Capturing Peace

Chapter Ten

Reagan—­October 27, 2010

I FLASHED A grateful smile at the secretary as she came in to hand me a stack of papers, and continued talking to one of our bigger clients.

“I just sent it over to you; let me know what you think.”

As I waited for his response, I flipped quickly through the requests before putting them in the inbox.

“Now, it’s a little different from the style you usually go for, but I really think—­”

“Love it!”

I smiled and tried to contain the relief in my voice. “I’m glad.”

“I love this modern twist you put on it.”

“All right, well, make sure it all looks good, and if it does, I’ll put the order in.”

“No changes, I’m happy with this one, whoever had the balls to change it up on me deserves a raise.”

Smiling to myself, I wished my boss could’ve been in here for this call. “Okay. I’ll put the order in right . . . now.” I trailed off as my cell phone vibrated with Parker’s school on the ID. Fear gripped at my chest and I hurried to get off the phone. “Have a good rest of your week, Mr. Walton.”

“Bye now.”

“Hello?” I answered my cell as I hung up the office phone, and held my breath.

“Miss Hudson?”

“Yes.” Please, God, please let Parker just be in trouble.

“This is Assistant Principal Reese from Parker’s elementary school.”

“Hi, is everything okay?”

“Ma’am, we had to call an ambulance to take Parker to the hos—­”

“What?!” I yelled into the phone and stood so fast my desk chair rolled back until it hit the wall.

“They just loaded him up and left a few minutes ago.”

I gripped at my head and spun in a tight circle as I tried to think of what I had to do. “Aren’t you—­aren’t you supposed to call me before you just take him to the hospital?”

“He fell off the gym set during the lunch recess and was knocked unconscious, he still hadn’t woken up by the time the ambulance left.”

I stopped spinning abruptly and my entire body trembled as I reached blindly for my chair. “W-­what? He . . . are you sure it was Parker?”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry to have to be the one to call you. But are you able to go to the hospital, or have another family member meet them there?”

“Is he okay? He’s going to be okay right?” I don’t know how I’d ended up on the floor, but I couldn’t figure out how to get back up. I wasn’t seeing anything other than Parker.

The man was silent for a few seconds. “It was a pretty bad fall, Miss Hudson. You should probably get to the hospital. Maybe have someone drive you.”

Why wasn’t he telling me if Parker would be okay or not? Why was he talking like he wouldn’t be? Fat tears quickly fell down my cheeks, and my head jerked to the right when my boss touched my shoulder.

“I’m going,” I said into the phone before ending the call and letting my boss help me stand.

“What happened? I heard you—­”

“P-­parker was rushed—­” I cut off on a sob, and pressed down onto Coen’s name on my phone. “I have to go.”

He just nodded and stepped back as I frantically searched for my purse.

I took off running down the hall and out of the building as Coen’s voice mail picked up. Ending the call only to call him again, I begged for him to answer.

Just before I ended the call again, he answered. “Hey, Ray, I’m in the middle of a shoot.” He must have heard my sobs because he quickly asked, “Babe, what’s wrong?” Panic filled his tone.

“Parker’s school called! They said—­they said he fell off something on the playground and was unconscious.” Another sob burst from my chest as I cranked the engine on my car and pulled out of the parking spot. “He was taken to the hospital by ambulance, he still wasn’t waking up by the time they left. He said it was bad, Coen, he couldn’t even tell me he was going to be okay!”

Coen’s ragged breaths filled the phone. “What? No . . . no.”

I choked on my tears, and the sound must have finally broken through Coen’s denial.

“Oh my God. I’m on my way.”

“Coen, tell me he’s going to be okay,” I pleaded.

“He’s going to be fine, Reagan. He’s going to be fine. Babe, you shouldn’t be driving. Pull over, let me pick you up.”

“No!” I yelled. “I can’t sit here and do nothing, I need to get to him. I have to go!”

“Damn it!” he gritted, but I knew by his tone that he’d acknowledged I wouldn’t be waiting for him. “Reagan Hudson, listen to me. Keep yourself safe. I’m on my way and I’ll meet you there.”

