All In: Betting on a Full House (Gambling With Love) Read online

  "Yes! They're going wild in there. Here, try feeling right here," I told him, and moved his other hand over my protruding belly button.

  "I can feel it, like a soft poke," he said with a smile. "Mom, Dad, Jon! You guys won't believe it. I just felt our girls!"

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Two and a half months later

  Jess

  "Hey, Jonathan. How was school?" I asked when he walked through the front door Friday afternoon.

  "Same old, same old," he said, tossing his backpack down on the couch and heading for the kitchen. "Whatcha cooking?"

  "Homemade pizza. I've been craving black olives, like I could eat the whole freaking can. The girls have strange tastes lately."

  "I love homemade pizza," he said with a smile, before stealing a few pepperonis that I had to replace.

  "Any plans this weekend?" I asked him.

  "I've got a date," he said, and I saw him blush before he turned away.

  "A date? My little brother is growing up! Who is she?" I asked. This was the first time I'd ever heard him talk about a girl. "This is so exciting!”

  "She got into the early college next year too. Her name's Abigail, and we're going to see a movie."

  "Oh wow, that’s great-" I started saying as the front door flew open. Tyler was home early tonight, which was very unusual.

  My heart stopped when I looked up and realized it wasn't Tyler that’d just burst through the door. It was our father.

  No, no, I must be hallucinating, because that was impossible. He was still in jail awaiting trial. When the man of my nightmares didn't disappear, and was close enough that I could see his sneering expression, I was certain I wasn’t imagining him.

  "Wh-what are you doing here?" I forced myself to ask, as I inched backwards toward my cell phone laying on the kitchen counter.

  "You mean how did I get the fuck out of jail? My attorney got my bond reduced this morning and your mom posted my bail this morning. Then I waited patiently at the high school to follow my son's bus home," he said as he walked toward me, cracking his knuckles. "This is what you get for leaving your door unlocked. The world sure as hell isn't safe anymore. And now neither are you."

  Oh God. He was angry. Really angry. He'd been locked up in a crowded, shitty jail for almost four months because of me, and Jonathan and I had naively thought we were safe from him.

  I glanced over at Jon and he had his phone in his hand and had already dialed someone. I prayed it was 9-1-1 or Tyler. He was a smart kid, so I'm sure it was one of those two.

  With his advancing steps I was cornered in the kitchen with nowhere to go unless he moved. He wasn't going to move.

  Even though I hadn't laid eyes on him in five years he still looked the same. Tall with salt and pepper hair, dark soulless eyes, shaggy beard, and red flushed face from drinking. I could even smell the alcohol on him from a few feet away.

  "You're going to pay for this, you fucking whore. And how stupid are you to get knocked up?" he asked, looking at my large pregnant belly in disgust.

  "I-I'm married."

  "Yeah, the cop. I saw the news. Everyone saw you for the whore you are, suckering him into marrying you."

  "Tyler loves me."

  "What a lie. He’s going to end up miserable, if he sticks around that long. Having kids he never wanted. I know all about that."

  He was moving closer and I didn't know how much longer he'd only be talking.

  "You little bitch. Do you have any idea what I've been through sitting in a jail cell, day after day?" he asked. I laughed before I could stop myself.

  "I hope you've been through hell," I replied honestly and his palm slapped across my face so hard I stumbled against the kitchen counter.

  "Don't touch her!" Jonathan said moving in behind him.

  "Or what? What are you going to do, you little faggot?" he asked and I watched the color drain from Jonathan's face.

  "Don't listen to him Jon-" A harder slap across my face, and this time I tasted blood.

  "I'm going to do you a favor, one I should have done to your mother when she was pregnant with both of you. I bet you'll even thank me," he said. Grabbing my arms he held me against the counter as his knee came up hard into my side.

  "Please don't," I begged, trying to fight back and escape his grip. I never would’ve pleaded with him for my sake, but I couldn't let him hurt our girls.

