But Ethan was a step ahead of them.
He pointed his gun at me.
And pulled the trigger.
A searing pain like nothing I’d ever known tore through me. A dozen scorpion stings all at once couldn’t compare to the fire that lanced my leg. I screamed again and crumpled to the floor.
“Ari!” Dane was instantly at my side, dropping to his knees.
I watched, petrified and in sheer agony, as Ethan leapt forward, ripped the baby from Rosa’s arms, and bolted for the door.
“Kyle!” I yelled.
A second later he was on his feet and racing after Ethan.
My attention snapped to Dane. “Go!”
“Ari—”
“Go!”
He tried to press his cell into my palm, but I couldn’t grip it. He leapt up and chased after the others.
Rosa joined me, whipped off the robe she’d tied over her nightgown, and pressed the material to my leg. I was suddenly woozy but said, “Take care of Amano. I’ll be fine.”
She left me and I kept the pressure of the thick terry cloth against my wound. As best as I could, at any rate, because my body trembled violenty.
“Ari.”
My unsteady gaze flitted down the hallway, in the direction of Rosa’s voice. She shook her head slowly.
My breath caught. “No,” I whispered. “Amano.” Everything inside me seized up. Tears threatened my eyes. I closed them tightly, but the drops leaked from the corners.
Amano was…?
No, no.
No!
“Fuck!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Then tried to focus, to think clearly.
What would Dane do?
My lids flew open. I reached for the phone, my shaky fingers dropping it twice before I was able to hold it steady enough to hit the speed dial number for Dr. Forrester. I relayed, as best as I could, as quickly as I could, what had happened. He promised he was on his way.
I fought body-racking sobs, choking them back. They weren’t even related to my leg. The grief was purely about Amano and the fact that Ethan had my son.
Mustering all of my strength, since I had determined the day I’d confronted Wayne Horton that there was no way I’d cower in a corner, I partially crawled, partially dragged, myself toward the credenza.
Rosa’s head popped up from the end of the enormous piece of furniture.
“Chica,” she barked. “Stay.”
“I’m not a dog, Rosa.”
“You’re going to make it worse.”