Jenalyn: Crossing Lines (#4) [Complete]

Chapter 91: Rob

Sunday, 7:03 A.M. EST

I set Jen up on a bench outside of the main entrance of Upper Ridge Hospital, thankful for the brief moment when the hospital traffic is frozen enough so that I can rest easy knowing nobody is around to recognize her. 

I had to make sure the babies were still alive. I honestly went into it with low hopes; I tried to keep it positive with Evelyn back at the house, but I knew time was precious with these two babies, and that they may not make the drive out here. 

I was shocked to see that, though seemingly asleep, their little bodies still twitched in a way that undoubtedly meant life. 

And then I should have left. 

Should have. 

But... my heart wouldn’t let me. Not without at least trying to wake her up.

I had so much I wanted to say to her… and who knew if I’d ever get another opportunity! After this visit? There’s probably no way she’d ever make her way back here to see Dane again. And as long as everything goes well with the rest of Ev’s plan- Dane shouldn’t ever go hunting her down either. 

“Jen… wake up!” I say, crouching down in front of her until I’m level with her slumped over head. I know she’s exhausted from the delivery, and that when she does wake up, she’ll probably be in a world of pain… but I have to tell her goodbye! I have to tell her that I really do love her! “Get up, Jen! Please! I want to-“

“So you’re the Big Bad?” a man’s voice interrupts from behind me, physically freezing me in my tracks for the brief moment my head convinces me that it’s Dane. Even after the fact, because getting caught by anyone during the drop off was definitely not part of Evelyn’s plan. “What did you do to her? Why isn’t she awake? ... Answer me!”

I slowly stand and turn around only to be met with the Tyler guy Evelyn said would take it from here. I know it’s him partially out of remembering when Jen had shown me his picture in explaining to me who my child would call “daddy,” and partially due to the very... Hollywood type wannabe-bad boy swag he’s got going on. 

He just looks like a fucking Pop Tart, dude! Yet out of respect for what Ev says this Pop Tart will do to help Jen, I let him feel like he’s got the upper hand here. 

“I brought her here for you...” I say, holding my arms up to show him I’m harmless when I glance over at the phone he holds up beside him, 9-1-1 visibly dialed out on his screen. “I did not do this to her.”

God fucking damnitt! Did I just blow the whole fucking plan? If he calls the fucking police, especially out here? Well all be fucking fucked! Dane would find out about this for sure, and there goes the plan! As far as he needs to know right now, she’s at my place with me, unsupervised- and he’s on his way to catch us in the act. 

I should have just fucking dropped her off and left like Evelyn said. The two minutes I spent trying to say goodbye was literally the difference in being here, or gone when this Tart showed up. 

This could have gone flawlessly, but instead I get to sit here and rack my mind for the best way to handle this situation now that I’m in it.

Tart’s eyes scan Jen for a moment before they’re back to me. He’s visibly flustered, but tries to keep his demeanor hard. After a moment, he signals to the phone he holds in his hand.

“Look, you’re going to answer my questions or I’m sending the call…” he says, pausing briefly to scan my face for resistance. I show none, so he continues more confidently. “Are you the crazy ex?”

Well, he’s got to be talking about Dane. Jenalyn must have told this Tart about him- what the hell was she thinking?! I mean, she can’t be that dumb right? Maybe she just told him that she’s got a crazy ex-boyfriend. Maybe she left out all the crazy shit that she fucking knows shouldn’t be put out there. 

I search my head for a response, deciding last second that pretending to be Dane would probably be better for Jen in the long run. I’m sure Tart over here isn’t too fond of Jena’s obvious contact with her “crazy ex-boyfriend.” Pretending to be him right now, basically surrendering her to him, might help her out in the future. I know dudes like him probably get mad insecure with a chick like Jen…

Plus, I don’t need this asshole thinking he’s got unfinished business and hunting down the real “crazy ex-boyfriend“ if I don’t pretend to be him. That’d be a shit show. 

“I guess you could say that,” I say after a moment, channeling my inner Dane subconsciously, but rolling with it the best I can while not posing a threat. “It’s not what you think though; We’re not together or anything. She needed my help, and now yours, so-“

Tart interrupts me. Dane wouldn’t have fucking had that shit- but again, I can’t pose a threat. 

“Needed your help with what?” he asks, his face hard. “And why does she look like that? Why isn’t she awake?”

Tart must be excited, but I don’t got the fucking time to just stand here answering his strings of discombobulated questions all day. If not for the fact that Jen and the babies need medical attention ASAP, then for the fact that I’ve still got to head back to Creekside to put phase three of Ev’s plan into effect before Dane comes home! 

“Look, put the fucking phone down, and don’t get stupid, okay?” I sigh, dropping my act to get to the point and get the fuck out of here. 

I turn around to retrieve the laundry basket, doing a quick checkup to make sure I’m not about to hand this dude two dead babies, before walking over to him and shoving it into his arms. The look on his face is priceless, though definitely shocked and pale.   

I had a feeling that’d be a good way to shut him up. 

“She needed my help delivering your babies, I guess- and here we fucking are!” I rush to continue once he looks ready to handle it. “The girl has got a problem though, alright? A bad one. She’s not doing too well; Neither are the babies. Unless you want to lose all three of them? I suggest you stop screwing around and get them into that hospital for stabilization.”

Tarts jaw is dropped, but he gets it together quickly and clears his throat. 

“Y- You’re just leaving?” he asks, noticing as I go back to the bench to grab the keys to my truck. 

I don’t respond with anything other than a nod of my head as I brush past him, and back down to walkway into the small parking lot.