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“Rocky… Oh my god, Rocky, you’ve been shot! There’s so much blood. What do I do?”
I blinked as Peyton’s face appeared before mine, and I smiled at her. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Are you hurt?”
Tears were leaking from her big, blue eyes. “I’m fine, you stupid son of a bitch, you’ve been shot, doesn’t it hurt?”
She was safe. The danger was cleared. It was over. “Nah.”
“Your stomach, oh my god… We need to call an ambulance, where’s your phone?”
My brows creased as she started rooting through my pockets, and I noticed all the blood. I finally turned my attention away from her.
Was it my blood? I could see it seeping into the denim of my pants. I stared down as her fingers darted through my pockets, wrists still bound with duct-tape. I was bleeding from my stomach, but the adrenaline still ripping through my body made sure I couldn’t feel it. I pulled my vest up to look.
“Jesus Christ, you stupid fuck.” That was a man. I turned to the door. Diesel? “You couldn’t wait five minutes for the cavalry to arrive?”
“He’s shot in the stomach!” Peyton shouted, reaching out and practically dragging Diesel over once he was within her reach, as Hawk and Rebel appeared in the doorway. “That’s bad, right? We need an ambulance!”
But I just shrugged as Diesel dropped to a crouch and ripped my vest open to inspect.
“Missed the vitals,” I told him, as he looked and saw for himself. “Barely grazed me.”
“You’re one tough fucker, you know that?” His blue eyes looked relieved as they met mine, and he snorted. “You’re not gonna die in the next five minutes. But it’s best we get you to a hospital, anyway.”
***
“They’re just a couple of grazes,” I told the doctor, feeling impatient to leave. “You’ve cleaned and wrapped my wounds, what more could you need to do?”
The doctor, a South Asian woman with a completely unimpressed expression and a no-nonsense manner, raised her brows. “Sir, you’ve been shot. Sit still and let me finish checking your vitals.”
“You have two minutes,” I grouched, “and then I need to go check on my woman.”
The hospital staff had separated us the moment Peyton and I limped into the hospital, which was fucking bullshit. I was fucking fine. What I needed was to make sure Peyton was safe, to keep her in my sight. Preferably forever.
“All right, that’s good enough for now, your blood pressure is a little low. Nurse Martelli will just—”
“Nope!” I interrupted, bouncing up off the bed I’d been sitting in. “I’m good. Gotta go.”
And with that I pushed out of the exam room and asked every person I saw in scrubs where Peyton was, until I found her on the second floor inside an otherwise empty room, where a middle-aged nurse doted on her.
“Alright honey, your baby’s moving well. You’ll need another scan at twenty weeks just to check everything’s going okay. But you’re past the critical period of early development so the sedative he used isn’t likely to cause any problems to the fetus. You should still be able to come to full term without complications—”
“Excuse my fucking ears?” I whispered, as I stared in shock at the two.
Or rather, I thought I whispered. The way they startled and jumped to look at me made me wonder if maybe I’d shouted.
“Rocky!” Peyton was staring at me with huge, wide eyes. “How long have you been—”
“You’re pregnant?” I looked down at her perfectly flat stomach, and then back at her face, which was dancing with about a thousand different emotions.
“I’ll just… Hmm.” The nurse began to back out of the room. “I’ll leave you two for some alone time, shall I?”
I barely even registered her leaving, as I moved towards Peyton. “You’re… How long? Is it…”
I couldn’t seem to get a full sentence out of my pie hole, so I decided to just snap it shut as I stopped before her.
She bit her lip, and her face finally settled on a scrunched look of worry. “I’m sorry, Rocky. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
“Is it mine?” I asked flatly, and she chewed her lip harder and looked away.
