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“It’s not him.” I shook my head. “It’s the…”
“I know who it is,” Carven snapped, straightening the creased neckline of his shirt. “You think I don’t know my own blood? I know Colt, know him better than anyone. But this.” He waved a hand toward his brother, who just looked at him like a rival. “This isn’t him.”
Colt’s answer was to take a step forward, his top lip curling.
I lifted a hand. “No—” I barely got out before another wave of nausea slammed into me again, making me clutch my stomach and moan.
“Are you supposed to be this sick?”
I winced, swallowing hard as that urge to retch came back. “I don’t know.”
Fear gripped me. What if there was something wrong? My hand trembled. “I need my phone,” I requested as I stepped back into the bedroom.
The hostility in the room didn’t ease as Carven searched the floor, grabbed it from amongst my discarded clothes, and handed it to me. But he didn’t come closer, just eyed his brother as I pressed one of the few contacts I had stored.
The phone barely rang before it was answered. “Vivienne,” the soft male voice said. “Everything okay?’
In the background, I could hear chaos. Multiple orders were barked around the beep and squeal of machines. It sounded frantic. Still, the doctor had answered my call.
“I’m pregnant,” I rushed. “But I’m vomiting a lot and I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.”
“How far along?”
I lifted my gaze to Colt, who still glared at his brother. “Not long. Four to six weeks.”
“It’s normal to be sick in the mornings. How is your health? Have you had any…recent trauma?”
He knew the kind of life I had, and what we’d been through. “Not the best.”
“I’m sending you the name of a specialist. She’s one of the best gynecologists in the city. She’ll look after you. And Vivienne...”
“Yeah?”
“You need to protect yourself now more than ever.” He gave a grunt, lifting something as he spoke. “You have another life to think about now. I need to go, but please keep in touch.”
“I will. Thank you, Lucas.”
“You’re very welcome.”
He was gone, leaving me holding the phone as my belly clenched again.
“Well?” Carven glared.
I don’t know,” I said. “He’s given me the name of a doctor who’ll see me.” I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to stumble for the toilet. “I need someone to take me.”
The bedroom door opened slowly and London stepped in. His dark eyes missed nothing as he scanned the room before settling on me.
“I’ll take you,” he declared, then met Colt’s threatening stare. There was a flinch before he stepped toward him. “You need to get ahold of yourself, son. We need you, do you hear me? We need you to come back to us.”
A flicker of confusion rose in Colt’s eyes. The blue brightened a little, leaving the dangerous glare of the beast behind. But it was only a flicker before the darkness returned.
“If you send me the details, I’ll make the call.” London offered, glancing my way.
I nodded, my fingers trembling as my phone beeped with the doctor’s details. I did as London asked, sending the information. “I need to shower,” I muttered, going back to the bathroom and leaving them behind.
How the hell were you supposed to look after yourself when your world was a goddamn mess?
I didn’t know. But I had to try.