  His harsh, calloused hand moved up and grabbed me around my throat, cutting off my oxygen before throwing me to the floor. I curled up in a ball when his foot shot out and nailed me in the arm where it protectively covered the side of my stomach.

  "Stop it!" I heard Jonathan yell. Then I heard a whomp which sounded like a punch landing.

  I pushed my upper body up with some difficulty and saw our dad standing over Jonathan where he laid on the floor. He kicked him several times before he bent down to hit him with alternating fists, over and over again.

  "Stop! You're pissed at me. He didn't turn you in, I did! I told them everything, you sick fuck!" That got his attention like I'd hoped, and he left Jonathan lying still in a heap on the floor.

  Crying out when he grabbed my hair was the last thing I remembered.

  …

  Tyler

  Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'd called into dispatch on my car radio and was waiting for a response while I freaked the hell out. I no longer heard Jess or Jonathan's voices on the other end of the phone line. All I heard was that bastard yelling and cursing.

  "What's your ten-twenty?" the dispatch operator finally asked. I had to clear my throat to ease up the tightening I felt growing with each second.

  "Fourteen-eleven West Market Street, Apartment 2C. Code three to available units. We need two eleven-forty-ones for a fifteen year old white male, and a … twenty-one year old ... preg-pregnant white female. Injuries unknown but both believed to be a code ten. The suspect is one Mike Dodson, a sex offender, violating a no contact order." I pushed the building panic aside to call for back-up and ambulances.

  I had my lights and sirens on as I sped through traffic, but no matter how fast I went I knew I couldn't get there soon enough. What if I'm too late? Oh God.

  "Unit ten-ten we have the first EMS with an ETA of two minutes, the second four. Officers are in route with ETA of four to five."

  Fuck! Two minutes might be too late for one or both of them. I didn't know if he had any weapons, but knew as big and angry he was, he could do plenty of damage without.

  I finally pulled into the complex and was out and running toward the steps with my gun out before the car stopped moving. And there he was. The motherfucker was coming down the steps covered in blood. I lunged at him, catching him off-guard and knocking him backwards. I pummeled his face until he didn’t fight back anymore.

  Pulling out my handcuffs, I locked one on his wrist and the other to the banister so I could get up the steps.

  The apartment door was shut but unlocked as I barged through it. I quickly swallowed the bile that threatened to choke me at the sight. I was torn, but I had to go to her first.

  I sank down to my knees beside her, afraid to touch her … anywhere, and do more damage. She was curled up on her side, with her arms around her stomach like she was trying to protect the babies. I reached for her pulse with a shaking hand, afraid of what I might not find.

  There was blood seeping out from her hair, nose and mouth, and she was so … still. But thank God she had a pulse. Faint, but it was definitely there. The first EMS team came rushing in through the open door.

  "Here!" I called to them, and my voice didn’t sound like my own.

  "Let us get to her," the man said and I backed away until I was kneeling beside where Jonathan laid in the living room floor.

  His eyelids fluttered like he was starting to come to. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not because of the pain he was probably in.

  "Jonathan? Can you hear me?" I asked. Again, I was afraid even the softest touch would hurt him. It was clear
he was in pain based on his grimace.

  "Is she okay? I'm sorry … door unlocked. Tried to … stop him."

  A sob escaped when I tried to speak and I had to try again. "I know you did. Where … where's it hurt the worst? Another ambulance is on the way."

  I looked back over and they were loading Jess up on the gurney to take her out.

  "Side. Breathing," he groaned. I looked over him and didn't know where to start. He was … a bloody, swollen mess.

  "Just hold on buddy, they'll get you to the hospital in no time, okay?"

  The second EMS team came in and I moved out of their way so they could get to him. "Jonathan, I'm going to ride with Jess, but I'll see you at the hospital okay?"

  "Okay. Go," he said.

  I ran out the door and down the steps, forgetting the son of a bitch was still cuffed there until I saw him again. The responding officers were finally pulling up. I called out to them his name, and to take him in and not let him go before a magistrate until they heard from me. Then I was in the back of the ambulance an instant before they closed the door and sped away.

