Instant Family (Silver Oak Medical Center Book 4) Page 6

  Allen rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. If he'd known he was going to do literally all of the work in this fake relationship, he'd have seriously reconsidered offering himself for the role. Okay, he'd probably still have wound up doing it, but he'd have been stricter about negotiating the fine print.

  Yes. Come up with some ideas. He added a few flirty emojis at the end to satisfy the people he knew were watching the messages go back and forth, from the nosy bastards in IT to the looming menace that was ICE. Then he checked the clock and smiled. He had enough time to head down to the NICU and hang out with Alaina.

  An hour with Alaina would probably cure war. The baby, even dealing with NAS and the myriad complications of being a preemie, had nothing to offer him but sweetness and affection in her infantile, little way. She held onto his finger with her tiny hand, and let him feed her. He changed her diaper, and spoke to the pediatrician about her.

  The pediatrician was not the same pediatrician that had officiated at her birth. This one, Dr. Young, was a neonatologist. She came into the room toward the end of his kangaroo time with Alaina and gave Allen a smile. "Do you have any idea how well that little girl is responding to treatment? She's already having a better outcome than we could have ever expected."

  "Well, she's a pretty strong little angel, that's for sure." Allen traced a line against her cheek. "She could take over the world if she put her mind to it."

  "Given the right environment, and parents who support her, you're probably right." She wrinkled her nose at Alaina, who kicked her little feet. "It looks like she's getting that, too. Social Services hasn't found any relatives, and at this point, I'm not sure it's going to be in her best interests. We'll see what happens, of course, but she's pretty strongly bonded to you."

  "We're pretty strongly bonded to each other." Allen grinned down at Alaina. "I want what's best for her, obviously. But my heart won't exactly be broken if she comes home with me, you know?"

  "Well, that's kind of what I came to talk to you about. She's going to be able to go home sooner than I'd have expected, given the shape she was in. You need to start getting ready for her. Clothes, bedding, that kind of thing."

  Allen tried to keep a professional demeanor, but he knew he was glowing. "I've got a crib and some basic bedding, just because of the whole emergency foster thing. But I'll go out and buy her some clothes tonight." He blushed. "I might have already picked her up a couple of things. You know. Just because."

  "I wondered where those little onesies in her drawer came from." Dr. Young winked at him. "Seriously, Allen, she's already stronger and breathing better than we expected. She's growing faster and gaining more weight than we projected for this age, too. That's down to you."

  "Nah." Allen shook his head. "I helped, sure, but everyone in the NICU has been helping. You've all been working round the clock to keep this little angel with us. It takes more than just one person." He grinned up at her. "Thank you."

  She gave him a quick, one-armed hug, and then it was time for Allen to get back to work. He got Alaina back into her incubator and got dressed again, and then he headed back over to Obstetrics.

  His day passed relatively quickly after that. He had ten patients to see, seven of whom were pregnant. Two of them were postpartum and needed exams, and one of them needed treatment for an STI. Five o'clock rolled around before Allen realized it, and he headed back down to the NICU for some Alaina time.

  After Alaina time was over, he headed back out to his condo in East Syracuse. He still hadn't heard from Brantley, but he probably wouldn't. Not until Brantley showed up on his doorstep with a list of equally insipid suggestions for where to go and what to do for their show date. Honestly, if this were a real relationship, Allen would have gotten rid of him a long time ago.

  When Allen pulled up to his house, he didn't see Brantley's car in the driveway. No, he saw a large, black, American-built SUV with tinted windows and US Government plates. Allen's body felt much colder than the indifferent air conditioning in his car should have allowed.

  He pulled up to the curb and got out, palms sweating. They knew. They'd figured it out, between Brantley's romantic incompetence and the utter incongruity of anyone wanting to be with Allen. He closed his eyes for a second. Why did this stuff never happen to guys like Carter?

  This stuff didn't happen to Carter because Carter didn't freaking let it happen to him. Carter was strong. Carter was tough. Carter didn't take anyone else's crap. Maybe Allen couldn't actually be Carter, but he could probably fake it. They'd spent plenty of time together, right?

  He took a deep breath. He'd either scare the ICE agent away with his wits and ferocity, or he'd throw up on their shoes. It had worked in college.

  He walked up to the SUV and knocked on the window. Then he stepped back, far enough for the agent to open the door, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  The agent who emerged from the SUV wasn't the same one Allen had met before, Gottlieb. This one was a woman, whose dark hair had been pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. She wore her bulletproof vest over a plain black tee shirt and had her badge on a chain around her neck. "Mr. Frye," she greeted him. "I'm Agent Parris, from Immigration and Customs Enforcement. I'd like to come in, if I may."

  Allen's insides quivered. He should let her in, because she'd be suspicious if he didn't. The part of him that was trying to be like Carter kicked at him. He didn't have to let her in. He had rights. "Do you have a warrant, Agent?"

  "We don't need a warrant to have a conversation, Mr. Frye." She gave him a thin, predatory smile.

