Pain shakes me from sleep. The mother of all cramps is raising hell in my uterus. My head throbs. The overpowering scent of antiseptic makes my nose twitch.
What the hell?
Snapping my eyes open, I find Rock sprawled out in a chair next to me, his hand wrapped tight around mine even in sleep.
It takes me a minute to remember what happened. How long have I been out? Uncomfortable, I shift, startling Rock awake.
The elation on his face is clear. Whatever happened was bad.
“What happened?”
“Baby—”
The door swishes open, and a nurse charges through. “Hey, chickie. Good to see you awake.” She’s friendly and checks me over with respectful efficiency. “Let me grab the doctor.”
My throat tightens and suddenly I’m flooded with tears. Rocks stands and awkwardly pulls me to his chest. “It’s okay, baby.”
The doctor explains about the pregnancy and the rupture. My mind is spinning. How did this happen?
“Can I still have children—after something like this?”
He’s the kind of doctor who’s chosen efficiency over a coddling bedside manner, so he doesn’t sugarcoat a thing. “There’s a good chance you may not be able to get pregnant again, and even if you do, your chances of this happening again are higher.”
Rock is stoic as he holds my hand and rubs my back the entire time.
Then the doctor mentions I shouldn’t try to conceive again for at least three or four months.
“Wait a second. Doctor, I wasn’t trying to get pregnant. I’m on the shot.”
The doctor falters. “How long ago?”
I glance at Rock and heat stings my cheeks. “Maybe eight weeks? They told me it was good for twelve.”
“Well, that changes things a little. Statistically…” He trails off. “Well, it’s very unusual. Get some rest. We’ll probably discharge you in the morning.”
As soon as he leaves, I burst into tears again. Rock’s right there soothing me. “Hush, baby, it’s going to be fine.”
“I may not be able to have children, Rock. I mean, I don’t even know if I want them, but having the option yanked away?”
“Hope, just worry about getting better. I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been such a selfish fuck, this wouldn’t have happened.”
With his head bowed and lips pressed against the back of my hand, he looks so sorrowful. I burst into tears again.
“You don’t have to stay.”
The stern expression on his face quiets me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The chipper nurse is back. “Honey, you’ve got a waiting room full of people out there. You feel like some visitors?”
My gaze bounces to Rock, and he squeezes my hand.
“Sure.”
Wrath swings in on his crutches first, bumping Rock out of the way to drop a kiss on my forehead, then throws himself down in the chair next to my bed. “Sugar, you gave us all some scare,” he grumbles at me.
I’m so touched I start weeping again. Rock glares at Wrath.
Z comes in with a scowl in place. “What the hell did you say to her, jerk?” he barks at Wrath.
The distressed look on Wrath’s face makes me cry even harder. Darting his gaze between Rock and Z, he spreads his hands out palm up.
“It’s not you.” I sniffle.
Sophie pokes her head in and rushes to my side. “You scared the fuck out of me, buttercup!”
“What are you doing here?”
She shoots a glance at Rock. “Honey, I drove up from Delaware the second he called me.”
“Thanks, Sophie.”
“Lilly was here too, but she had to run. She wanted you to have this, though.” Sophie sets a petite vase of tulips on the table next to me.
“I’m gonna let you get some rest, sweetie.” She turns to Rock. “Call me if you need something?”
He nods, and she takes off.
“Thanks for staying with Rock, you guys,” I choke out.
Wrath and Z share a look.
“Trin will be back a little later,” Rock says.
On the verge of tears again, I gulp in big lungfuls of air.
“Breathe, baby doll,” Rock reminds me.
He glares down at Wrath, who’s made himself comfortable in the stiff hospital recliner and shows no sign of moving. “What?”
“Asshole,” Rock grumbles.
Wrath’s impish grin when Rock storms to the other side of the room to pull over a chair makes me laugh. Then he winks, and I really lose it.
“Prez, you need me to do anything?” Z asks from his corner.
“No—aw, fuck. Her car and my bike are probably still downtown.”
Z seems relieved to have something to do. “I’ll take care of it. Keys?”
After he leaves, the three of us fall silent. Well, Wrath starts snoring. Rock shakes his head.
“Has he been here all night?” I whisper.
Rock nods. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“You’re family now, babe,” Wrath mumbles without opening his eyes.
Trinity finally returns with pizza for everyone, which the nurse promises to ignore. Teller, Murphy, and Heidi join us. Still nauseous from the pain meds, my girl is only able to nibble on some crackers.
After we eat, Hope gets a round of kisses, and everyone takes off. Trinity even manages to get Wrath to leave Hope’s side and go home with her.
Hope is still pale, and I’m relieved when she finally drops off to sleep.
Early the next morning, the doctor comes in to check on her. After he’s finished, she falls back into sleep, and he pulls me into the hallway.
“We’re going to keep her one more day.”
A crack of fear splinters through me. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“She’s doing well. But she lost a lot of blood, and I’m not comfortable releasing her so soon.”
I blow out a breath, relieved they’re not just gonna toss her out. Honestly, I haven’t a clue if she even has health insurance.
The rough way I handled my girl the other night has been banging around in my skull. I can’t stop thinking somehow I did something to cause this.
“Doc…” Shit, I have no idea how to frame what I want to say without sounding like an abusive dickwad. “We… I didn’t know she was pregnant. Could, ah, could I have somehow caused what happened?”
