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Where is the damn doctor?
My eyes cut to the door, impatiently waiting for her to get here. At the same time, I’m terrified she’s not going to be able to do anything to help Ri.
Please don’t let it be too late.
“In here,” I hear Hayes say, and my breath catches.
I push Gage back and make room as Hayes leads the doctor to Ri. The doctor is young—maybe thirty. But she doesn’t question the scene in front of her.
Each of us holds our breath as the doctor checks Ri’s vitals and makes a quick assessment. She doesn’t relay what she’s found. Instead, she starts IV fluids in her arm. Then her eyes flick to her bag Hayes brought in, and then she looks to me.
“You—stand next to me and pull out equipment as I need it,” she orders.
I grab the bag from Hayes and kneel beside the bed. I pull out medications, sutures, oxygen—everything the doctor asks for until finally, the doctor’s shoulders relax, and Ri’s breathing becomes steady. I grab Ri’s wrist and feel a stronger pulse, then look to Beckett and give him a reassuring look.
Tears well in his eyes, and his face has some color in it for the first time since he carried Ri into this room.
“How far along was she?” the doctor quietly asks.
I look to Beckett.
“Umm…” he runs his hand through his hair. “Nineteen, no twenty weeks.”
She nods carefully, expressionless. She looks to me as if wanting me to deliver all the news somehow.
“Is…?” Beckett starts but never finishes his sentence.
“Your wife is going to make it. I gave her plenty of fluids and antibiotics to fight any infection that might set in. And…” the woman looks at me, and I know. I know what she knows. I saw her elbow deep inside Ri. And I heard her ask how far along she was, not is.
Because she’s no longer…
The doctor is a smart woman, though. She can tell we are dangerous men. She knows how heartbreaking this is for anyone, let alone under these circumstances, and she knows I’m the one who should say the words.
“Do you have a way to perform an ultrasound, or do we need to take her to the hospital?” I ask, knowing that proof is what Beckett is going to need to face reality.
Her eyes go to her bag. I open the black leather sides wider and find a small device.
“If the baby still has a heartbeat, we’ll be able to hear it with this,” the woman says.
Everyone stares at the doppler like it’s a torture device. That’s what it is to us—torture.
The doctor squirts some gel onto Ri’s stomach and then moves the device in small movements around her lower belly. Her stomach is already so deflated and deeply bruised we’ll need a miracle to hear anything.
The room is absolutely silent.
Beckett closes his eyes like it will help him to hear the heartbeat.
Hayes and Gage hold onto each other in the corner.
I stare at the little machine and then the doctor’s features—waiting for the moment of truth.
Quietly, the doctor shakes her head and removes the device from Ri’s stomach. She then silently walks outside the room, leaving us to mourn.
I barely make it to Beckett before he collapses in tears.
“This is all my fault! I couldn’t protect her! This is all my fault! I couldn’t keep our baby safe! I should have never gotten her pregnant! This is all my fault!” he wails over and over.
Chapter 17