I nodded and whispered some sort of good-­bye before ending the call and calling my mom. The entire time I prayed Parker would be okay.

Coen—­October 27, 2010

I PARKED IN the first spot I found, and didn’t even bother to check if it was a handicap space or not. I didn’t fucking care. They could tow my car if they wanted. I’d already run out on a client after barely telling him why I was leaving, and gone over double the speed limit the entire way . . . a goddamn handicap space wasn’t going to stop me from getting in that hospital.

Running into the ER, I looked around the waiting room and rushed to the window when I didn’t see Reagan or anyone from her family. “Parker Hudson.”

The lady looked at me like I’d just ruined her day before sighing. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Parker Hudson, he was brought in here by ambulance not long ago. Where is he?” Adrenaline was coursing through my body, and I was five seconds from breaking through the locked doors and finding him myself. I didn’t know if Reagan had made it here okay, I didn’t know if Parker was awake yet . . . I was flipping the fuck out.

Recognition hit her eyes. “His mother just came through here. You can wait out here for now, it’s only family allowed back there.”

I slammed my hand on the counter. “And he’s my son, where the fuck is he?!”

The security guard I’d passed when I entered the ER walked up behind me. “Sir, I suggest you calm down.”

Looking over my shoulder, I narrowed my eyes at him until he took a step back before looking back at the woman behind the window. “Lady, do not keep me from them right now,” I said darkly. “Not after the phone call I just received. They need me, and I need to be back there. Now tell me. Where. Is. He.”

She forcefully swallowed and straightened. “Room thirteen.”

Pushing away from the counter, I walked quickly over to the doors and waited until I heard the beep before pulling them open and jogging through the crowded halls. Turning a corner, I saw a flag over a door with the number thirteen on it, and quickened my steps. Stepping in, I came to a stop when I saw Reagan talking with a doctor, and just past them was Parker, hooked up to too many machines.

I’d seen some of the worst things anyone could witness in this world—­and, granted, I couldn’t sleep from it—­but seeing Parker lying in that bed was enough to make my knees go weak and all the air leave my lungs.

A short cry burst past Reagan’s lips, and she launched herself into my arms.

“I’m here, baby,” I managed to choke out as I pressed my lips to her head. “I’m here.” Looking up at the doctor, I took a deep breath and steeled myself. It didn’t matter how much it killed me to see Reagan break down, or to see Parker in that bed, they needed someone strong right now. “How is he?”

“Coen?” Parker mumbled, and I squeezed Reagan tighter to me. When she didn’t react to it, I waited for the doctor to speak.

The doctor assessed the position I was in with Reagan, and figured it was fine to talk. “Good news is that even though there seemed to be a lot of blood, it was only because it was a head injury. The cut isn’t big enough to require stitches even. We’re waiting on the techs to come and take him back for X-­rays so we can make sure there’s no major swelling or any cracks on his skull. I don’t know how much you know, but he was unconscious for a bit there. He’s awake, but he feels nauseous and the lights are bothering him, so he’s keeping his eyes closed. Typical of a concussion.” He closed the folder and looked at me. “Do you have any questions?”

“Ray?” I asked quietly. When she shook her head, I moved us away from the door. “No.”

“All right then, I’ll be back once I have the scans. Techs should be in here any minute to take him back.”

“Thank you.”

I waited until he was out of the room and had shut the door before kissing the top of Reagan’s head again, and pulling back. “You okay?”

Tears were still streaming down her face, but she nodded. “Yeah.”

I tried to smile for her, but I wasn’t sure if she bought it. “See? He’s going to be fine. He’s tough. Aren’t you, bud?” I asked as I walked us closer to the bed and grabbed the hand that only had one wire coming off it.

“Because I eat my food,” Parker slurred.

If he didn’t currently look like shit, I would have laughed. “That’s right. Because you eat your food.”

“Were my parents or brother here yet?” Reagan asked softly.

“No, do you want me to go check?”

