“It’s time,” Grace announced.
Deanna closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table. She glanced at her watch. “You ready?”
“Whenever you are.” Grace’s stomach churned with excitement. Tonight she would introduce her week-old son to his father. Eager to please Roman, she wore the blue angora sweater he liked. She bundled Christian in a hand-made quilt and carried him to the front door. She snatched her navy jacket from the coat rack, and they were on their way.
As expected, traffic on Ortega Highway was sparse at nine o’clock in the evening. Their trip was problem free—even traffic lights cooperated. And with speed-demon Deanna behind the wheel of her Jetta, they arrived at the institute in record time.
The guard shack was empty. At the security gate, Deanna turned off the headlights and rolled down the window. She punched the access code, provided by Roman, onto the keypad. The gate swung open and she drove onto the property.
According to plan, the outside lights had been turned off. Lady Luck continued to smile on them. A full moon provided enough light to drive safely without headlights. Except for a dark, late model sedan, the lot was empty. Deanna reached the building and turned left, toward the laboratory wing. Once there, she pulled up to the entrance and stopped.
“We’re here.” Deanna slipped out of the driver’s seat and hurried to open the back door.
Grace undid her seat belt and stepped outside. She smiled at her sleeping baby. Through all her jostling to ready him for the outing, it was a miracle he remained asleep. Reaching inside, she undid the belt securing Christian’s car seat, and lifted him to her chest. Her tiny son wriggled in her arms, but didn’t awaken.
“I’m scared to death. Say a little prayer no one sees us,” she whispered.
“Will do. Good luck.” Deanna touched the baby’s face, and handed Grace a bottle filled with breast milk. “See you later, cutie,” she whispered to Christian, and gave Grace a thumbs up. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
Holding her child close to her chest, Grace glanced at the security camera over the door. When the camera showed no signs of life, she exhaled. So far, so good. She knocked lightly on the door and it opened immediately. A man in a lab coat, stood in the doorway.
Eyeing him suspiciously, she hoped he was Roman’s inside man. “Dr. Peters?”
“You’re right on time.” He peeked around her to scan the parking lot. “Hurry.”
Tightening her grasp on the baby, she stepped inside. As she followed Peters, their footsteps echoed in the stark, white hallway.
He grasped the doorknob on a closed door and hesitated. A grave expression spread across his face. “I don’t want you to be alarmed, but what you’re going to see will shock you.” He sucked in a deep breath and pushed it out quickly. “Roman’s had a massive heart attack. He’s very weak. But he’s a fighter and is looking forward to seeing you and his son.” He glanced at the powered-off security camera in the corner of the ceiling near the exit. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
Grace nodded and swallowed hard. “He needs to meet his son.”
“I understand.” Dr. Peter’s eyes misted and he pushed open the door.
She peeked inside the small, dimly lit room. Near the door, a nightlight glowed. To the left of the doorway, against the wall, Roman rested on a narrow hospital bed. He appeared thin and gaunt—much worse than she imagined. Her knees buckled.
Gripping her elbow firmly, he held her upright. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Peters.” She regained her footing and stepped across the threshold. Keeping her focus on Roman, she inched toward him.
“Everyone calls me Doc.”
A whirring sound distracted her. Her gaze swung to a rotating table fan resting on a desk under the window. The blinds were drawn. A vanilla scented room deodorizer sat next to the fan. Vanilla had always been one of Roman’s favorite scents. The simple detail added for his comfort, caused her breath to hitch.
With little time to spare, she removed the quilt that cocooned her baby and draped it over a high-back chair. Carrying their infant son, she stepped to the narrow hospital-style bed and leaned against the bed rail.
“Roman, it’s me, Grace.”
His eyelids fluttered open. “Grace.” The corners of his mouth twitched upward.
“Your son would like to meet you.” Her own voice sounded thick and hoarse. Tears filled her eyes. She held Christian close to Roman, making it easier for him to see his son’s face.
Doc turned on the small table lamp next to the bed.
Alarm surged through her and she bit back a gasp. She misspoke when she assured Doc that she was prepared to see Roman in his deteriorated condition. He appeared more fragile than their newborn, and she barely recognized the strong man she’d fallen in love with. His skin had a grayish hue. His dark eyes had lost their sparkle, and his hair had lost its sheen. She fought to still her trembling hands.
“I want to see my son,” Roman whispered. “Help me sit up.”
Doc rushed to his bedside and adjusted the position of the bed, raising Roman to a partially sitting-up position. He propped a pillow behind Roman’s head.
Squinting at the infant, Roman whispered, “He’s beautiful.”
“I know,” she answered, forcing her words past the lump in her throat. The room started spinning. She grew faint. Her world was crashing in around her. The man she loved was dying and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it. Losing him would be unbearable.
He reached up and touched her face. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
She opened her mouth to speak, and realizing her quaking voice would betray her, said nothing. Grief and dismay had launched a spear through her heart. She needed a word of comfort and searched the small room for Doc. As tears slid down her cheeks, her gaze found his.
