away.
“Ride here on the back of someone’s bike?” he asked, gesturing to her helmet.
She responded with her best not-fucking-likely glare.
“You have your own?” He grabbed her drink before the barista could call Eve’s name, then took the next order right out of the lady’s hand.
“I do.” She tapped her foot and looked at her beverage.
“Come with me to a table, and I’ll let you have it.” He gave her a smile.
He was trying. She hated how deeply she’d hurt him. Their undercover work together in Mary Ellen Vitullo’s organization had blossomed into a complicated friendship, and for Ryan, something more.
“Fine.” She followed him to a corner spot and sat, resting her helmet on the extra chair.
“This is where it all started.” He slid her cup across to her waiting hand.
She said nothing, but took a sip of the piping hot chocolate.
“Fancy meeting you here.” He tried again. “I was just thinking about you.”
She could see women in the shop looking at him. He made a nice package in his crisp slacks and button-down shirt. She sighed.
“Listen, I’m not trying to make this awkward for you. I just wanted you to know I looked into my uncles’ records, like you suggested. I unearthed some buried juvie reports.” He twirled his coffee in his hands. “There was some information there I wanted to address with you. You were—”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she interrupted. “Why change your memories of them? You should have ignored me and left well enough alone.”
His jaw tensed. “Because as much as I said I didn’t believe you, I didn’t think you’d…” he looked around before lowering his voice “…kill people without a reason. Now Taylor, yes. I still think he’s a barnacle on a dragon’s testicle.”
Eve suppressed a laugh.
“Okay, whatever. I’m nervous.”
She smiled at him and sighed. “You know you taught me to laugh. I didn’t do it enough before you.”
He stopped talking and took a sip of his coffee. They sat together, the distance between them so much greater than the table.
“You with him now?” Ryan stared out the window.
“Yeah.” She crossed her legs and accidentally brushed against his under the table. “Sorry.”
“For kicking me or for throwing your life away?” He leveled his brown eyes on her.
“If you thought that was a kick, we have an issue.” She tried to make li
ght of his question, but things were getting awkward. She got to the point. “You need to move past me now.”
He shook his head and frowned. “I disagree. I’m not one for giving up.”
“Let’s review: You’re a cop. I’m the exact opposite of that.” Eve touched his hand. “And besides, he’s where I’ll always be, even if it’s just in my head. You deserve better.” She stood and grabbed her helmet. “That sounds fake, but I want the best for you. I really do.” She shrugged, knowing he’d never understand how much she wished they could be friends. She’d miss him.
He nodded instead of answering, and Eve tossed her cup out on the way to her bike, a thousand emotions swirling through her. By the time she looked up, it was already too late.
Ryan watched her leave, silently hating how goddamn beautiful she was. It would be a hell of a lot easier to sit rejected if he didn’t have a giant hard-on. And she wasn’t driving a motorcycle.
Fuck me sideways. He hung his head. Damned if he hadn’t lost her forever. And it sucked. Son of a bitch. He looked down at the table, running his hands through his hair until the red and blue lights reflecting off the walls of the coffee shop caught his attention.
He stood and turned, looking for the source, and he saw Eve kneeling on the sidewalk with her hands in the air.
Ryan walked briskly outside, where two policemen had their guns drawn and pointed at her.
“Keep your hands nice and high where we can see them,” one of them admonished.
Ryan couldn’t stop himself. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Step aside, sir.”
“This is police business.”
“Really? Then you won’t have any trouble sharing.” He pulled his badge out of his jacket and showed it to the men.
A look of panic flashed between them. Although they were in uniform, they had what appeared to be an unmarked car.
“What’s your station house? Because I know this isn’t a local situation.” Ryan stepped closer to the armed men and looked at Eve. She was staying put, hands in the air.