She gripped the hand she was still holding harder. “Don’t leave,” she begged. Sitting carefully on the side of the bed, she cupped Parker’s cheek. “How do you feel, honey?”

“Not good.”

A pained smile tugged at her lips. “I’m sorry. I wish I could make it go away.”

Parker nodded once just as the door opened, and the X-­ray technicians walked in. After explaining what they would be doing, and getting ready to take Parker away, he started screaming.

“No! Please, Mommy, don’t go!”

“I’m not going anywhere, honey, stop screaming. You’re going to make it hurt worse.”

“Don’t make me go!”

Reagan looked at me helplessly before looking at the techs.

“One of you can come with him, but you’ll have to stand outside the room,” one of the techs said. “Parker, will you be okay if your mom comes and stands outside the room?”

He groaned, but nodded.

I squeezed her hand before releasing her. “I’ll go check to see if your brother’s here yet.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed, and followed them out of the room.

Walking back through the confusing halls, I made it out to the waiting room, and didn’t even have time to look for them before all three said my name. Glancing to my left, I walked toward where they were standing from their chairs, and hugged Mrs. Hudson.

“Is he okay?” Keegan asked.

“He’s doing fine. A little sick, scared, probably in pain. He doesn’t need stitches. They took him back for some X-­rays to make sure he didn’t crack his skull and to see if there’s swelling. Reagan went with him.”

The three let out a collective, relieved breath. “So, he’s awake?” Mr. Hudson asked.

“Yeah, he’d already woken up by the time I got here.”

“Speaking of . . .” Keegan trailed off and raised an eyebrow at me.

I shot him a confused look. “What?”

He cleared his throat and jerked his chin toward the check-­in desk behind me. “When Mom and I got here and asked about Parker, the receptionist didn’t seem thrilled that more of his family was here. Told us to be assured Parker’s parents were with him, and one of them would let us know how Parker was doing. Then she started grumbling about Parker’s dad almost getting himself thrown out of the hospital for the way he acted.”

“She wouldn’t tell me where he—­” I paused, and jerked my head back. “Dad?”

“That’s what we said, she look really nervous. Said you claimed Parker was your son, and then she began describing you at the same time she called security over, probably to have him hunt you down. But when she described you . . . we told her she was correct.”

I stood there, not seeing anything as I thought back to my conversation with the woman behind the window. Looking over my shoulder at her, air wheezed out of my lungs. “And he’s my son . . .” Facing Reagan’s family again, my face fell. “Oh my God,” I muttered, and shakily walked over to one of the chairs.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she took the chair next to me.

I stared down at the tile below me and just focused on pulling air into my body.

“Steele.” I looked up to find Keegan smirking. “You doin’ okay there?”

“I hadn’t even realized . . .” I trailed off and shook my head.

His smirk morphed into a full-­blown smile. “I can see that.”

I barely glanced at Mrs. Hudson to see her smiling at me with her eyes watering, before looking back at the floor. I stayed like that for minutes as I tried to figure out what had happened, and how I couldn’t have even realized what I’d been saying. I wanted to say it was because I was scared, or because I knew Reagan needed me, and the lady hadn’t been about to let me back there . . . but that wasn’t it. It hadn’t been a calculated response; it’d just been the first thing that left my lips when she tried to keep me from Parker. My Parker.

“I need to get back there,” I said suddenly, and stood. Looking at the three of them, I tried not to notice how differently they were all watching me now. Like they knew what I’d just come to realize, and were happy.

I was happy. I was also scared as shit.

“I’ll let you know what the doctor says.” Turning, I walked back to the doors and waited for them to let me through.

Reagan’s soft voice drifted out of the room, so I stopped before I got to the doorway. Taking deep breaths in, I ran my hands over my face, and hoped like hell that she wouldn’t notice a difference in me.

“Hey.” She smiled. “I’m guessing they’re out there?”

“Yeah, sorry it took me so long to get back.”

She waved off the apology and looked at Parker. “Please don’t be sorry. Do you mind sitting in here with him while I go talk to my parents really quick?”

As long as they didn’t tell her what I’d said. “Go for it.”

