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Riker lifted Gia up and pulled her against him while he dug into her purse for the bottled water and crackers.
“Little sips.” He kept a tight hold on her and said gently. “Just take little sips of the water and small bites of the cracker.”
With a shaking hand, Gia lifted the bottle to her mouth spilling some of it along the way.
“Jesus, Gia. You’re as weak as a kitten.” Riker frowned as he held the bottle for her. “How often do you get sick like this?”
“All day, every day.” She murmured sorrowfully.
“What does your doctor say?” Riker frowned.
Gia shrugged and looked at him guiltily. “I haven’t really seen one yet.”
“Seriously?! How come?!” His voice was loud and incredulous.
“Don’t yell at me!” Gia hissed at him. Then she immediately groaned and put her hand against her stomach.
“I’m not yelling!” He lowered his voice and grabbed a hold of Gia as another wave of nausea hit. Riker felt the cold, clammy sweat as it seeped through Gia’s pores dampening her skin and hair. He helped her over to the car where he opened the door, plopped her down on the passenger seat, and belted her in.
Gia watched on, through a haze of sickening headache pain, as Riker rifled through her purse for the car keys. Then he started the engine and pulled quickly out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” She managed to squeak out through the dull throbbing in her temples.
“This isn’t normal, Gia. The way you’re getting sick like this, it ain’t right. I have a pack of nieces and nephews and know more than I should, or want to, about what happens to a woman during a pregnancy—and babe, you just shouldn’t be this sick.”
“I don’t know how bad I should feel or shouldn’t feel. It’s not like I’ve ever done this before.” Her voice barely above a whisper.
“Gia, really? Come on, babe, common sense should tell you that something is wrong.” Riker said in exasperation.Couldn’t the woman see how ill she was…one look in the goddamn mirror should have told her that her body was in serious trouble…
Gia moaned and muttered something he couldn’t hear. Then she added in a voice strong with desperation. “Riker! Please! Pull over!”
When the last bit of heaving turned her lips to a bloodless color, Riker bundled her back into the car and pressed the pedal to the medal.
“I think I’m gonna die.” Gia began to cry. “And I’m worried about the baby. You’re right. I should have known better. This can’t be good.”
“I got this.” Riker’s only thoughts now were to reassure Gia and get her the help she needed. He reached over with one hand and gently put his strong fingers on the pulse on her wrist. “Your heart is pounding like it’s gonna jump out of your chest. You have to relax. Deep breaths —that’s it, honey. Nice and deep and slow. Good. Now take a drink of water, just a little sip. Your only job right now is to lean back and try to relax your body. All that vomiting has got to be making the muscles in your back and neck sore as hell. If you need me to pull over again, just say the word. Keep sipping on that water, we have to rehydrate your body. That’s it, Gia, that’s good. Now lean back, close your eyes and I’ll handle the rest.”
Riker really hoped she could hold it together, so he could get her to the hospital asap, but as it turned out, Gia’s nausea continued on in almost a steady stream during the ride. Riker had to pull over several times while she dry-heaved on the side of the road. The last bout left Gia depleted and totally worn out. She lay with her cheek on the cool grass refusing to get up.
“Just let me die here.” She muttered.
Riker had never seen anything so pathetic in his life. He picked her up gently and put her next to him in the car. Then he drove at breakneck speed to the exit that would bring them to the hospital.
Gia had the vague sense of being lifted into strong arms and held against a chest that felt like granite warmed by the sun. A deep male voice was whispering soothing things to her while he carried her with long purposeful strides into a place filled with fluorescent lighting and the smell of antiseptic.
Gia tried to talk but found that she didn’t have the energy that it would take. Her head throbbed, and her reflexes seemed to be working in slow motion. She had the vague impression of being placed in a wide, wobbly chair and someone was asking her a bunch of questions.
Despite Gia’s obvious inability to respond in any kind of coherent fashion, the questions not only droned on and on, but the tone of the interrogation changed from mildly concerned and somewhat bored to indignant and insistent. Gia felt herself fading off. She let out a soft moan in the direction of the voice and said weakly, “Please just stop talking and get me some help.”
“No information, no admittance.” The receptionist snarled out.
And that’s when it happened. All hell broke loose as Riker’s voice boomed out into the room. Startled out of her daze, Gia sat up wide-eyed now as she watched Riker lose his shit on the woman at the desk. Then she held on for dear life as he careened the wheel chair right though the swinging doors and past a sign that read STOP AT THIS POINT. While Riker bellowed out for a doctor, Gia began to vomit up the sips of water and tiny bits of crackers that she had been trying to hold down.
Too weak, too exhausted, and just too damn sick to care anymore, Gia leaned her head on the low, wide back of the wheel chair and placed all her bets on Riker.
The man was in a serious rage…and thank god for it. The last thing she heard was Riker calling out her name in alarm, then everything went black.
When Gia regained consciousness, she was lying on clean, crisp sheets and a mattress that was surprisingly thick and comfortable. There was something pinching in her arm and she lay in a fuzzy cloud of confusion. The sound of voices wafted through the air and their words buzzed like worried bumble bees around her head—dehydration, electrolyte disturbance, fetal monitoring.She tried to speak but failed, then everything went black again.
