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SLAM!
My head banged against the corner of a crash cart. I jerked back and collapsed on the floor, seeing stars, then…
Everything went black.
Shouldn’t death be silent? Or maybe not in Hell. The fiery pit of the damned my mother had spoken of wouldn’t be a serene place to spend eternity. I guessed it would be fitting. My impure, lascivious behavior was a black mark with an automatic “no dice” to pass through the pearly gates.
Bummer for me.
“Tell me goddammit, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” a man said in a hushed tone.
“Sorry, brother. I’m not authorized to share her medical chart with you. As it is, you shouldn’t be here without her permission.”
“She’s unconscious, for Christ’s sake. Tell me what made your eye twitch when you saw me. It only does that when you’re keeping a secret.”
“We’ve known each other too long,” the man muttered.
Were they talking about me?
Was I not dead?
Obviously not if I could feel my hands and my eyes were trying to open.
“She’s waking up,” a female voice said. It sounded familiar. “Hope, can you tell me where you hurt?”
“What…happened?” Even with a fuzzy head, I vaguely remembered the crazy man and how he looked like he wanted to kill me.
“You were knocked out.” She squeezed my hand.
“Baby.” I put my hand on my stomach and blinked several times until Mercy’s face came into focus.
“Baby? She’s pregnant?”
I slowly turned my head in the direction of the man’s voice. I wished I hadn’t.
Hustler.
“No.” I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “Get. Out.”
“You gotta go, man. She doesn’t want you here,” Doctor Hayes told him.
“I’m not leaving,” Hustler growled. “Hope, is the baby mine?”
Why would he ask? He knew I slept around like he did.
“Brother, now is not the time.” The doctor gripped Hustler’s arm, but he jerked it away.
“Hope, please. Is it mine?”
I wanted to lie, but the two-letter word wouldn’t leave my lips. Instead, I closed my eyes and cried, completely overwhelmed.
“Nurse Parker, I’m admitting you for observation and a CT scan. If all checks out, you should be released by lunchtime.”
“And what about the baby?” Hustler blocked my view of Hayes. “Sweetheart, who’s the father?” He leaned closer toward my face. “You know what? It doesn’t even matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you, Hope.” He caressed my cheek. “I claim you. You’re mine.”
