Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,339

baptized you, Grip, when you were a little boy.”

Grip looks uncertain, wrestling for a moment and then looking to me.

“What do you think, Bris?” He searches my face, eyes tortured and voice low. “What do you want?”

We painstakingly crafted that birth plan, taking every step and every minute into account, but neither of us really have any faith. Last rites never occurred to us, and it never came up. I haven’t given much thought to what happens when you die. You die, you’re gone. But as I look into Zoe’s eyes, the exact color of mine, and as I see my DNA mingled with Grip’s in this little girl, that’s inadequate.

I search the circle of faces waiting for me to express something I’m not sure of, until my eyes land on Kai. I don’t have faith. I’ve never pretended I did, but today, I need to believe in something. I need to believe this isn’t the end for my baby girl, that when she breathes her last and she’s lain in the ground, she doesn’t just go to dust.

“What do you think happens next, Kai?” I ask, my eyes locked onto hers for any sign of doubt. “What do you think happens if Zoe dies today?”

Her eyes widen, but never waver, and I realize how easy it is to underestimate her. I know she has soaring ambition, of course; I’m her manager. I know her drive would put anyone to shame; I’ve seen her work ethic in action. What I didn’t realize until right now is what drew my brother to her, beyond the talent and her beautiful face. At her core, there’s something unshakeable, something that if tested, holds, and I need it right now.

“I think she goes to heaven,” Kai says, her voice strong and sure.

“Your daddy told you that?” I ask, lifting one brow. “You said he taught you most of what you believe about God.”

“Yeah, he did.” She looks at the floor and then up to the ceiling, exasperation twisting her lips before she returns to me. “He may not have lived everything he preached, but I never doubted that he believed it, and I do, too.”

“What did he say . . . I mean, well, did he have anything to say about babies like Zoe?”

Kai’s eyes don’t leave my face, but I can tell her mind turns back, back to some memory.

“When I was a kid, my best friend’s little sister only lived for a day.” Kai bites her lip before continuing. “We were so excited all those months her mama was carrying her, and for days I cried after the baby passed away.”

I glance down at Zoe, noting how still she’s gotten, how shallow her breaths have become, and my heart rests on the jagged edge of Kai’s faith, on her next words . . . borrowed faith for a little girl on borrowed time.

“Daddy told me this world is dark and dirty and hard.” She huffs a laugh comprised of cynicism and grudging admiration. “That’s how he talked to me, a little girl, about faith. He was ruthlessly honest about it, and he said these babies were the purest thing God had to offer. They never got tainted by this world. They’re here just long enough to give us a glimpse of heaven, a glimpse of glory. He called them glory babies.”

Tears slide into the corners of my mouth, drowning the sad smile. The nurse’s lips purse and her eyes pinch with the effort to keep her face neutral, but I know. I don’t need her stethoscope to tell me what my heart already knows: Zoe’s leaving me.

I huddle deeper into Grip’s shoulder. Beneath my head he’s solid ground, but his chest quakes with a tremor and his tears dampen my hair when he buries his face in my neck. He always says he can’t take my tears, but the sound of the sobs he’s restraining, trying to protect me from his own heartbreak, rends my soul.

We’re a mess.

And I suspect this is just the beginning. We got her here, but I’m not strong enough to live in the empty space she’ll leave behind.

“Glory babies,” I whisper, sniffing and pulling Zoe’s little cap back and off, not caring if Ms. James or my brother or Kai aren’t prepared for what lies beneath. Her last moments on this earth will be in my arms just as she is, in her purity, in her glory. As she came into this world, that’s how she’ll leave.