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“That doesn’t work for me.” I shove the pain to my heart at his mention of my miscarriage—that I don’t fully understand—away for now. “I need to get out of here. There was a baby kidnapped that I—”
“Bri!” Drago says from my right, but I ignore him, staring down the physician that’s keeping me from being the cop I am first. “Stop this,” he continues. “Stop with this kid. He isn’t yours. Let your department or whoever find him. You could have been killed. I could have lost you.”
“Stop what?” I yell at him, instantly regretting my outburst as shooting pain rips across my abdomen the very moment my muscles clench together in frustration.
I grab my middle, jerking my body up in the bed; the pain catching me off guard is momentarily unbearable. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before; so intense.
Drago’s hand is instantly on my back, rubbing, attempting to soothe me, but there is no amount of comfort that can make the reality of this go away. This brief, yet painful, setback doesn’t change a single thing. I still have to find Drago’s son—my sweet boy.
“Baby,” D’s voice is strained.
“Brianna!” My head snaps up, looking behind the doctor.
My father stands in the doorway, his dress shirt missing his tie and unbuttoned at the collar. His dark, disheveled hair is grayer than I’ve ever seen. It’s almost enough to make me pause in my demand to leave—almost.
“Dad?” I groan from the ache that hasn’t fully died down.
He rushes around the doctor, coming to my bedside and pulling my head to his chest in a hug. It’s shocking, initially. I don’t remember the last time we’ve embraced. He used to hug me when I was little, but it wasn’t often, and then when my mom died he became more distant with Jackson and me.
“I’ll leave you all alone for now,” Dr. Thornton tells us. “But Miss Andrews, you aren’t leaving this hospital tonight, so please try to get some rest.” He leaves before I’m able to gain my wits to dispute his authority. He may be the physician treating me, but I still have a choice if I stay in this bed or not.
“Dad?” I pull back a little, making him ease up on the pressure his palm has against the back of my head, and I look up. “What are you doing here?”
“I called him.” I hear Mike’s voice from behind my father.
“Why is he here?” my father barks. Glancing upward, I see my dad looking over my head, eyeing Drago with so much disdain showing in his blue eyes.Great.Now I have this to deal with.
“I’d like to know the same,” Mike chimes in at the foot of my bed.
“You were shot!” My dad’s voice rises. “Did he have anything to do with it?” he asks me. “Are you the reason my daughter could have died today?” He redirects his questioning to Drago before I’m able to get a word out.
“Dad—” I start, but Mike intercepts.
“Is he, Bri?”
I pull away from my dad, facing a man who for the past couple of years has always seemed more of a father figure than the man that hasn’t removed his hand from my back. “Why was he at your apartment? Why is he here acting a little too acquainted with the detective who’s investigating him?”
“What?” My father goes still next to me, eyeing Mike, trying to work out what he’s just revealed.
“Can we discuss that later? What news do you have on Gabriel?”
“Bri,” Drago says in warning.
“No, Bri. Let’s not, because Tom is out in the waiting room. What do you think he’s going to ask the minute he knows you’re awake and alert? So, tell me now and then get your shit together before he gets in here and starts interrogating you.”
“Do not talk to her that way,” Drago seethes. “She’s been through enough tonight. Whatevershityou or anyone else wants to know, can wait.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I was addressing you. And no!” Mike holds up his hand, palm facing Drago. “This cannot wait. Her fucking job is on the line here.”
Drago stands, the force making the chair he was just sitting scrape across the floor. My hand juts out, wrapping around his wrist, allowing my nails to dig into the skin where the tail of his dragon tattoo sits.
“D, sit back down.”
“Brianna,” my father says, placing his hand on the railing next to me. “Please tell me you aren’t mixed up in something with an Acerbi.”
Ignoring my father, I pull on Drago, finally gaining his attention.
His head swings down, and his dark, tired eyes land on me. I silently plead through our locked stare. I don’t need him doing anything reckless or stupid. It’ll only make matters worse. There is more on the line than just my job. In fact, that’s the least of my worries. That realization surprises me. I love my job and the work I do. I don’t want to lose it, but there is a life that matters more than a paycheck ever could.
