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“Not tonight,” he says, almost with a hint of amusement that I don’t care for.
Well, I don’t know anyone who wants to stay in a hospital longer than necessary. It’s not like people vacation here.
“What do you mean not tonight? Didn’t I say I feel fine?”
“Bri.” Drago draws out my name, but I don’t bother to look in his direction or acknowledge I heard him.
My eyes stay locked with the doctor’s, waiting for an explanation as to why he thinks I need to be here instead of out in the city, searching for the missing boyIfailed to protect.
I don’t feel any pain so I must not have been injured that bad, but then I catch something in the physician’s eyes and facial features that make my stomach drop while dread washes over me from head to toe.
Oh, God, is it Gabe?
If that motherfucker hurt him I swear to God I’ll kill him—consequences be damned.
“Perhaps your friend would step out to the waiting room and we can—”
“I’m not fucking leaving. How many times do I have to say that, doc?”
I squeeze D’s hand, making sure he knows he’s not taking even an inch away from me. I’m a strong woman. I know I am, but the feeling in the pit of my stomach is scaring the shit out of me right now. And if this does have to do with Gabriel, shouldn’t Drago be present?
A moment ago, I was prepared to leave here so I could find the man who put me in this bed and place him behind bars. But now... I’m not sure if I’m going to even get that chance.
Was Gabriel already found? Did something worse happen?
My mind races like it never has before. I’m starting to feel slightly crazy, so I need Drago here with me, beside me.
“Are you sure, Miss?”
A growl rips from Drago’s mouth.
“Yes,” I bite out at the ridiculousness of his mannerisms. If it is about Gabe, then Drago definitely should be here. If it’s about me, then just tell me and let me get out of here so I can do my damn job.
“Very well.” The doctor sighs, and it’s then I recognize the hint of sympathy in his eyes. “You have a concussion from hitting your head. Your ribs are severely bruised, and I’m surprised none of them were broken by the numerous blows your body took. You were very lucky there.” He nods. “But you’ll be in a lot of pain once the morphine wears off. You do have a button to push should the pain get too unbearable though.”
His head dips, nodding to my side, and it’s then I look down. Lying next to my free hand is a white plastic device with a red button on top. I pick it up, but I don’t press it. Other than stiffness and grogginess, I feel okay, so why the cloak-and-dagger nonsense about D leaving while he speaks to me?
I know now even if he knew something about Gabriel, he wouldn’t be the one to tell me. There would be no reason for him to.
So what is it then?
This, what I’m feeling now, with the drugs in my system, is nothing like the pain that sliced through me when Diaz shot me, or when—
“I’m sorry I have to inform you of this, but you miscarried your baby.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’m frozen where I lay. I can’t move, and I can’t look away from the man standing in front of me. His eyes betray him.
Dr. Thornton’s face is forced into what appears to be empathy, but his dark gaze doesn’t translate what he’s trying to make his face say. Maybe it’s like seasoned officers; maybe he’s seen so much trauma he’s desensitized to all of it—the violence, the tragedy, the loss...
A miscarriage?
I was pregnant?
No way.
I couldn’t have been. He has it wrong. Why on earth would he think I had a miscarriage?