  "But you do need a warrant to come onto my property without my permission. You're on my property right now without my permission, blocking my driveway. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Agent." He set his face into a sneer and hoped he wasn't signing his death warrant. "And it's Dr. Frye, thanks."

  Parris sneered. "Gotta get something for that PhD, I suppose. Does Dr. Powell call you Dr. Frye, I wonder?"

  Allen reached for his phone. Parris' hand dropped to her sidearm, but she relaxed when he came back with just his phone. "You've got to be careful when you're dealing with the police, Dr. Frye. A lot of us are on a hair trigger. We deal with all kinds of miscreants."

  "Well, right now you're trespassing, Agent. And what I'm doing is calling my lawyer, who's going to address this issue right now." He scrolled until he found Jason Delancey's cell number. He hated calling any of the Regent crew for anything, but Delancey had proven himself with Luke and with Dr. Wade. "Get off the property."

  "So, if you and Dr. Powell are supposedly so tight, why is it you're looking to adopt a baby that's got no chance of passing for his?" Parris stepped in closer.

  Allen made himself stand still. Carter wouldn't back down.

  Delancey picked up on the third ring. "Allen? What up, buddy?"

  "I've got ICE Agent Parris here on my property without a warrant, asking questions, despite having been told she's not welcome. She's refusing to leave." Allen forced himself to meet Parris' narrow, hazel eyes.

  Delancey let out a little growl. "Put her on the phone, please."

  Parris leaned in even closer, close enough for Allen to smell her sweat. "And you're adopting, you're bringing a baby home, but you're not discussing moving in with this boyfriend you supposedly have been with for three months? Obstructing federal law enforcement is a felony, Dr. Frye."

  Allen held Parris' gaze. "My lawyer wants a word with you."

  She took the phone. Allen stood and kept his expression inscrutable as he listened to her end of the conversation. "My badge number? Five four six oh. I don't need warrant—yes, but—no, but— ine, but don't think this is the last of this." She hung up with a snarl and passed the phone back to Allen.

  "Watch your six, beanpole. You know you're a liar. We know you're a liar. And the minute we have proof, you're going to spend the rest of your life doing hard time in the federal pen. And I'm going to be laughing when they throw away that key." She leane
d in and poked him in the chest. "Border security isn't some kind of a joke." She jumped back into her car and left, face twisted into a porcine mask of hate.

  Allen pulled into his own driveway at long last and let himself into the house. He changed into something suitable for a date and poured himself a drink. He needed to steady his nerves.

  His hands shook so badly as he poured that he got as much whiskey onto the counter as he did into the glass. He'd volunteered to help out, because he believed in the cause. Everyone wanted to keep bad people out of the country. Revoking someone's asylum after they'd been in the country for twenty years was just cruel. It wasn't what America was about, or at least not the America Allen had believed in his whole life.

  He'd known it was illegal. He'd known there would be consequences. Lifetime imprisonment, though? That couldn't be right. That couldn't be legal. He tossed back his whiskey. Was he willing to go so far for his belief?

  Did he have the right to go that far, when Alaina was depending on him? That was a different question, and not so easily answered.

  He raced for the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before everything he'd consumed that day made a repeat appearance. He wasn't some kind of rebel, some kind of justice warrior who could fight for all things safe and right. He was just a midwife, a nurse. He wasn't a hero.

  One bad day had set him on this course. He'd been so desperate to make life better for someone that he'd been willing to risk anything. Now he was looking at federal charges, and possibly harming an innocent infant, all for a guy who didn't care about him any more than he cared about the tires on his car.

  He flushed away the evidence of his weakness and rinsed out his mouth. He'd made his choice. Maybe Brantley didn't care about him, and maybe Brantley didn't appreciate the risk Allen was taking. Allen had still made the promise. If he backed out, Brantley would die. Allen knew it as much as he knew his own name. He couldn't hang Brantley out to dry now.

  Brantley didn't need to know about Parris's threats. Allen would tell him about the visit, but he wouldn't tell him about the threatened consequences. Brantley might be a lousy boyfriend, but he had enough on his mind. He didn't need the added stress, and he didn't need some kind of guilt trip about what they were doing. Allen would keep his mouth shut.

  He cleaned himself up, and cleaned up the bathroom again just to make sure. He cleaned up the kitchen counter and hid the whiskey. Then he headed back into the living room to wait for Brantley.

  ***

  Brantley was surprised to find the Silver Oak General Counsel, Jason Delancey, at Allen's condo when he got there. He'd been hoping they could just go out for a quiet dinner and maybe have a pleasant evening together, not some kind of a group thing. Sure, everything was happening to support their ruse, but Brantley could count on being followed a good fifty percent of the time by some kind of ICE agent or one of their stooges. Surely, just being together counted for enough.

  He sighed. He was thinking about this the entirely wrong way, and he needed to let go a little. He needed to be more open-minded and think about what was important here. If the lawyer was here, something had probably gone wrong. Or maybe Allen just had some kind of problem of his own that a good boyfriend should help with instead of resenting.