  "How is she?" I asked the man sitting with her in the back.

  "Going to need a CT scan and ultrasound to know for sure. She's stable. Based on the head wound, a concussion is likely what's left her unconscious."

  I grabbed her hand and looked her over, my heart breaking more with every bump and bruise and drop of blood. Then I saw the profuse bleeding coming from her lower body.

  "She's bleeding. Are they okay? Is she … losing them?" I asked around the knot in my throat.

  "Them? It's twins?"

  "Yes. Is she losing them?" I placed my hand gently over her belly to feel the babies’ movement, praying they were going to be alright too.

  "I'm sorry. I don’t know. They'll have to examine her and monitor them at the hospital. How far along?"

  "Thirty, no thirty-one weeks."

  "That's good. After twenty-four weeks there's a seventy-five percent survival rate with early delivery, and that percentage increases each week thereafter."

  "They might have to be delivered?"

  "I don't know. I'm just telling you they've got a good chance if it comes to that."

  I pulled out my phone with a shaking hand and called Caleb.

  "Hey Ty, what's up?"

  "I need you and Lauren to get in the car and come to the hospital right now."

  "Oh shit! Is it the babies already?"

  I broke down as the reality of what was happening caught up to me. "It's all of them. My entire fucking family."

  "What do you mean? What happened?"

  "I'm with Jess and I need someone to be there with Jonathan."

  "Tyler, what's going on? Were they in a wreck?"

  "No. That son of a bitch got out. He found them and … it's bad Caleb."

  "Oh God. We're on the way."

  "I'm his legal guardian now, so find me or call me if they need me to give them any authorizations. I'll look for him once I know more about what's going on with Jess."

  "I bet she's a mess worried about the babies and Jonathan."

  "She's … she's unconscious, and there are so many injuries we won't even know what the worst is or how the babies are until they do some tests."

  "Oh fuck. I'm sorry Tyler. We're on our way."

  "Thanks...and will you call my parents?"

  "Of course. I've got all their numbers. I'll let Lauren drive and I'll call them. Take care, Ty."

  We'd made it to the ER and the EMS technicians rushed Jess in and straight to the OR.

  I grabbed one of the nurses that was running around.

  "What's going? Why is she going into surgery?"

  "Are you her husband?"

  "Yes, goddamn it! What the hell is going on?"

  "I’m sorry Officer, but this is standard for blunt abdominal trauma during pregnancy. We may have to deliver to save her, and I'm sorry, but if it's too late for her, we'll deliver the babies and try to save them."

  "W-what do you mean? She might not make it? Why wouldn't she?"

  "Sir, we can't know that yet. If you'll head to the waiting room a nurse or doctor will call you as soon as they learn more, or if any decisions need to be made."

  "Decisions?"

  "I'm sorry but I have to go, and you're not allowed in there," then she was gone and I was standing in the hall still in shock.

  I needed to find Jonathan, but I didn't want to leave Jess in case they called with updates or needed … decisions. Someone came and took me down to the surgical waiting room. I sat there in a daze until I saw Lauren and Caleb, then I was out of my seat.

  "Where's Jonathan? How is he?" I asked.

  "He’s got a broken rib. They took him in to surgery to fix his ruptured lung and check to make sure there aren't any other internal injuries. They didn't need your permission since it had to be done. How's Jess and the babies?" Caleb asked.

  "I don't know. They won't tell me a goddamn thing. Only that they may have to get the babies out to save her, or … try and save the babies if she doesn't …"

  "Oh no," Lauren cried and put her arms around me.

  "I might lose them all. I can't … that fucking bastard," I sobbed against her.

  The three of us sat down and waited an hour in silence. It felt more like it'd been year when I finally heard, "Family of Jessica Evans, the surgeon is on line three," over the intercom. I ran to pick up the waiting room phone.

  "This is her husband. How is she?"

