~
The next morning, as I stare at my reflection in the mirror after washing my face in the bathroom sink, my worry continues to haunt me.
I usually don’t like peanut butter, but last night I suddenly felt like eating dollops. Also, yesterday, when I was with Suzannah, I caught a whiff of peaches from her hair, which I never have before, and I hated it. Then there’s the fact that I haven’t had my period. In fact, I’m already nearly ten days late.
I noticed it earlier but I told myself it was probably only because I was under a lot of stress. Or maybe the change of environment was messing with my hormones. Now, though, I’m wondering if it’s something else. Something more.
What if I’m pregnant?
I’d like to tell myself it’s impossible, but I know it’s not. I’m no longer a virgin, after all, and the first time Rainier and I had sex, he didn’t use protection. So yes, I could be pregnant.
The thought of it makes me wrap my hands around my throat.
I don’t want to be pregnant. I’m not ready. I have my career ahead of me. I’ve just found out who I am. Besides, I don’t have a husband. I’m not even engaged for real. Rainier may say he’s mine, but he hasn’t said he loves me. I don’t know if he does, which means he could very well bolt the moment I tell him about the baby. He’ll support the baby because he’s responsible, but he’s still going to leave us alone.
I place my hand over my stomach.
It will just be you and me, sweetheart.
Then again, that’s not entirely true. I still have my mom and dad, and now, I have the Northups. They can help me. If they learn to accept me, that is.
I let out a sigh. If I’m pregnant, I’ll need all the family I can get.
I get out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom, intent on finding Suzannah in hopes of finally making some headway with her. I’ve just started walking down the hall, though, when I hear a scream.
Chapter 22 ~ Stop the Bleeding
Rainier
As soon as I hear the scream, I run out of the gym.
My heart beats wildly in my throat. My thoughts race ahead to the source of the sound.
Is it Ellis? Is she hurt?
Fear grips my chest. What if whoever threatened Ellis decided to act again, and in a more harmful way this time?
Shit. I should never have let her out of my sight. I should never have allowed her to stay here. I should never have brought her here.
My thoughts screech to a halt along with my feet after I round the corner. Someone is on the floor but it isn’t Ellis. It’s a man. Norman. Judging from his position, he seems to have fallen down the stairs. He appears to have crashed into one of the reindeer on the railing, too, which is why one of its antlers is now buried in his shoulder.
I grimace. Not good.
The scream seems to have come from Christine, who’s now wailing in anguish as she kneels beside a shocked Norman. A few seconds later, Ellis appears. She gasps before running to his side.
“Norman?” she calls his name.
He doesn’t answer. He’s just staring blankly ahead.
“He’s in shock,” I say as I kneel beside Ellis.
I check Norman’s arm.
“The antler seems to have pierced his trapezius. I don’t see any broken bones.”
Ellis nods. “There’s no blood. The antler must be plugging the artery. He’ll bleed to death if we pull it out.”
True.
“But it can’t be left in. The wound has to be disinfected and closed.”
“We need to get him to an OR,” Ellis says.
I glance out the window. The snow seems to be pouring heavily today, more so than yesterday, which means the roads are probably closed. A chopper couldn’t fly in or out, either.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” I say.
“Please don’t let him die,” Christine begs.
“Who’s dying?” I hear Vivian’s voice from the stairs.
A few seconds later, I see her and she sees Norman. As soon as she does, her legs give way and she, too, screams.
“Go help your mother,” I tell Christine.
She doesn’t move.
“Go!” I admonish her. “Ellis and I will take care of Norman.”
“We’ll do everything we can to save him,” Ellis promises.
Christine slowly stands up.
I turn my head and see some maids standing a few feet away, seemingly paralyzed with fear.
“Call some men and look for something we can carry Norman in,” I tell them. “We have to get him to a room.”
“We’re moving him?” Ellis asks.
“Very carefully,” I say. “We can’t operate on him here.”
“We’re operating?”
I look at Ellis and see the fear in her eyes. And I understand it. I don’t want to operate anywhere other than an OR either, but we don’t have a choice. If we don’t take this antler out, Norman could die.