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“Thank you.”
He’s back on his screen, glancing over his shoulder. “Are you on any medications?”
“No, but I’m pregnant.” The poor guy’s fingers freeze.
“You’re pregnant? You should have told us this first. Let me get a doctor.”
I look around as he leaves. I’m miserable and the shaking hasn’t gotten any better. I’m full-on borderline convulsing. I need Jason. The fear of the unknown is not my friend. Can’t fall apart now—I have to hold it together.
“Eve?” I hear Rodney’s frazzled voice.
“Over here. I’m… here.” I stand and open the curtain. This ER is busy. Nurses, firemen, paramedics fill the nurses’ area and I wave at a frazzled-looking Rodney. He rushes over and grabs my arm, pulling the curtain shut.
“Christ, I’m getting ready to check myself in.” He runs a hand through his light brown hair. His dark blue dress shirt is splattered with blood. His black suit pants are wrinkled and smudged with dirt. I have no idea what happened to his jacket. “Are you okay? Where’s the doctor? My God, you look awful.”
I almost burst out laughing because after all the horror we have been through I was thinking the same thing about him. “I’m a little cold.”
“You’re in shock, Eve.” He looks down at his buzzing phone. “I talked to one of the doctors treating Jason. He’s fine. The bullet missed all organs. They cleaned it and stitched it. They gave him a blood transfusion.” I feel my knees literally start to give out and lower myself into the chair to my right.
His phone rings again. “I need to take this. It’s about security. Also…” He pushes the button on his phone. “Hold on a second,” he tells the caller. “I think it’s best if you stay with my wife.” I open my mouth to say no way but he turns his back so that he can rattle off lawyer stuff.
I hear myself exhale. Jason is fine. He’s okay… And I burst into tears.
“Shit, let me call you back.” Rodney hangs up and awkwardly pats my shoulder. “Eve, sweetheart, it’s going to be fine. Unfortunately, these things happen and we deal with them.”
I glance up at him and hiccup back something between a sob and a laugh. These things happen? I want to tell him that these things rarely happen, and what the fuck?
Before I can speak, a doctor walks in. I wipe my eyes so that I can see him. He’s African American with a kind smile and eyes that twinkle with compassion. He instantly starts asking me questions about the shooting and wants to know how many months along I am. Moving aside, he allows a nurse to wheel in a machine. I lie back, close my eyes, and let them do what they need to do.
Half an hour later and I’ve been checked out. They did a blood test and ultrasound before the doctor allowed me to be discharged. Thankfully the baby seems fine. I’ve stopped shaking, and now I’m tired. I need a shower and Jason. Rodney and I are waiting to get our stupid passes. He’s on his phone again, so I’m left waiting.
The sound of heels clicking makes me look over at a woman. She’s walking fast, something that always amazes me. How can women in heels do that? If I’m not in like a wedge heel or boot, I have trouble. She walks like she was born in them. Her long blond hair hangs down her back, and her giant black sunglasses cover most of her face. She turns and seems to look at me as she pushes the elevator button. When I look away and back again, she seems to be frowning at us. The sunglasses are hiding half her face so I could be imagining it. I peer down at my hands, which are still slightly pink, and then at the older woman behind the information desk trying to confirm my pass. She types the info into her computer at a snail’s pace.
I try not to sigh, but I can’t seem to help it. She throws me a disapproving look and hands me the passes. Rodney takes them and grabs my arm to guide me. I want to tell him I can walk, but I’m too tired to care. He pushes the button and turns to me.
“I have to ask you this because the FBI will be here soon.” The ding of the elevator arriving makes me jump. I glance at my reflection in the mirrored elevator, somewhat shocked at my reflection. Jesus, I can’t believe I’m even allowed in here. No wonder everyone is looking at us. I look so bad it’s like I’m in a Halloween costume and Freddie Kruger has gotten ahold of me.
“What?” I take my rubber band from my wrist and pull my hair off my face into a messy bun.
