I looked at Dom one more time. “Call me if anything move.”
“I got you,” he said.
I nodded, then turned and walked toward the elevator, already pulling my phone out my pocket because right now? A blunt and Keondra didn’t sound like a bad idea at all. Wasn’t like it was shit else to do tonight, if Dom wanted us to wait, we wait.
CARMEN ROYAL
By the next morning, I felt better. My body was still tender from the way I hit the pavement and every now and then my stomach tightened up just enough to remind me that stress had kicked my ass, but the weakness was gone and the dizziness had let up. The cold, shaky feeling that took over my body after the courthouse had eased back enough for me to think straight again, and every time a nurse came in to check the baby and I heard that strong little heartbeat filling the room, something inside me melted. It didn’t erase what happened, nor did it erase the image of Kilo dropping over me or Dom’s face when he realized I was covered in blood that wasn’t mine, but it gave me enough peace to stop replaying the worst of it every damn second because truthfully in this life, I’d seen a lot of blood and always had to wear a tough core.
Dom, on the other hand, looked like he had gone to war or was ready to. I know my husband and I knew exactly what was on his mind. He had not changed out of the same black clothes from yesterday, and the shirt he was wearing was wrinkled now from a full night of sitting, standing, pacing, and not sleeping at all since he watched me all night. No matter what though, he still looked strong like Dom and unfuckable with. He hadspent the whole night in that room with me, sometimes sitting too still in the chair by my bed, and sometimes standing by the window watching everything and waiting for some bullshit. A few times he would be on the phone in the hallway giving quiet instructions to some of his people even when he thought I was asleep, I could feel him looking at me. That part would have been sweet if it wasn’t so damn intense.
When I woke up fully, he was in the chair again with his elbows on his knees and his head slightly bowed down with his phone in one hand, and the other hanging between his legs. The morning light from the crack in the blinds shined on the side of his face, and he was still the finest man in the world, and I lay there for a second just looking at him because moments like that were rare with Dom. He was always so strong, always controlled, and always moving like the room and everyone in it had to adjust to him but this version of him, the one stripped down to worry and silence, didn’t show up too often.
“You know if you keep staring at me like I’m on my death bed, I’m gon’ start charging you for emotional damage,” I told him, with apparent sleepiness still in my voice.
He lifted his head immediately and his whole demeanor changed just from hearing me talk. He stood up so fast the chair scratched against the tile floor, and he was at the side of the bed before I could even blink.
“You play too much, and now ain’t the time,” he muttered, slightly running the back of his hand down my face. Dom never showed too much emotion, but I enjoyed his soft side. I could look in his eyes and see he was afraid to lose me. I had wanted this for song long and now I felt like I fully had it.
“No, you just too intense.” I sighed.
“You were on the ground yesterday covered in blood. I saw a lot of blood in my life, but seeing what I thought was yours was different.”
“It wasn’t my blood though Dom.”
“It was on you,” he replied back, in a serious tone. He never had to yell to get his point across. His eyes always told the story if you looked deep enough into them. “And you couldn’t talk. I’m not scared of shit, but you scared the fuck out of me. So yeah, I’m lookin’ at you.”
I let out a slow, deep breath and placed my small, soft hand over his, pressing it a little more firmly to my face. “I know.” I sighed. “I know.”
He looked at me for a second longer, then leaned down and kissed my forehead. It was that famous forehead kiss that men did when he really loved a woman. A little while later the doctor came in with two nurses and ran me through the same questions they had been asking me since I got there. Any cramping? Any dizziness? Any bleeding at the moment? Was I feeling the baby move? Was I still nauseous? Was I under any unusual stress? That one almost made me laugh because how the hell do you answer that with a straight face when you got shot at outside a courthouse and the whole city saw it? Like seriously.
They checked the baby again and even did an ultrasound again and each time I was very stern about not wanting to know the sex. The heartbeat came through strong once again. The doctor listened, nodded, and finally said the only words I had been wanting to hear since yesterday.
“We’re comfortable discharging you.”
Dom was already moving before he finished talking. The nurses went over the instructions twice because of who I was married to, and they didn’t want any mishaps, and in fairness, they weren’t entirely wrong. They wanted me to rest, hydrate, no stressing, no overworking, and monitor for cramping. They also said come back immediately if anything felt off.
“Basically,” the older nurse said while handing me papers, “sit down somewhere and let people do for you. You should be fine.”
I politely smiled. “That sounds horrible.”
That got a little laugh out of her, but Dom didn’t smile at all. “She’ll do it,” he said.
I looked at him and raised a brow. “Will I?”
He didn’t even turn his head. “Yeah.”
The second they left; I pushed the covers down and started reaching for my clothes that had been folded neatly on the chair in the corner. Dom turned from the window and watched me for all of two seconds before he crossed the room and picked the clothes up himself.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Helping.”
“Nooo, you’re hovering and I don’t want you to think you have to handicap me.”
He wasn’t trying to hear it. “No, you’re weak right now.”
“I’m not weak.” I reminded him.
