“No, that’s not possible.” But I watch in horror as his eyes slide shut and remain that way. A broken sob rips from my throat. “Colton, wake up.”
“His pulse is weak,” she warns.
Another jab of heartburn blasts through me. I take a moment to consider the sudden onset. A faded memory clicks, one my mom used to share with us. It’s unlikely the cause for me. I haven’t experienced other symptoms. But if it gives him a reason to fight, I’ll use that to my advantage.
My hand grabs his to rest on my stomach. “I can’t do this without you. Please, Colton. Fight. For us. We need you.”
The woman across from me makes a strangled noise. “You’re pregnant?”
I don’t answer her. All of my concentration is centered on keeping Colton alive. “Wake up. Please, please. You can’t leaveus. Don’t you dare try. We’re in this together. You’re saddled in secrets with me, Stalker.”
But he doesn’t hear me. His skin is clammy and cold when I check his temperature. I try to snap the elastic band around his wrist, but the damn thing breaks. As if that’s not some kind of omen. My chest is caving in. There’s a cinch tightening around my ribs, pulling harder until I’m heaving. Fuck, I can’t breathe.
The wail of sirens cracks into the dismal outlook. Red and blue lights soon follow. A team of medical professionals spills onto the scene. I’m nudged away from Colton as they take control of the situation. Numbness spreads, leaving me empty. The life is draining out of me too.
Once he’d loaded onto a gurney and lifted into the back of the ambulance, a paramedic motions me forward. My mind is blank. All I can do is stare.
“Go,” the redhead tells me. “I’ll handle things here. You’ll owe me one.”
My head is bobbing robotically, willing to do whatever she says if it means going with him. No matter where that road leads.
My knee bounces to the erratic beat of my impatience. It’s been hours since I’ve seen Colton. The paramedics managed to stabilize him in the ambulance, but he lost a lot of blood. They couldn’t tell me how bad his injury was. Not until he had surgery. Last I heard, he’s still in the operating room.
I stand and begin pacing again. There’s little else I can do. Dad, Brody and Paisley are on their way but it’s a haul up to northern Minnesota. People stop to stare at the gore splattered on my clothes. Those stains belong to Colton and I’m not washing him off. A harsh glare burns my weary eyes. It’s too white in this hospital. Sterile like a fresh start that mocks me. All I want is the life we were already building.
Another jab punches the hollow ache in my chest. I feel gutted. The stench of bleach and antiseptic burns my nose. At least they have a readily available pharmacy. With quaking fingers, I pop two antacids in my mouth and chew.
“Are those safe for the baby?”
My boots squeak on the tile floor when I whirl to confront the redhead. “I’m not pregnant.”
She saunters over, all leather and cautionary tales. “Sure about that?”
I chomp on my bottom lip. “No.”
“Had a hunch this was a new development.” She tosses a box at me. “Go squeeze the lemon.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Pass.”
“What else are you gonna do? Drive yourself crazy waiting. Might as well get answers.”
Which reminds me. “Who are you?”
Her smile is sharp like a dagger. “Been wondering how long it would take. I’m Frankie. We’re gonna be the best of friends.”
I snort. “Doubt it. Have you fucked my boyfriend?”
She hisses and claws at the air. “Such a brat. You can relax, Bee. Colton and I go way back, but not like that.”
The use of my nickname is almost as irritating as the old lady gawking at the blood on my face. “Give me that.”
I take the pregnancy test to the nearest private bathroom, which isn’t too far from the waiting area. A quick glance at the directions is plenty. The process is simple enough. After doing my business, the wait begins. It almost pains me to wash my hands, but I’m not that desperate to keep every drop of Colton on me.
My gaze purposefully avoids the test until a solid five minutes pass. Just to be extra sure. The sinking in my stomach is unexpected. We weren’t planning it. The odds spoke forthemselves. There’s nothing to be upset about. I nod just for the sake of acceptance. This is probably for the best.
But disappointment follows me back to Frankie. I plop onto the empty seat next to her. “Negative.”
“Let me see.” She opens her palm.
