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The doors to the ER open. A man and woman in scrubs and a police officer come into the waiting room. They face me, and I can tell by the expressions on their faces they recognize Zane and me. They all quickly school their features, remembering where we at. “Mr. McCabe. Mr. Valen. I’m Dr. Adams.”
Zane shakes his hand while I glare. I’m not concerned with niceties. I want to see my girl.
“Tell us what’s going on,” I demand. “Where is Zoey?”
The doctor clears his throat uncomfortably before he speaks, “Perhaps we should go somewhere more private to speak.”
“That’s not necessary. I just want to know what’s going on. Now.” They flinch at my tone. It’s gruff and angry, leaving no question that my patience is at its limit.
“Actually, privacy laws say it is.”
“We all know privacy laws also say you can’t tell us anything, but we all know you will because I not leaving this fucking place until you tell me everything and I see my girl.”
I notice the nurse fidget slightly at my remark. I’m probably scaring the hell out of her right now.
The doctor just releases a long sigh but begins. “At 10:23, Miss Valen was brought in by ambulance. She was injured and hysterical. She'd been beaten pretty badly. She’s suffered a fractured cheekbone and nasal fracture. She also had two broken ribs.”
He pauses looking cautiously at me. He’s afraid I’m going to lose it. Truthfully, I’m about to. I’m like a rubber band that’s being pulled too tight.
“Keep going,” Zane growls.
“I really think we should go somewhere more private,” the doctor insists again nervously.
I shake my head. “Finish,” I command.
I see the nurse’s head bow, and I’m pretty sure she’s crying. This is bad. I know it is, but I need to hear it all.
“We performed a rape kit and retrieved DNA from her attacker.”
I hear Zane suck in a breath. I knew, and so did he, but this doctor confirming what we assumed makes it too fucking real.
I feel my legs getting weak, but I will myself to keep standing. I won’t crumble. Not when she needs me.
Just when I think it can’t possibly get any worse, the doctor speaks again. “When she started bleeding, we performed an ultrasound then performed a DNC.”
My breathing stops. Bleeding? DNC?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My vision turns blurry as anguish consumes me.
“What's a DNC?” I hear Zane ask. “Why was she bleeding?”
This time it’s Rory who speaks with a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “She had a miscarriage.”
Zane whips his head toward me. “She was pregnant and neither of you told me.”
“I - I didn’t know,” I say.
“She said she was waiting to tell you in person when she got back,” the nurse speaks for the first time.
“Can we see her now?” I ask in a low voice, all anger and rage momentarily silenced by my heart breaking for my girl and a baby I’ll never meet.
The doctor and nurse noticeably wince at my request sending my body and mind into alert. “What’s wrong?” I ask as panic seeps into my voice.
“Miss Valen left,” the doctor informs us.
My head jerks toward the doctor with a glare. I step toward the doctor with the intention of making that fucking doctor explain himself. Rory steps in front of me with a hand to my chest. Tension rolls off of him as well, but he’s trying to keep me contained. “What do you mean she left?”
