Page 69 of The Crowing of Hell
Brax curled in close to me.
“Hey, it’s okay, honey,” I said, drawing him in closer.
“Could I see him?” Brax mumbled, looking up atSarah.
“Would you like to hold him?” Rooster asked, his voice thick from sleep.
“Can I?” Brax replied.
“Come, sit here, and remove your top. Link likes to feel skin-to-skin contact and gets tetchy when he doesn’t get it,” Rooster said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
Brax seemed unsure, but I gave him a little shove forward, and he walked over and sat in the armchair next to Rooster. He yanked his t-shirt off and peered at Sarah as she picked Link up and placed him on Brax’s chest. Link immediately let out a weak wail before nuzzling in. Brax’s eyes widened before he looked at Link in wonder.
“Holy crap, Dad, he is so tiny,” Brax murmured.
“He’ll grow, he’s a Wilson,” Rooster replied without a hint of doubt.
At that moment, I was certain that Link would make it. Because Rooster wouldn’t allow anything otherwise. Rooster would fight to the death to save his boy. I had total belief in Rooster.
“Look at that; he knows his big brother,” I said as Link settled against Brax and calmed down. Sarah placed a little blue blanket over him to keep him warm, and I smiled at the small beanie he was wearing.
“Link’s put on an ounce,” Sarah announced, and Rooster nodded proudly.
“Wow, that’s my son!” I exclaimed, reaching out and touching his tiny fingers.
Link made a snorting noise, one so soft you had to be listening to hear it.
“How’s he doing?” I asked Sarah as we stepped to the side.
“He is a very sick little boy. We’re doing everything we can, and he’s being closely monitored. I hear there’s talk of flying in a specialist. To be honest? Doctor Wainscott is great and, in my opinion, one of the best. He’ll fight for Link even when Link can’t do it for himself. But he won’t let Link suffer needlessly. If he thinks it’s time, Doctor Wainscott will inform you.
“But all that aside, we’re all surprised at how he’s fighting. Link is poorly, but he isn’t giving up. And I think Rooster is holding him here by sheer willpower. He’s been a hit with the nurses,” Sarah teased.
“Rooster, or the food his brothers bring, is the hit?” I asked.
Once they’d known Link had been born, Hellfire had descended, not realising how sick Link was. Once she understood, Clio had drawn up a rota with either one couple or a brother to attend two hours, so Rooster wasn’t alone. I’d clawed four hours this morning to bring the boys upsetting Tiny and Chatter, who bitched at missing their turn.
Clio had waded in and simply set the rota back so Tiny would arrive as we left. Despite the seriousness of the situation, it had made me smile. It was even worse because Rooster had forbidden anyone from purchasing anything, yet apart from a teddy bear from the boys. Also, a soft blue blanket from me and him.
I understood Rooster’s thinking. We did not want stuff being bought, and then Link died. It would be awful to live with the reminder. No. Rooster had done right, despite Clio and Phoenix arguing with him. Link did not have a high survival rate, but every minute that passed, he grew stronger, and that mattered.
Brax sat dead still for forty-five minutes, telling Link his plans for them both. Then Kit and Finn had their turn before I did. I promised Rooster to return tonight once I’d settled the kids before I took them to the park to let off some steam. Their emotions were all over the place, and I knew they needed to release them.
As I drove home, I noticed a grey vehicle following us.
A frisson of fear hit my stomach, and I glanced at the boys. They were squabbling, which was a good thing, and I grabbed my phone. Just as I punched the button to call for help, the car lost all power. Puzzled, I squealed and steered the motor to the side of the road, where it was safer.
“What happened?” Kit demanded.
“Stay in the car and lock the windows. Do you have your phones?” I asked.
“Kenny, what’s wrong?” Finn questioned.
In the mirror, I saw the grey car pull up behind me, and a guy got out.
“Shit!” I cursed and tried starting the engine. It ticked over but didn’t start. A knock at the window made me peer up.
A guy, about fiftyish, with a receding hairline, peered down at me and smiled.