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Punk sneers, shaking his head angrily. “The fucking miscreant has some nerve calling him and demanding he ‘come home.’
Terrified, I grab at Punk’s sleeve, my heart in my throat. “He’s trying to get Maceo through me?”
“Don’t worry about Atlas,” Punk says reassuringly. “Esteban will never get him. He’d have to go through every one of us. It’d be a cold day in hell before that happened. And besides, my brother can handle himself. Our only concern is getting you into hiding and remaining there until the job is done. You do as I say, and everything will be fine, I promise.”
Not entirely reassured, I fall back against my seat. Asking me not to worry about my husband seems like a fool’s errand. Maceo is deadly, but that doesn’t mean I want him in danger. Esteban is not an idiot—I’m Maceo’s kryptonite. We already knew I was a target, but knowing he vocalized it brings it home like a bat to the head.
My stomach begins to turn—I don’t feel well. I was rushed out so quickly, I never had time to grab anything to eat. Not sure if it’s hunger pains adding havoc to my body, but this is the worst I’ve felt during this whole pregnancy.
“Jo? You okay?”
“It’s my stomach,” I say, even though it’s more than tummy issues. My nerves are fried with this constant cloud of dread hanging over me.
“You probably need something more than peas and Twizzlers. Shock can give you a stomach ache. Let me run in and get some food. I’ll leave the truck running, so you stay warm,” he says, and I smile slightly at his thoughtfulness.
Punk heads inside the mini-mart like a man on a mission. I’m watching him through the storefront windows moving between the aisles when I hear my phone buzzing.
There isn’t anyone I’m expecting a call from. It could be work-related. I grab my purse and fish out my phone—it’s Doctor Stoll’s office.
Crap.I’ve missed three calls within thirty minutes. That’s odd. Not even bothering to listen to the voicemail messages, I immediately call the clinic.
“Fort Collins Women’s Healthcare Center. How can I help you?”
“Hi, this is Jo Tabares. Someone was trying to reach me from Doctor Stoll’s office.”
“Yes, Missus Tabares. Let me transfer your call. They were anxious to get a hold of you.”
Why are they anxious?Shit!Something must be wrong.
I rub my stomach as I wait for the call to get transferred, feeling worse by the second. “It’s going to be okay,” I say nervously to my babies.
“Doctor Stoll’s office, Abby speaking,” the nurse says in a tight voice. There’s a lot of rustling in the background. Something falls with a muted thud. Abby moans before muttering under her breath, “Oh, no.”
It must be one of those kinds of days for everyone.
“Hi Abby, it’s Jo.”
Abby lets out a deep sigh. “Jo, thank you for calling back. Listen, you need to come in—ASAP.”
My stomach drops. “What? Why?”
“We got your test results back. Doctor Stoll needs to see you right away. He’ll explain when you get here. Please, come now. He’s cleared his schedule to see you.”
He’s cleared his schedule? Shit. This has to be serious.“What’s wrong?”
“Jo, please, try to remain calm. You know I’m unable to release any information to you; that’s the doctor’s job. But we need you to come.”
Oh, my God! Are my babies in danger at this very moment?
I’m in a vehicle, high-tailing it out of Colorado. The hospital is five minutes away. The babies need this care before we leave. This can’t wait ‘till we get to Florida to meet my new doctors.
“I’m on my way.”
I watch through the windows of the mini-mart. Punk stands in line behind several people.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
My heart is racing dangerously fast. My blood pressure rises the longer I sit waiting for him.
