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“N-no, no. You’re absolutely correct. I would never risk my patient’s privacy.”
* * *
After a much-needed shower to wash off the layers of grime from the warehouse debacle, I crawled into bed and barely had time to lay my head on a pillow before I was asleep. Even with so much on my mind, I was too exhausted to think straight.
At some point, I felt someone tuck the covers up around me, soft fingers brushing my hair back from my face. I cuddled into my pillow, not knowing if it was Hayat or Ali or Sammy. They didn’t speak, just turned off my lights and closed the door behind them.
Since arriving home, I hadn’t slept alone. Hayat had bunked with me all week, which had been welcome. Having someone watch over me while I sleep tended to stop me from sleepwalking—or any other sleep-drunk activities.
Like having sex with my stalker.
Falling in love with him.
Getting knocked up.
I wished he were here. Holding me. Promising me that everything was going to be okay. That he loved me. That he wanted our baby as much as I did.
Tears seeped from beneath my lashes, dampening my pillow. A warm, hard body slipped into bed behind me, a callused hand rubbing over my belly as a scruffy jaw scratched over my neck. Moaning, I arched into the touch, my body taking over.
At least I had Dream Vaughn.
His big body molded around me from behind, one leg hooking over mine as if he was afraid I would bolt from the bed at any moment. I reached behind me, my fingers burning when I felt the bare skin of his side all the way down to the top of his boxer briefs that were low on his hip. Another tear spilled from beneath my closed lids, my heart aching from so many memories of being held by Vaughn just like this. I never wanted to wake up.
“Don’t cry, zhizn moya,” his deep voice pleaded against my ear, his emotions making his accent thick.
“It hurts,” I whispered. “How am I supposed to be strong for this baby when I can barely fight to breathe through the pain of missing you?”
His fingers caressed over where I imagined our baby growing inside me, his lips skimming soft kisses up and down my neck. “I’ll be your strength, wildfire. Whenever you need, I’ll take care of you and our little one.”
Sleep pulled me deeper, taking away my Dream Vaughn and his promises.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
abi
Bleary-eyed from sleep, I walked into the kitchen in search of something cold for the ache in my face. Doc had offered me some pain meds—that Sammy said were safe for the baby—before he went downstairs to take care of Sixx’s knuckles, but I’d refused.
My face felt like I was the one Sixx had beat the hell out of. But then again, Sammy said the person who hit me had done it on purpose. I had been so focused on getting to Ali that I hadn’t seen the blow coming, intentional or not.
Maybe I should have felt bad that Sammy had killed the person who’d done it. I could have blamed the lack of empathy I had for them on shock, but the reality of it was, I just didn’t care. Desensitization to things like random people being murdered in front of me wasn’t on my life-goals bingo card, yet I apparently got to check it off anyway.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
I startled at the exclamation, my eyes darting around the room in search of the voice it had come from. Hayat sat at the kitchen island, a plate of waffles in front of her. Across from her stood our friend Maddie, her blond hair in perfect beach waves around her shoulders.
Maddie gaped at me. “What happened to your face?”
“Caught an elbow,” I dismissed. When I’d gone to the bathroom earlier, I’d seen how bad the bruise around my mouth was. It went from my mouth, up my cheek, almost to my eye. My lips looked like I’d gotten filler and then had an allergic reaction. I had a crusted-over split on my top lip that made the simple act of breathing through my mouth agony.
“Whose elbow, the Incredible Hulk’s?”
Hayat cut into her waffle, making sure it had a little whipped cream and berries on it. “Sammy told me that some guy saw her trying to get to the mat and coldcocked her. The asshole was apparently laughing about it, too. She said she made sure he regretted it, though.”
Hiding my cringe as I moved toward the fridge, I asked over my shoulder, “Did she say how she made him regret it?”
Please say no. Please, please say no!
I didn’t want Sammy’s homicidal tendencies to corrupt Hayat.
