Page 127 of Embracing the Beat
WEST
My entire life is somewhere behind doors they wouldn’t let me through.
And not being with her—not being with them—is slow torture.
For the next hour, I pace back and forth in the waiting room, ignoring the glares Mia shoots in my direction every few steps.
“You’re a dick,” she spits out, ignoring her husband when he tries to calm her down.
“I’m not arguing with you,” I tell her.
“I hope you’re ready to eat your own balls, because Sawyer is on his way.” Her voice is a little too gleeful at the prospect, but I can appreciate it. Everything she’s saying comes from her love for Michaela and her own stress.
“Amelia,” Garrett whispers. “Enough.”
“But—”
He raises a brow and cuts off any other protests with a kiss before pulling back.
“He’s worried about Michaela. About the baby. Now isn’t the time or the place. Let it go.”
She turns back to me, and for the first time, something other than hatred fills her eyes—curiosity.
“Are you genuinely worried about them?”
“More than anything,” I tell her, letting her see every emotion rioting through my body.
“You wouldn’t know that by your radio silence the last several months,” she says.
I sigh. “I didn’t know what to say. I did call, but I didn’t leave messages. Every time I heard her voice on her greeting, every thought in my head disappeared.”
“She didn’t tell me you called,” Mia admits. “Why now?”
“Because the fear that I would live the rest of my life without her—without them—finally overcame the fear that an apology wouldn’t be enough, the fear of rejection. I wouldn’t know if repairing my relationship with her was possible unless I finally got off my ass and tried.”
My biggest fear now is that I’m too late.
Please don’t let anything happen to them.
I have no idea who I’m talking to, but I keep repeating the request.
The last sixty minutes have felt six hundred years long. I can’t come this far to lose either one of them. But remembering how Michaela pulled away from me, I have so much more to do to convince her to give me another chance.
“You son of a bitch.”
Sawyer charges forward, but Garrett steps in front of him, holding up his hands.
“Not the time or the place, Sawyer.”
“Step outside then, asshole. That’ll be the perfect time and place.” He cracks his knuckles, his eyes snapping disgust at me. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I…I didn’t do anything.” Although guilt gnaws at my gut. Is this my fault? “We were talking, and then she doubled over in pain.” My heart races at the memory, the way agony had dropped over her face between one breath and the next.
“I don’t fucking believe you.”
“I don’t need you to believe me,” I fire back. “I need you to find out what the fuck is going on. They won’t tell Mia or me shit since we’re not family.”
I point to the nurse’s station, holding his fiery gaze until he finally shrugs out of Garrett’s light hold and stalks to the desk. The change in him is so instantaneous, I’m dizzy with it. Gone is the fire-breathing soldier, and in his place is a concerned older brother.