Doc cleared his throat. “He’s a good looking kid, Roman, even if he does resemble you.” His voice shook as he spoke. “I’m sorry I forgot to ask. What’s the young man’s name?”
“Christian Alexander,” she answered, barely above a whisper. She touched Roman’s face. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. He’ll never watch his child grow to be a man. It wasn’t fair.
“Let me touch him.” Roman set her hand down and reached for his son.
She held Christian in front of him.
Tenderly, he grazed his fingertips over his son’s tiny face. “Thank you for giving me such a beautiful child.”
Doc touched Grace’s shoulder. “You need to hurry. I’m afraid it won’t be long before someone notices the lights in the parking lot and a few surveillance cameras are turned off.” He placed his hand under her arm and gently moved her from Roman’s bedside.
“But I just got here.”
“Please, Doc,” Roman said. “Give us a little more time.”
Doc grimaced. “All right, but only a few more minutes.”
“Thank you.” She tried harnessing her emotions, but failed. Agony over Roman’s fate took the form of tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t stand being away from you. I love you.”
Christian started fussing. To quiet him, she kissed his cheek and held him closer. Once he settled down, she pulled the baby bottle from her pocket and set it on the nightstand.
“He’s always hungry when he wakes up.”
“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable sitting down when you feed him.” Doc moved the chair next to Roman and motioned for her to sit.
She eased herself onto the chair, uncapped the nipple on the bottle, and swiped it across Christian’s lips. He panted and moved his head back and forth across the nipple before latching onto it and drinking vigorously.
As the baby continued to feed, Roman touched his head. “My sweet, beautiful, precious angel.”
Doc cleared his throat. “Grace, I need to remind you…the surveillance cameras.”
She set the bottle on the nightstand. “Doc, can you hold him for me?”
“I’d be happy to.”
Grace handed him the infant. With both arms free, she went to Roman and held his face in her hands. Her lips brushed his.
“Say goodbye to Christian for me. Promise you’ll tell him that his father loved him more than anything.” His weak voice trembled.
“I promise.” She wept quietly.
“Please don’t. I always hated when you cried.”
A tear dripped on Roman’s cheek and she wiped it away. “I can’t help it. My heart is breaking.” How could she survive without the man she loved at her side?
He stroked her hair. “So is mine, sweetheart. So is mine.”
Knowing the answer, she asked anyway, hoping for a different response, “Can I visit you again?”
“I don’t have much time left.” His fingers grazed her cheek and he touched her hair. His dark eyes pierced her soul.
At that moment she knew, without a doubt, Roman would always be her one true love. She wanted to tell him, but her throat seized, strangling her words.
He stared into her eyes and mouthed, “I love you.”
Pressing his hand to her lips, she kissed his palm.
“Before you go, will you do something for me?” he whispered.
“Anything.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me when I die. I’ve been in hell for so long. Then I met you and found hope. Will you pray for my soul?”
Even though her father was a minister, she had never done anything like this before and feared she’d make a mistake. “I don’t think I know how.”
“Yes, you do.”
Resting her head on his chest, she closed her eyes and pleaded with the Almighty to accept him. She grasped his hand and held it.
He stroked her hair. “You did fine, Grace. He heard your heart. Look at me.” His smile had become peaceful as he stared into her eyes, her soul. “You’re so beautiful.” He touched her sweater and smiled. “You remembered.” He breathed in and out slowly. “Thank you…for being you,” he whispered and closed his eyes.
“It’s time to leave,” Doc said.
Tears streamed down her face as she backed away from Roman’s bed and reached for her baby. “Thank you for everything, Doc,” she whispered and received her infant.
The baby wailed. Holding her son to her chest, Grace snatched the quilt from the chair and followed Doc.
He rushed her out of Roman’s room, down the short hallway, and through the exit leading to the parking lot. As promised, Deanna’s car was parked near the door, engine running, waiting for her, ready to speed off.
The exit door slammed shut. Grace leaned against it and called Roman’s name. She pushed off and struggled to place one foot in front of the other. Her knees quaked and she began to fall. Before hitting the pavement, a steady arm caught and lifted her.
Had she been apprehended by Crawford? Had coming here put Christian in danger? Roman? Feeling as helpless as the baby she held, she tried crying out, but her voice remained silent. With a baby in her arms, she couldn’t fight back.
“Hurry. Crawford heard the baby’s cry,” a strong, male voice said.
Her breath caught. “Who? Wha…?” She turned to see who hurried Christian and her along.
“Gabriel?” Seeing the face of the man who’d saved her from Father Darius, her fear disappeared.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” He opened the car door and helped her and her child inside.
“Roman’s dying.”
“I know. Now get out of here before Crawford sees you.”
“What’s going on?” Deanna shouted from the front seat.
“Grace will explain. Now move,” he shouted.
“But I didn’t say goodbye…didn’t even get a chance…” Grace quickly secured Christian in his car seat while her heart shattered into a million pieces.
“Haul ass. Now!” Gabriel slammed the car door shut.
Deanna stomped on the gas pedal, and with tires squealing, raced for the exit…as the lights in the parking lot came to life.