  Brantley should make more of an effort to be a good boyfriend, instead of only thinking about his problems. Sure, his problems were life and death, and that made them the priority. That didn't mean anyone else's problems went away.

  He got out of the car and headed up to the door, and waited for Sadie to finish announcing his presence to the rest of the world. Allen answered the door within seconds. "Brantley, hey." He smiled and hugged Brantley, right there in full view of all of the neighbors and everything.

  Brantley stiffened. He couldn't help it.

  "Settle," Allen whispered. "At least I'm not asking for a kiss." He pulled back, a wide and happy smile still plastered across his face.

  Brantley painted a smile onto his own face. It was all an act. He needed to figure out how to act himself.

  Once the door was closed behind them, Allen closed the blinds all over the lower floor of the townhouse. "Okay," he said, and dropped the facade. "Sorry about that, Brantley. I had a visit from an Agent Parris when I got home today. I felt like we might be under surveillance."

  Brantley recoiled. "Parris? She's Gottlieb's right hand. She's like a toad with a topknot."

  Delancey was sprawled across Allen's couch. He smirked. "I didn't see her, Allen did, but I spoke with her on the phone. 'Toad with a topknot' sounds about right, I have to say." He ran his hand through his long blond hair. "She seemed kind of surprised that someone wouldn't be interested in talking to her without a warrant."

  "Yeah. She's pretty sure the Constitution doesn't apply to ICE." Brantley sat down on one of the other chairs. "I don't — I'm sorry she bothered you, Allen. That's not something you should have to deal with."

  Allen looked away. "It's okay, man. That's why I'm here." He looked back up and rolled his shoulders, and then he grinned. "I wouldn't exactly welcome her back, don't get me wrong. But I knew I'd be dealing with ICE when I signed up, right?"

  Brantley looked at Allen for a moment. He was hiding something. Brantley hadn't known him long, but he knew when someone was trying to put a brave face on something. He saw it often enough, in his office. "What did she want?" he asked, after a moment. If Allen wanted to keep his secrets, Brantley should probably not push. After all, he was an adult, and an adult doing Brantley a huge favor at that.

  Allen rubbed his temples. "She was just trying to rattle my cage. She wanted to prove that our relationship is fake."

  Brantley thought he might stop breathing. The world narrowed for a long moment. "Really?" He would have been ashamed of the way his voice squeaked, if he weren't so convinced of his own imminent demise. "Why would she say that?"

  Delancey made a face and loosened his tie. "Believe it or not, she said it was because you two have been together for three months and haven't moved in together. If that doesn't sound like the biggest crock of crap you've ever heard, tell me now."

  "And Alaina." Allen cleared his throat. "She had an issue with me adopting Alaina, because I can't pass her off as yours."

  Delancey's face went red, and then white. "I'm not just going to have her badge for this." He sucked in his cheeks. "I'm going to make sure she can't even get a job cleaning motel rooms in Tijuana."

  Brantley kept his mouth shut. He'd had the same concerns, but he wasn't going to raise them again now.

  "Who seriously shacks up with someone after only three months together, anyway?" Allen started pacing. "That's preposterous. It makes no sense at all. It's irresponsible."

  Delancey tilted his head and narrowed his blue eyes at Allen. "Luke and I moved in together after only a couple of weeks."

  "That's different." Allen waved his hand. "You and Luke had known one another for a long time, and he needed a place to stay. Brantley and I don't have that issue. She can't honestly expect us to just shack up together after only three months just to satisfy some kind of weird prurience on her part."

  "She can expect anything she wants." Brantley cradled his head in his hands for a moment. "She and her boss work for ICE. They can do whatever they want. But I agree. I think it's absurd. I mean for one thing, that's too short a time to get to know one another. For another, under the circumstances, it would hardly lead to a harmonious relationship."

  Allen huffed out a little laugh. "Right?" He shook his head. "Talk about being under the gun."

  Delancey winced. "Okay. It's a little unorthodox, but you could maybe give it a shot."

  Brantley frowned at the lawyer. Allen slouched in his seat. "Mr. Delancey, I think you need to seriously consider what you're saying here," Brantley told him.

  "I am." Delancey sat back against the cushions. "I agree that it's kind of a bizarre milestone for them to want to see, but if it's a choice between moving in together on a temporary basis and sen
ding Dr. Powell back to Jamaica to die, I can only see one reasonable choice."

  Allen pressed his lips together and blew a long stream of air out of his nose. "In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess." He met Brantley's eyes. "It doesn't have to be forever, right? It's only going to be for a few weeks, or maybe a few months at most." He tilted his head. "It can't possibly be that bad. My house is sound, it's in a nice enough neighborhood, and I don't have a lot of stuff here anyway."

  Brantley gaped. "I can't decide if I'm horrified that you'd be willing to shack up with someone who's virtually a stranger to you, or overwhelmed with gratitude that you'd be willing to go so far for me." He shook his head. "I just can't do it. I can't just have a stranger sharing my home, my bed, my everything. It's too much."