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Angel Grace Chapter 5

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No one else came near me. The nursing staff gave me a wide berth as I sat with my arms crossed, giving off a definite ‘do not approach’ vibe. I remained still and awake, unwilling to put myself in another compromising position. When Damian stepped into the hall at a little after seven, he looked more haggard than I felt.

“I didn’t get much sleep,” he said, rubbing his face and covering a lingering yawn. “I need to get us out of here. Today,” he added and gave a little shake of his head.

I didn’t disagree, especially with the nocturnal encounter. I remained seated.

“You can hang in the room while I’m gone, if you want.”

“I’m fine right here,” I said, meeting his gaze. He hesitated, glancing at the cracked door. “If she needs help, she can give me a yell. But, honestly, if I’m out here, I can see what’s coming.”

He gave me a nod. “Don’t let them sweep up the salt, okay?”

“No problem. No one is getting through that door,” I said, reassuring him and he turned, heading toward the elevator. “Just make sure you get a car big enough to take me home, too,” I called after him. His chuckle filled my head and then he stepped into the elevator and his thoughts blended with the rest of the low-grade din.

As the morning went on, the hallway traffic increased, and with it, so did the tension in my muscles, stretching them taut across my chest like an ever tightening strap. Every face could be a threat, especially since I wasn’t a hundred percent on my game and I finally stood, retreating into the room just to catch a break.

Naomi looked up from the chair with a baby at each breast and my mouth dropped in surprise. I snapped my gaze to the ceiling and spun back towards the door. Her light laughter at my response made me chuckle as well, but I still didn’t turn toward her.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice full of exhaustion and humor.

“Morning,” I said still facing the door.

“You don’t have to stand in the corner like that,” she said.

I took a deep breath, turning toward her again and my gaze kept dropping to the infants latched on her breasts. “Does that hurt?” I asked, forcing my gaze to hers.

“A little,” she said and offered a shrug. “Can you give me a hand?”

I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it because I didn’t want to sound like an idiot. Instead, I just nodded and noticed the trembling in her arms as she shifted. I know breast feeding is supposed to be natural and all that, but for a guy, it makes things... uncomfortable. Especially when it was someone as stunningly beautiful as Naomi.

“Please, take Michael, he needs to be burped,” she said, struggling to pull the little guy from her right side.

I paused and she looked up at me, with those big, brown, expectant eyes. As I crossed the room, I kept repeating the silent mantra, this is Damian’s wife, and it helped put things into perspective. I gingerly wrapped my hands around the baby’s midsection and pulled him toward me, painfully aware of her soft flesh as it brushed against my knuckles. Sucking sounds filled the air and I couldn’t help it, my gaze dropped from hers to her fully exposed breast before I turned with the baby in my arms. Heat filled my cheeks and I brought Michael to my shoulder, ignoring the urge to turn back and ogle.

I got the sense that my behavior amused Naomi.

Cooing in the baby’s ear, I rubbed his back and stepped toward the bed, putting some distance between us. When the baby let out a burp in my ear, I chanced turning.

Naomi had her shirt buttoned and Gabriel on her shoulder, coaxing a burp out of Michael’s little brother. She was grinning at me like we shared a secret joke and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, I know, it’s supposed to be natural,” I said and she shrugged, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just needed a hand, and since Damian’s gone, you were it.” She stood, bringing the baby to one of the empty bassinettes and proceeded to change his diaper and swaddle him before turning to me with her hands out. “After yesterday, I don’t trust the staff here,” she added and I relinquished Michael.

I couldn’t blame her. I had stayed up all night because of the same lack of trust.

“Demons suck,” I muttered and she sent a laugh in my direction.

“Yes, they do,” she said and swaddled Michael, putting him in the third bassinette.

“What about Grace?” I asked and looked at the sleeping child.

“She ate a little while ago, before the boys woke.” Naomi climbed onto the bed, yawning. “I am so tired,” she said and I helped her with the covers, tucking her in. “Thank you,” she mumbled and her eyelids dropped.

I thought about going back to my perch outside the door, but I was tired, too, and at least inside the room, I knew there was a barrier between us and hell’s minions. I knew if I sat down, I would follow Naomi’s lead. That was dangerous, so I stepped next to Grace’s crib, staring down at the perfect little angel.

Her eyes blinked open, like she knew she was being observed, and I smiled. A squeak came from her and instead of waking Naomi, I picked up the little bundle, nestling her in my arms and slowly rocked her.

The child’s eyes were a mix of blue and brown swirls that reminded me of my mother’s calico eyes and I sighed, crossing to the window as the sadness hit. Grace squealed, kicking at the blanket swaddling her and I lifted her to my shoulder, cuddling her soft cheek against mine.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Uncle CJ’s just a little sad.” I rubbed her back and she cooed once more before letting out a sigh and settling down with her head nestled against my neck. Her warmth wrapped around me, penetrating layers of despair and a flicker of hope lit in my soul.

I would gladly wipe hell off the map for the little trinity angel in my arms.