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“A hell of a lot more good than causing a scene inside.” Tristan materializes next to Daniel, both of his hands shoved into his pockets. “The doctor still wants to call the police. I left Ernesto and Anita to deal with him.”
“I don’t give a shit what he does.”
Tristan raises an eyebrow. “So, you want to spend your daughter’s first day on this earth in jail? How would you like me to explain that to Isabella when she wakes up?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Tristan takes a step forward and frowns. “Why? Because you can’t handle what I’m telling you? We’re on your side, Carter. We’re not against you, and you know that.”
I throw both hands up and scowl. “So, that’s it, huh? You won’t agree to step up if things fall apart, but you’ll rush to Daniel’s side when it comes to me? What the fuck, Tristan?”
“I’m not rushing to anyone’s side. I’m trying to help you, damn it.”
“Help me by keeping me away from Bella? By stopping me from doing whatever it takes to keep her and my daughter safe. She’s a fucking baby, and they let that two-bit moron be in charge—”
“This is how interns learn, Carter,” Daniel interrupts, pausing to lift his head up so he’s looking at me directly. “This is how some hospitals work. It’s why they’re called teaching hospitals.”
A headache is building in the back of my skull. The quiet rage is still burning through me, and Daniel and Tristan are making it worse.
Rather than making me see reason, they’re making me want to add them to the body count.
I’m too fucking close to the edge, and I don’t know how to pull myself back or how to begin to imagine a world where Isabella might not exist. She’s not going to die. I won’t let her.
Growling, I punch the nearest wall, the sharp jab of pain taking some of the edge off. Panting, I punch the wall again and again, earning a few startled looks from others who are passing by. Unable to quell the swell of emotion within me, I punch the wall until my knuckles are bruised, and blood drips onto the pavement below my feet.
My chest is still tight, and the panic in me hasn’t abated. My inner monster is prowling and tugging on his chains, and I’m tempted to let him out.
Tristan places both hands on my shoulders. “Listen to me. You left Isabella to figure out a way to make things work, to find a different kind of life for yourself. Do not throw it all away now.”
I push Tristan away and storm back into the hospital, seeing red everywhere I go.
Outside of the emergency room doors, a group of nurses is standing around a rectangular shaped table. The blonde-haired intern is standing in the middle with a smile on her face. As soon as she sees me, her smile falls, and she takes an involuntary step back.
When Tristan and Daniel find me, I’m shaking with rage as I stand a few feet away, and the intern’s lower lip is trembling. Her eyes are shining with tears, and the group of women who are standing next to her have formed a half-circle. A few of them are staring at me in horror and fear, while others have their shoulders squared and look ready to place themselves between us.
I don’t realize that I’m still lecturing her until Daniel places both arms around me and drags me off. On our way out of the hospital, a group of uniformed men stops us. Daniel is saying something in a low voice and gesturing to me, but I’ve gone absolutely still at the sight of newborns being wheeled past.
Is one of them mine? Have I lost any and all chances to be a part of her life?
To be a part of Isabella’s?
I slump against Daniel and squeeze my eyes shut. His grip is lighter as Tristan’s voice joins his, and they lead me back out into the empty parking lot. In a daze, I let them lead me to Ernesto’s SUV. In the back, I throw my head against the seat and press two fingers to my temples. I’m rubbing in slow, circular motions when I hear the car doors open and slam shut.
Silence stretches over the SUV.
I keep one hand on my forehead, and the other reaches for the glass decanter. I pour myself a generous amount of whiskey and toss it back. Then, I pour myself some more and do the same, hoping to quell the insatiable urge inside of me.
Tristan and Daniel are right. There’s something deeply wrong with me, and I don’t know whether being away has helped or tricked me into thinking it has.
It’s only dulled some of my sharper edges, but they’re still there, and without Isabella around, there’s no one to keep my monster at bay.
“Look, I know this is a lot of shit to handle, but Isabella is strong,” Tristan murmurs. “She’s going to come out of surgery, and she’ll be fine. And you and her and the baby will go on to have a nauseatingly happy life.”
My eyes fly open, and I stare at Tristan. “When the fuck did you get so optimistic?”
Tristan grimaces. “Being around Sam and Isabella most of the time… those two are really something.”
I swallow and nod. “Yes, they are.”
