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“What’s the damage?” I ask. “How did my tests look?”
The nurse raises her brows. “You were hit in the right flank. The shot was clean, so it went straight through you. Luckily the bullet missed your vital organs, though you bled quite a bit.”
“X-ray?” I ask, purely out of instinct. “Just to make sure there aren’t any foreign pieces left?”
“Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that.”
I tilt my head to the side, confused. “What’s going on?”
The nurse takes a deep breath. “Well… Maybe I should get the doctor in here to talk to you.”
“I’ma doctor,” I lie. “Just tell me. Is there a problem?”
“Ah, that explains it.” She flips through my chart. “According to this, we took a blood sample with the intention of getting you an x-ray for the exact reason you just stated. But when the results came back…”
She hands me the chart. My eyes scan the information quickly, sorting through all the numbers and medical jargon. The doctor’s handwriting is messy—I guess stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason—but I’m able to decipher his notes anyway. My eyes land on my blood test readings.
My hCG levels are through the roof.
“I’m pregnant?” I mumble aloud, barely able to get the words out. “Are you sure this is an accurate reading?”
The nurse nods. “We’re sure. And as a result, we can’t give you that x-ray. You’re still in the early stages of your pregnancy, so the radiation would be harmful to the child. The surgeons had to use ultrasound instead. It looks like you’re in the clear, but I take it from your expression you didn’t know?”
I shake my head slowly, lying back against my thin hospital pillow.
Pregnant.
The nurse is right. Itmustbe early stages since I haven’t even begun to feel the usual symptoms. Taking my pill is a part of my daily routine. I’ve never missed a day, yet…
I sigh. As a doctor, I know birth control is only 99% effective. There’s still that one, tiny sliver of possibility, and it seems I’ve unknowingly won the lottery.
“I’m going to go get the doctor for you,” the nurse says. “That way you two can confer. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime? And, no pressure, but the police want to speak to you, too.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “They’re here?”
“They’ve been waiting out in the hall.” There’s something almost sympathetic in the way she looks at me. “If you need more rest, I could maybe… send them away for a bit?”
I manage a small, grateful smile that takes all my energy to produce. “That would be great, thank you.”
And then I’m alone again, my thoughts rampaging around inside my skull.
Pregnant.
I can hardly believe it. What am I supposed to do with this information? How will Dimitri react when I tell him?IfI tell him. He’s still getting used to the fact that he has Simon. What’s going to happen when he realizes he’s now the father of two?
My hand falls protectively to my belly. I don’t know what my next step is going to be, but Idoknow I can’t do this without Dimitri’s help. If Edvard catches wind that I’m still alive, there’s a chance he might come back to try and finish the job. But how am I supposed to tell Dimitri? I’d have to expose my truth to him, that I’m his enemy, too.
Washis enemy.
My first point of business is getting the hell out of here, though. I’m a sitting duck, a perfect practice target for Edvard and his shitty aim. If he gets his hands on me a second time, I doubt I’ll be walking away. All I have to do is get to Dimitri. We’ll just have to figure things out from there.
With a stifled groan, I slip out of bed. My body is heavy, too heavy. I can barely keep myself upright. It doesn’t look like the hospital staff kept my clothes. Probably too bloodied to save. The only place I can think of where I can grab something to wear is the staff room. The only question is how do I get there undetected?
I unhook my IV properly. Idiots on TV and in movies like to yank it out on screen, but I know for a fact that’d only cause damage. I even know which buttons to press on the monitoring machines to keep it from beeping harshly once I’ve removed all the sensors. As quiet as a mouse, I tiptoe toward the hospital room door and poke my head out. The coast is clear, but I’m sure it won’t be for long.
It doesn’t take me long before I find a staff room. Plenty of lockers are lined up in neat rows. A few of them don’t have their combination locks on properly, hanging open and loose for ease of access. Their mistake, but my opportunity. I hurry to the nearest locker and find a pair of jeans and a shirt. It belongs to a man, but I’m not going to complain. I’ll throw on whatever if it means getting out of this breezy hospital gown.
Fortune apparently favors the bold because I find the man’s cell phone inside, too. With trembling fingers, I dial the only number that comes to mind.
