Chapter 82

I smell it before I really think about why Mia is likely so upset. It’s thunder storming, Neil’s driving crazy, it’s late and she’s still up and outside. She has any number of reasons to be crying.

But that smell.

Yeah, that’s definitely poop. And it is pungent.

Even in the dark car, lit only by the lights of the dash and the occasional street or headlight, I can see the way Neil’s face pales as once, as white as the moon.

“You aren’t about to pass out, are you? Gods, at least, pull over.”

He doesn’t answer me. He must be holding his breath.

For sure, we are all about to die.

“It’s just poop smell.” Sure, it sucks bad, but babies poop.

We’re on the highway, so he can’t exactly pull over with any kind of ease. He makes no motion to, anyway.

“If you pull over, I can change her diaper.” I’ll be soaked, but it’s better than being dead.

I’m not sure how long Neil can hold his breath, but he’s likely running out of air by now. If he passes out, and the car swerves out of control, and I die a horrible, grizzly death, I’m definitely coming back and haunting someone.

Fortunately, Neil takes a breath. His face shifts from white to green. He rolls down his window. Rainwater immediately pours in.

Mia starts crying harder.

“You’re getting Mia all wet!” I shout.

Begrudgingly, Neil brings the window back up, but still leaves it open a crack. He shifts his face closer to the crack.

“This is your fault,” Neil snaps, and he should be talking to himself but I know he’s talking to me. These asshole brothers are always sniping at me when not everything goes their way. Neil’s supposed to be the responsible one, but even he has trouble accepting his own blame sometimes.

Like right now.

“If you hadn’t distracted me, we could have been keeping a better eye on Mia,” he says.

“Keeping an eye on her wouldn’t make her puke or poop less.” I probably should keep my mouth shut, especially when Neil’s driving this murder box like he’s about to kill us, but well, I was never one for self-preservation.

“We could have been better prepared,” Neil says. He’s squeezing that steering wheel like he wants to choke the life out of it. I’m a little worried it’s about to pop off the console.

“You can’t prepare for things like this.”

“Maybe you can’t.”

He nearly misses the exit, the signs basically invisible in the storm, so he swerves at the last minute. I hold onto the handle. Mia screams her little lungs out. The poop smell continues to overpower everything else.

Eventually, by some blessed miracle, we reach the hospital. Neil pulls the car straight up to the ER, where only ambulances are allowed to go. I hop out as soon as he’s stopped, happy to have both feet on solid, unmoving ground.

I move to the backseat and undo Mia’s buckles.

“You are an asshole, Neil,” I snap at him from where he’s still sitting in the driver’s seat. “You think you know everything and can control everything, but you are full of shit. Life is chaos. You can’t hide from that, no matter how hard you hope you have your shit together.”

With her buckles free, I scoop Mia up into my arms. When I step away from the car, I slam the door closed behind me.

I’ll likely face fallout later for my little tirade now, but it feels so good to throw it all back at Neil that it might be worth whatever comes next.

Mia’s still crying but she lowers the wails a few decibels when we walk into the emergency room. I go to the check in counter. The woman there is typing on her computer. In the reflection of the window behind her, I can see she’s on a social media site, not something work related.

“Excuse me,” I say.

“You have to wait.” She doesn’t look up. “I’m busy.”

“I have a sick baby,” I say. I shuffle Mia to the other side, closer to the woman’s line of vision. “She needs to see a doctor.”

“Everyone needs to see a doctor,” the woman says. “You have to wait until I’m ready for you to be seen.”

Neil’s not going to like that answer. And he’s going to act like it’s my fault.

“She’s just a baby. She really needs to be checked –”

“Ma’am.” The woman raises her voice. She finally stops typing to actually look at me, and she seems really pissed about it. “Which one of us works in an ER? Me, or you? No one cares about your loud, putrid little offspring. If I tell you that you have to wait, then you have to –”

“We are not waiting.”

The woman immediately straightens. “Mr. Hayes, sir. I-I didn’t realize…” Her eyes go wide. Her piss poor attitude vanishes like it had never been there at all.

“Now you realize,” Neil snaps as he comes to stand beside me at the counter.

“My apologies, sir. Let me call someone for you right away.” She looks back at the computer and types with a pace faster than before. Soon, a doctor herself comes out to escort us back.

“This must be Mia,” she says, glancing at Mia in my arms. The doctor offers to take Mia from me. I glance at Neil for permission, not terribly willing to hand Mia off to a stranger, even one in a white coat. But when Neil stiffly nods, I hand her over.

Honestly, I’m a bit in awe over the power of the Hayes name. Who knows how long Mia and I would have had to wait without his presence? That woman at the counter was so rude, she might not have added us to the list to be seen at all.

One look at Neil and she changed her tune 100%.

The Hayes name is powerful, no doubt, but it would be unfair to fully attribute everything about Neil to the name alone. He alone is a man who exudes authority and control.

He can be kind, sure. But when he’s in his controlling mood, and he walks into the room, it’s like the air goes out of it.

I know. I’ve felt it first hand.

I’ve been at the mercy of Neil’s control. It scares me some, but turns me on too.

I want to see more of it.

I shake my head now though. He have more important concerns here.

Mia’s health.

The doctor checks her over. The nurse helps me change Mia, while some tests are run. Then we wait patiently in a private room for the results.

Mia’s tired but seems otherwise in good spirits, especially with a clean diaper now. She even giggles when I tickle her.

Neil’s standing beside me, tense as a statue.

Only when the doctor comes in and says, “Everything’s fine,” does he exhale a breath.

“We’ve run all types of precautionary tests,” the doctor says, “But Mia’s results have all come back negative. I have a print out here of common reasons for infant vomiting. But remember that it’s good to be cautious. I’m glad that you brought Mia in. And if you are ever concerned in the future, please don’t hesitate to return.”

The doctor escorts us out of the ER. When we walk through the waiting room, the rude woman ducks behind the counter.

Someone has moved Neil’s car to the parking lot. They give him the keys now and directions on where it is, as well as a validated ticket for the gate.

Neil is quiet the entire walk to the car. Only after I get Mia settled in the backseat and join him in the front of the car, does he finally look at me.

It’s a cold, emotionless glare that freezes my heart inside of my chest.

It can’t get worse than this.

But then he speaks.

“You will never question me again.”