  "Mrs. Evans is stable, but unfortunately there is some swelling on her brain. We'll just have to wait and see if any permanent damage has been done. One of the twins was in distress, so we had to deliver them via C-secion. They're both in the NICU on the second floor if you want to check on them. Girl A weighs three pounds, eleven ounces, and girl B weighs two pounds, fourteen ounces. They seemed to be doing fairly well at delivery, but I don’t have any updates on their current condition. We've done all we can for your wife. Now we just have to wait."

  "Wait? For how long? Is she going to be okay?"

  "Brain swelling is serious. I'm sorry to tell you that it can sometimes be fatal. We have no way to know at this point, so let's hope for the best. The next twenty-four hours are critical. If the swelling hasn't significantly decreased by tomorrow at this time … well, that would make us less optimistic."

  "Oh God," I mumbled, unwilling to think about anything but her being okay. "When can I see her?"

  "We'll be moving her to the ICU, and you should be able to come in to see her in about an hour."

  "An hour?"

  "Yes. Why don't you go up and check on your babies and hopefully by then they'll have her in a room."

  "Okay. Thank you."

  "You're welcome, and I'm sorry Mr. Evans."

  "What did they say?" Lauren asked as soon as I hung the phone up.

  "Jess has some brain swelling which is bad, and can be … we have to just wait. The girls are ... they're upstairs in the NICU."

  "They delivered? They're only what, thirty weeks?"

  "Thirty-one and a day. They had to deliver. He said one was in distress. They weigh three pounds, eleven ounces and two pounds and fourteen ounces."

  "Oh my God. Caleb will you stay here to see if we get updates on Jonathan and I'll go with Tyler to find the babies?"

  "Sure, go. I'll call you if I hear anything."

  "Thanks. I don't even know where the stairs are or the elevator is," I mumbled, feeling like I was in a fog.

  "Come on, we'll find it," Lauren said, pulling me along.

  We got up to the second floor and had to ask for NICU. After letting us in, we scrubbed up and then they took us to the two bassinets. My daughters, although you could barely see them. They were wrapped in pink and white blankets that still only made them the size of my hand, with only their tiny faces were showing. Even most of their faces were covered in cords, and there were more cords going up underneath the blankets hooked to various machines.

&
nbsp; "They're too small."

  "We've seen smaller. These two are as healthy as they could be for thirty-one weeks," the nurse with them responded.

  "How are they?" I asked her.

  "The smaller one is having a tougher time, but they both seem to be doing well so far. It'll be a long road but we'll do everything we can for them to grow and thrive. When your wife's able to pump breast milk for them they'll probably do even better."

  If she'll ever able to do that for them or anything else again, I thought, feeling the wetness on my face. "She's in the OR recovering until they move her to the ICU."

  "Oh no. An accident, not preterm labor?"

  "Something like that." If a bastard beating the shit out of her and Jonathan could be called an accident.

  My phone rang and I jumped, startled out of my thoughts.

  "Caleb?"

  "Jon's out of surgery and all fixed up. He'll be in recovery an hour or so then they'll take him to a regular room. They said he's doing great."

  I blew out all my breath. "Thank God."

  "Your parents just walked in, do you want me to send them up?"

  "Yes, thanks. Will you call when they give you a room number for him or one for Jess?"

  "Of course. How are the babies?"

  "Beautiful and tiny. Smaller than tiny, but they say so far so good."

  "Good. I'll let you know what I hear."

  "Thanks."

  "Jonathan's out of surgery and doing good. He'll be in a regular room soon," I relayed to Lauren.

  "I'm so sorry Tyler. I know you feel like you have three places to be in at once," Lauren said.

  "Yeah. If you and Caleb will stay with Jonathan, I'll get my parents to stay here so I can ..."

  "Be with Jess."

  "Yeah."

  "Do you want to hold them?" the nurse asked and I looked at her like she was crazy.

  "They're too small."

  "Physical contact is good for them. So is hearing voices they are familiar with. Here, sit down and unbutton you shirt. Skin to skin contact is preferred," she nodded toward the rocking chair, and I sat and undid all the buttons of my uniform with shaky hands.