Cella frowned. “Against the Minnesota team?”

“Huh?” She shook her head. “No, no. Against his foster mother or something?” She leaned in and whispered, “He’s an orphan?”

“He is, baby, but he handles it really well.”

“Not right now. He’s really mad about what happened to you, Aunt C.” Not surprising, really, if Baissier did have something to do with all this. Then again, Cella felt like she’d gotten off lucky. Fact was, if Baissier wanted Cella out of the way, she could have had Cella shot in the head while she was walking to the Sports Center. That was how KZS would have handled it.

“Where is he?”

“Meghan’s bringing him in, but she wanted me to warn you first.”

“Warn me?”

“You can’t let him.”

“I can’t?” Cella asked, enjoying this, probably because she was high, but Jai slapped her shoulder anyway. “Ow!”

The door opened again and Meghan walked in, Crush behind her. At first, Cella smiled because it looked kind of comical. Her too-skinny, barely six-foot, very clean-cut daughter followed by a six-nine, three-hundred-pound cop wearing a black Black Sabbath T-shirt, and looking like he’d just been released from prison. Thankfully, he hadn’t. Her daughter was perfectly safe. And realizing that made Cella’s smile a little wider. She might be high, but she knew she trusted the bear. He cared, which meant little Josie was right. Crush would take the blame for this on his giant, bear shoulders. He shouldn’t. None of this was his fault; this was just the world they all lived in. The cruel heartless games that they—the Group, KZS, BPC—all played. It really wasn’t something he could control or manage and getting into it with someone like Peg Baissier would do nothing but get him seriously hurt.

And Cella cared! She cared if the bear got hurt. She cared if he was upset about all this. That made her smile even more. It was nice to care about someone who wasn’t related by blood or the fact that they were pregnant the same time Cella was.

Frowning, Crush looked up, but when he saw her, he stopped, his hand on the door, his gaze on her, a small smile spreading across his face. And they stayed like that for a bit, both of them smiling at each other.

She was bruised and battered from the hockey game, her left leg in a brace that held it immobile, an IV attached to her arm, her black hair haphazardly piled on top of her head by a rubber band—but she was sitting up in bed and smiling.

God, she’s beautiful.

Someone cleared their throat and Crush blinked, remembering they weren’t alone.

“All right,” Dr. Davis said while fluffing up Cella’s pillow. “I’m going to take these two home.”

“I’m not leaving Mom, Aunt J.,” Meghansaid.

“Yes, you are.” Cella nodded at her daughter. “If you don’t go home that means my mother will come back. Please don’t do that to me. The mother you love. I can’t take any more of the sobbing.”

“What if you need something?”

“That’s what a nursing staff is for.” Dr. Davis pulled the pillow out from under Cella’s head. “They’ll take excellent care of her.” She fluffed up the pillow again. “That’s what they’re trained to do.” Then she put the pillow over Cella’s face, pushing her back into the bed.

The two teenagers rolled their eyes, disgusted by their mothers.

“Mo-om,” Dr. Davis’s daughter whined.

Laughing, Dr. Davis pulled back, holding up that pillow. “I was just trying to help her get to sleep.”

Cella slapped at her friend’s arms. “You’re an idiot. Go.” She waved both girls away. “Go home. I’ll be here in the morning.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, Ma.”

“I’ll stay.” Crush stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I won’t sleep anyway, so I might as well.”

“Well, if Ma’s okay with—”

“I am. Bye-bye.” Cella waved them toward the door. “See ya!”

Crush stood back while the two girls kissed Cella good-bye.

“Do not move that leg,” Dr. Davis warned her.

“I won’t.”

The doctor kissed her friend on the cheek and headed toward the door. As she neared Crush, he whispered, “Is she—”

“As a kite. So good luck to ya.” She winked and walked out, the door quietly closing behind her.

The room was quiet and Crush stood there, staring at her until Cella warned, “Do not say you’re sorry.”

“Can I think it?”

“No. Trust me. I’m sure there will be lots of things that you’ll need to apologize for as we go along ... but this isn’t one of them.”

“I should have—”

“You’re going to make me roar. And once I start roaring, I don’t really like to stop.” Cella rubbed her eyes. “You know what I don’t want to do? Sit around and talk and analyze and, ya know, think.”

“Okay. What do you want to do?”

“Play cuddle-bear.”

Crush scratched his jaw to stop from laughing. “Cuddle-bear? And what’s that?”

“That’s where my bear cuddles me and tells me that I’m very pretty.”

He nodded. “I think he can handle that.” He took a step toward the bed.

“Naked cuddle-bear.”