“Yeah,” Jax said. “I heard him crying when I cut through the park. Thought it was a cat. Then I saw… this.”
He nodded toward the bundle.
“I already called 911. They’re on their way.”
Panic surged through me.
“Are you crazy? We need to call 911!” I said.
“I did,” he replied. “They’re coming.”
He pulled the baby closer, wrapping his leather jacket around both of them. Underneath, he only had a T-shirt.
He was shaking—but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m keeping him warm until they get here,” he said. “If I don’t, he won’t make it out here.”
Simple. Matter-of-fact. No drama.
I stepped closer and looked carefully.
The baby’s skin was pale and blotchy. His lips had a bluish tint. His tiny fists were clenched tight.