“Okay, they light is still bothering him, but he needs to stay awake.” Reagan leaned up on her toes to kiss me. “Thank you for getting here so fast, Coen. I—­as soon as I got the call, I just knew I needed you. So, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Reagan.” I cradled her face in my hands and kissed her once more. “I love you. I’m always here when you need me.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, and sent me a longing glance before walking out of the room.

Grabbing the chair and moving it closer to the bed, I sat down and looked up at the beeping monitors.

“Hey, Coen?”

“Yeah, bud?” I asked, glancing down to Parker.

“Don’t tell Mom, ’kay?”

I bent forward to rest my elbows on the side of his bed. “Don’t tell her what?”

“When I woke up here, I was scared because I couldn’t find you.”

My chest tightened and a lump formed in my throat. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, bud.”

“Mom wasn’t here either, but I looked for you.” His words were starting to slur, and I didn’t know if this was just talk because of the concussion, or if he’d actually been scared because I hadn’t been here.

Grabbing the hand closest to me, I squeezed it gently, and looked at his drooping eyes. “I’m here now.”

He nodded slowly and blinked heavily before widening his eyes at me. “Love you, Coen.”

Thank God I was in a hospital, because I’m pretty sure my heart had just failed. Everything in me seized up, and my heart stuttered after missing a few beats before taking off quickly. The lump in my throat grew, and I couldn’t get it to go away. He loved me. I’d called him my son without realizing it. My Parker.

“I love you too, Parker,” I choked out.

All of the adrenaline from the fear of him not waking up, trying to be strong for Reagan—­even if only for a little while—­and all the emotions that had been coursing through my body in just the last ten minutes were suddenly too much. Dropping my head onto the mattress, I let myself cry for the first time in two and a half years.

Reagan—­October 27, 2010

I STOOD IN the doorway of Parker’s room late that night, and watched as Coen lowered him onto his bed before tucking him under the covers. In the three and a half weeks since we’d started letting Parker know that Coen was staying the night, Coen hadn’t once put him in bed, or woken him up—­and I’m pretty sure it just became my favorite sight in the entire world.

Coen bent down low, placing his hand on the top of Parker’s head, and whispered something against it, too low for me to hear.

Never mind. That was my favorite sight.

Straightening up, he gave Parker one last look before walking over to where I was waiting on him. I tried to contain the ridiculous smile I knew must have been plastered on my face, but there was no way to. I was so in love with him. I loved the way he loved me, and I loved the way he loved my son.

Letting my fingers trail down his forearm, I pushed away from the doorway and walked over to the bed. Pressing my lips to Parker’s temple, I brushed back some of his blond hair and tried to remember him just like this. There’d been no crack on his skull, and no major swelling; the doctor had told us he’d been incredibly lucky. And I was so thankful for whoever was looking over my son.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whispered. “I love you, baby.”

With one last kiss to his forehead, I stood and walked into Coen’s waiting arms. I inhaled sharply when he grabbed the backs of my thighs and pulled me up, but quickly wrapped my hands around his neck, and legs around his hips.

His dark eyes stayed locked on mine as he walked us out of Parker’s bedroom and into mine—­leaving both doors open. Letting me slide down his body, his fingers went to my pants, but there was no heat in his dark eyes tonight. I stepped out of them when they pooled at my feet, and raised my arms when he began pulling my shirt over my head. Leaving my camisole on, he reached inside to unhook my bra, and worked it off before dropping it on the floor as well. Taking a step away from me, he took off his jeans and shirt, leaving himself in only his boxer briefs, and reached for my hand. He brushed his lips slowly across mine while his eyes still held mine captive—­and in them I saw everything I was feeling being reflected back on me. The fear, the craving, the love, the trust.

Walking to the bed, he turned off the lamp, flipped back the covers, and slid in before pulling me in with him. Curling his body around mine, he pressed his lips to my shoulder as the arm under me moved so his hand was flat against my stomach, and the other moved until it was over my heart.

No words, and yet he’d said so much. So much that I agreed with wholeheartedly.

I was his.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

And I was so in love with him too.