DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

edges my vision of my best friend, and I try to breathe through my mouth.

“Mills…” My jaw trembles because I can’t control how scared I am.

I did all this wrong.

If something happens to me, I never got to tell Bishop how much I love him.

“I’m here,” Mills quickly asserts. “I’m here, Ems.”

“Don’t tell anyone…I’m here. Throw me under a fake name.”

“I did.” He bobs his head up and down. “You told me to do that in the car when I drove you here.”

I don’t remember that either, but I’m glad my half-unconscious self is still competent in making somewhat good decisions.

“I need to die.”

“The fuck? What are you talking about? Emmy, stop—“

“Alexander, he can’t find out I’m still alive. Call Lucien.”

“Ems, what happened?” The babies begin to kick more furiously now, and my anxiety begins to surface.

If I lose them because of Alexander, I’ll never forgive myself. I don’t know if I can handle the loss of the two little things inside me because I put them in danger.

I should’ve never of tried to replace one problem with another. Every bit of discomfort I feel right now, I deserve.

But not my kids.

“No time,” I stress, shaking my head. “I need Alexander to think I’m dead. Everyone has to know.”

“Okay, fine. You’re not making any sense, but—“

“Will you stay with me?” If I thought Mills’s face was terrified before, this one takes the cake. “Can you just wait for me then? Don’t call—“

“I’ll stick around.” He nods like a bobblehead, working himself up into being in an operating room and watching the birth of two kids. “I got this.”

“Don’t faint.” A razor-sharp burn hits my right side, and I flinch, which makes everything worse. I gasp from it and clutch my best friend’s hand tighter. “Mills…”

“I’ll grab the doctor.” He leaves me for a moment, and I feel the loss of him immediately, even if he’s only yards away.

If one of my squishes doesn’t make it out alive, I will have Alexander’s head on a fucking pike for killing my world.

Atlas and Alaric Rhodes were delivered by emergency c-section within an hour of being driven to the hospital. With the babies being born preterm, they were immediately taken to the NICU.

Meanwhile, I had passed out and was put under for surgery.

They had to repair some tissue and muscle damage along with internal bleeding, Alexander just knicked one of my kidneys.

Mills grabbed my phone on the way out of him, taking me to the hospital. It’s been blowing up from my, now, ex-boyfriend who has probably discovered that I’m gone off the living room floor.

He just made himself my next assignment.

One that I will handle on my own without the help of B723 because Alexander isn’t some popstar with groupies and drugs that I could poison him with.

He’s powerful with money and connections. Apparently, a brother can that swing some favors for him, depending on how shady he is.

I have yet to hold my babies or even see them. Being preterm, Atlas has jaundice and low blood sugar. Her name came to me immediately when I was given forms to name the twins. I needed a road map back to where I feel safe, loved again, and home to where it felt normal.

Alaric is obvious but only to me and B723.

It’s Bishop’s middle name.

I needed my baby boy to be strong and stubborn because he had the short end of the stick. He lacks what is called surfactant, which is a substance that allows the lungs to expand. The doctors are hopeful for both of my squishies. I just can’t fail them again.

“No. No, Emmy Lou Rhodes, you have lost your goddamn mind. There is no fucking way I’m pulling off this suicide mission.”

My best friend is having an absolute fit at the end of my hospital bed as he paces back and forth like a lion waiting for someone to drop the raw meat in his cage.

He runs a hand down the five ‘o clock shadow on his face and growls in frustration at my proposal that I’ve just reiterated to him again.

“I’ll make you the godfather of both of them just please—“ Mills suddenly stops and whirls on me.

His expression is so beyond pissed and rattled that I genuinely feel sorry for putting him through this.

For asking him to do this.

“You’re trying to make me their fucking dad, Ems. Do you know how that’s gonna look?!”

“Um…” I raise my brows innocently, hoping it gains me a brownie point in him leaning towards agreeing. “Yeah…it’s gonna look like we had an affair.”

Mills glares at me. His eyes sending nothing but disgust, fury, and possible regret of answering the phone to save me.

Shit, I’d feel the same way.

Kyson would’ve been my next go-to, but I honestly don’t think he’d ever agree to fathering my children when Bishop would slit his throat the first time he saw him. Mills will have Marty as backup and Kyson as a buffer. Bishop won’t be able to touch him.

Plus, this won’t last long.

However, I need Mills to take one for the team so that when I get to the second part of my plan, I have no idea what that’s going to be yet—Alexander will have no rights to my kids.

Now, this is no easy feat. I have to forge DNA results that Alexander will more than likely want done when he finds out what I’ve done.

Or didn’t do since I’m going to be pronounced as “dead” by the end of the day.

Lucien is already performing the first round of tests, and I’m dying inside from anticipation on who the baby daddy is like a fucking Jerry Springer show.

“They’ll kill me.” Mills points behind him at the wall. “Marty, Kyson, Bishop, they’ll stomp me to death.”

“Not with leaving my babies parentless they won’t.”

“Parentless? Why would they be—“ The look on my face must explain some of it because his stormy blues widen, and he compels himself away from me. “Oh, no. No, no. You weren’t right in the head then.