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I’m about to dive into the house and look for cover when Dr. Jenkins climbs out of the driver’s seat. He already has his black medical bag in his hand and is jogging towards the porch.
“There’s my doctor!” I blurt, pointing at him. “That’s my personal doctor. He can tell you that I’m safe.”
Dr. Jenkins nods at the EMTs and then looks up at me. “I got here as soon as I could.”
“How?” Mariya asks.
“Yakov.”
He doesn’t need to say more than that.
“We still can’t leave without knowing—” one of them starts to say, but his words are lost in the roar of an engine. Another car tears down the street and ramps up onto the grass.
Before I even have time to panic that it’s our enemies coming to attack, Yakov jumps out of the car and beelines straight for the EMTs.
“Who the fuck called a fucking ambulance?” he roars.
Mariya ducks behind me. “Shit.”
The two EMTs turn to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder like they stand any actual chance against Yakov.
Without looking away from the men, Yakov jabs a finger towards Dr. Jenkins. “Get everyone inside. Now. Check her over.”
Dr. Jenkins ushers me and Mariya through the front door. As it closes, I hear the EMTs arguing that they need to perform an exam, but I know that won’t be happening. Not once Yakov is done.
“Where should I conduct the exam?” Dr. Jenkins asks.
He glances down the hall to where Vera and Usev are watching nervously from their bedroom door. They agreed to take us in, but I'm not sure they realized exactly what kind of chaos they were signing up for.
“Downstairs would be for the best,” I tell him. For Vera's sake as much as mine.
Once again, we descend the basement stairs, delving back underground. The terrifying part is how much safer it feels. I think I’m getting used to hiding.
Once we’re back in our makeshift house, Dr. Jenkins sets up his equipment and begins the exam. I talk him through my symptoms as he checks my vitals. His expression gives nothing away as he pokes and prods at me.
Finally, he presses the heart rate doppler to my stomach. Immediately, the soothing sound of one, and then a second, heartbeat fills the room.
“The babies sound great,” he says. “I’m not concerned about them at all.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath for the first time in an hour.
Then Yakov tears into the room. His dark hair is sticking up like he’s been running his hand through it. He finds me and our gazes hold, a million emotions passing between us.
He kneels next to me and squeezes my hand. “How is she?”
“Her blood pressure is high, but that could be from the excitement,” Dr. Jenkins offers. “The spotting is more concerning than it was the last time given that she is now in the second trimester, but the babies seem to be doing fine.”
Yakov nods and kisses my hand. “I got here as quickly as I could.”
“It’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
“No.” His jaw flexes. “You had to call an ambulance. The risk that puts you both in…”
“Mariya was scared. Don’t be upset with her,” I say softly. “She was trying to take care of me.”
“I don’t blame her.”
In true Yakov fashion, I’m positive the only person he’ll blame is himself.
