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When she didn’t shy away, I slipped an arm under her legs at the knees and wound the other around her back before I lifted her off the ground. I didn’t know what else to say, what else to do. So I kept murmuring stupid shit, like how I was going to get her someplace safe so they could take care of her and make everything better. I had no idea if I was spouting off lies or not, but the words seemed to settle her as I carried her to the passenger side and opened the door.
After placing her inside, I dashed to the opened driver’s door and climbed behind the wheel. As soon as I sank into a cushioned leather seat, a shock wave of déjà vu and uncertainty claimed me. This was a nice car. An ex-con like me, twenty minutes free from the pen, should not be driving a car like this.
But when the pregnant girl sucked in another breath of pain, I refocused on my main mission. Get her help. Fuck everything else.
Grasping the gearshift, I glanced behind
me and reversed from the parking spot. “Is the hospital still on Twentieth and McClellan?”
She shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed, her hand cradling her stomach in place. “I don’t...yes, maybe. That sounds right.”
That was good enough for me. Checking traffic, I pulled onto the road, and a disorienting wave clouded me. It’d been too long since I’d last driven a vehicle. A blurry image of bright red hair filled the inside of my head, a girl’s laughter as I peeled out rang through my ears, and my nostrils flared as if I could still smell her flowery scent while I followed her over the center console and into the backseat.
Blinking the memories away, I shook my head and concentrated on traffic. But the pregnant woman’s pain grew thick, her breaths shorter and whimpers louder.
“How you doing?” I asked with a quick glance her way.
Her cheeks were even paler than her blonde locks as she sniffed and wiped at some of her tears. “I can’t believe I did this. I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not,” I tried to reassure her but only made her jump when I cursed and slammed on the brake before honking the horn and snarling more obscenities at the SUV who’d just cut us off. When I had to brake again at a red light, I risked another glance her way. She wasn’t faring any better than she’d been thirty seconds before. “It’s not your fault this is happening.”
But she bobbed her head, her wet eyes apologizing as she looked at me. “It is. I’m on bed rest; I wasn’t supposed to leave the house.”
The light turned green. I got us through the intersection and drew in a breath, trying to calm myself so I could help her. “I’m sure you had a good reason to leave.” Maybe talking would keep her mind off things.
“My husband...” she started, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “His birthday’s this weekend. I wanted...I needed to get him a present.”
“What did you get him?” I asked as 20th Street came into view. Thank God.
The woman made a sound of pain. “Two...two tickets to the science museum.” A brief pain-filled smile drifted across her face. “He loves science.”
I nodded. “He’ll like that, then.”
But my answer only made her squeeze her eyes shut and cry harder. “Not if I k-killed our baby.”
“No, don’t even think that way. You didn’t kill anything. Fucker,” I muttered when some dumbass turned in front of us to only go ten miles per hour. I swerved around him.
Three blocks left. St. John’s rose up from its surrounding buildings, its bright red hospital cross on the side, a beacon of hope. Almost there. “How far along are you?”
“Sev...seven and a half months. Only thirty weeks.”
I reached out and covered her trembling hand on her stomach and squeezed briefly as I turned into the hospital’s parking lot. “Your baby will be fine.”
She looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears, and in that moment I knew she believed me because everything around her calmed.
“Will you call Quinn for me? Tell him...”
When I parked at the entrance of the emergency room, she turned and looked up at the glass-fronted foyer. Her composure from moments ago dissolved. Sobbing uncontrollably, she hugged herself tight. “I want Quinn.”
I left her briefly to hurry around the car to her side. There was even more blood than before, but I didn’t let my gaze linger on that. I scooped her into my arms and spun her toward the entry doors that slid open for us. Someone must’ve seen us coming; a nurse was already pushing an empty wheelchair our way.
After I set the woman down, she looked up at me with fear and panic, watching me take a step back while half a dozen more medical workers swarmed her. They barraged her with questions, but she kept watching me, her gaze begging.
“You’ll get Quinn? My husband.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
That seemed to quiet her. She turned her face aside to answer a nurse’s question, and they whisked her away, leaving me standing there like a clueless dumbass.
