He glares at me for a beat.
“Fine. But for the record,” he looks back at Isabella, gesturing between us. “I don’t likethis.”
“I can’t remember asking for your opinion,” she snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You’re going with him, aren’t you?”
Isabella glances over at me, worry already gnawing at her bottom lip. “Yes. He needs a hospital?—”
“I don’t need a hospital?—”
“So someone needs to make sure he actually goes to one,” she finishes, entirely ignoring my interruption.
Leon gives me one more glare before throwing out his hand. “Send word when you’ve recovered.”
It’s not a question. In fact, it sounds more like a demand, but I reach out to take his hand anyway. “I won’t keep you waiting.”
“Look after her.” He nearly crunches all the bones in my hand as we shake.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of a wince. “I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
“Guys? GUYS!”
We separate at the sound of Rocco’s panicked voice behind us.
“The baby’s coming!”
I slump back in the ambulance stretcher, barely aware of the paramedic patching up my thigh and taking my vitals. I look over to where Rocco’s lying beside me, his face pale, an oxygen mask strapped over his nose and mouth, his eyes half-open but dazed.
We’ve both been running on pure adrenaline. Which meant neither of us had any fight in us when the ambulance came. That doesn’t mean either of us wants to be here.
Rocco is likely tearing himself apart. Cas went with Isabella in the other ambulance. But she’d inhaled so much smoke. Her body had gone through so much stress. If she’s gone into labor…
I sit up, pushing against the medic who’s trying to keep me down. “I don’t need this,” I growl, looking over at Rocco, who’s fighting his own battle with the attendants trying to strap him down. “We need to stay with them. We need to?—”
The paramedic shakes his head, his grip firm as he pushes me back. “You’re going to the hospital. No arguments.”
I glance at Rocco, and we share a look. Exhausted, burned, but united in the same thought: we don’t care about ourselves. Right now, all that matters is Cas and the baby.
The ambulance doors swing open, and we’re unloaded, wheeled through blindingly white corridors, fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows over our bruised, soot-streaked faces.
I think I see Cas being rushed ahead, doctors surrounding her as they move her quickly down another hallway, their voices rapid and tense as they discuss her breathing, the baby’s heart rate, her contractions.
My hands clench, and I catch Rocco’s eye again as they wheel him in beside me. He looks like he’s on the verge of getting up and running after her, restraints or no restraints. I’d do the same if they didn’t have me pinned.
A nurse tries to put an oxygen mask on me again, but I shove it aside. “It’s my best friend’s wife,” I say, my voice low and rough.“She’s in labor, and we don’t know if the baby will be okay. Just let us?—”
“We need to treat you,” the nurse says firmly, her face giving nothing away. “There could be damage to your lungs, and if you don’t cooperate, you’ll only exacerbate your injuries.”
I bite back a retort, nodding stiffly. There’s no arguing with her. I let them clean the cuts on my face and bandage my arm, the sting barely registering over the sick worry twisting through my gut.
Every second feels like an hour, every breath dragging me down into a darker, colder place.
Rocco barely tolerates his treatment,, his face a mask of terror as he keeps looking toward the door, straining to hear any sound that might come from Cas’ direction.
“She was already in pain before the fire,” he mutters to me, his voice breaking. “I don’t know if she can…if they’ll be okay.”
I want to tell him they’ll be fine, that Cas is strong, that the baby’s tougher than we know, but the words feel hollow. Instead, I reach over and grip his shoulder, holding him in place, grounding us both as we wait in grim silence.