He cocks his head at me, clearly not getting my meaning. Jesus fuck, I’m gonna have to spell it out for him. Even as I’m running my hands through my hair, I don’t break eye contact with the man. “A couple nights ago, we had sex. Pretty intense—”
He stops me with a hand on my arm. “No, Mr. North. In a normal pregnancy, the fertilized egg would have moved into her uterus. With this, the egg stayed in the fallopian tube, so no, vigorous sex wouldn’t cause this. Did she complain of any pain?”
I mentally run over that night, trying to remember anything I missed.
“No.”
He nods once. “You didn’t cause it, so put it out of your head. Ectopic pregnancies only happen maybe one in every fifty pregnancies, but the fact that she was on a reliable method of birth control is concerning. I’ve conferred with her gynecologist.”
I don’t really care about that end of things. All I’m thinking of is taking care of my girl. Getting her back to the clubhouse and smothering the fuck out of her.
“You should really go home and get some rest.” He doesn’t say it with much authority. Probably because the look on my face makes it clear I’m not going anywhere.
“I can’t leave her.”
He nods once before leaving. “I’ll be back to check on her later.”
After he leaves, I lean against the wall, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. The doc was telling me the odds of this happening are apparently zilch. It hits me that a lot of bad shit has happened to my girl since I came into her life. I’ve done so many awful things in my thirty-eight years on this planet; I figure my karmic debt
is huge. But Hope? I can’t imagine she’s ever willingly hurt another living creature. She’s such a loving, caring soul. It seems awfully unfair for karma to fuck with her for the shit I’ve done.
Rock’s grave expression when he enters the room tightens the knot in my chest.
Even rumpled from sleeping in the chair, he’s so handsome.
Somehow we made a baby. I had his child inside me. This perfect man who loves me and would protect me with his life. And I lost it. I didn’t even know, but the loss echoes through me.
Is this my fault? I’ve been so indecisive about having children. I probably don’t deserve to be a mother.
The thought that I could lose Rock because I’m defective in some way terrifies me. He’s the picture of male virility. A hard man in his prime. Men like him want to reproduce, don’t they? It’s a miracle he doesn’t already have a bunch of kids running around by now.
The way he protects everyone he loves, I know he’d be an amazing father.
I can’t stop thinking I failed him somehow, and I hate it.
The next morning I find myself in the hallway with the doctor again. “She’s going to be sore for the next two to three days, so she needs as much rest as possible.”
“Okay.”
The doc eyes me skeptically. I gotta say I’m happy we’re leaving. The suspicious looks I get every time he pays Hope a visit are getting old. The fact that he’s answered all my questions and seems to be taking good care of my girl are the only things keeping all his teeth intact.
“In about two to three weeks, she should be fully recovered. At least physically,” he clarifies.
“She’s been crying at everything, doc. That normal?”
“Yes. Her body is going to be flooded with hormones. She may cry in spurts for up to six weeks. Keep an eye on her. If it seems worse, take her to her regular doctor. Does she have any history of depression?”
Although I suspect she does, I don’t have anything concrete. “She lost her husband a while ago, and from what her friends described, she had a rough time.”
For the first time since I’ve been dealing with this guy, his professional doctor mask slips. “Well, keep an eye on her. It will be normal for her to be sad and fatigued, but if it goes on for too long, she needs to talk to someone.”
“Okay.”
He sighs. “I’d limit her interactions with people for at least a few days. Let her grieve and process. Don’t let her get overwhelmed. Her friends might mean well, but unless she asks, I’d screen her calls and visits.”
Shit. That’s a tough one. I’d been planning to care for her up at the clubhouse, but there’s not a lot of privacy there.
“I can do that,” I assure him.
He nods and pushes his way inside. Hope’s awake but clearly still out of it.
“Okay, Ms. Kendall. We’re going to discharge you today. It will take a little while to get the paperwork done. The nurse will bring you your written instructions and the prescriptions.”
I listen to every word because I’m going to make damn sure I take the best care of my girl.
The doctor stops and levels a stern look at me. “No sexual intercourse for at least two weeks.”
We’re back to this.
Next to me, I feel Hope twitch, and I imagine she’s red with embarrassment, but I don’t turn away from the doctor. He seems to be challenging me. I’m not a fucking animal.
“Since the shot failed, you must use a barrier method for at least the next three to four months.” He raises an eyebrow at me. As if I don’t feel shitty enough. “You said you weren’t trying to get pregnant, so you should discuss what other options are available with your regular OB/GYN when you’re ready. They’ll probably suggest some sort of oral contraceptive in addition to a barrier method.”
Hope sort of wrinkles her nose, which makes me want to laugh. Instead, I rub my hand over her back.
He rattles off more instructions, some of which frankly are more than I ever needed to know. I pray like fuck someone is going to hand us this shit in writing.
After the doctor leaves, Hope seems to be a little more with it. She gets up and sorts through the clothes Trinity brought her last night. Holding up a pair of jeans, she winces. “No fucking way,” she says, pointing to her belly.
Lifting up her hospital gown, she angles and turns in front of the bathroom mirror. “God, I look disgusting.”
“Don’t talk about my girl that way.”
I get a small smirk out of her.
After a lot of indecision, she finally settles on a loose pair of sweatpants that I help her into. She still yelps when the material touches her tummy.
“Sorry, baby,” I mutter.
“Hey,” she says, placing a hand on my arm. “Thank you so much.”
Entwining my fingers with hers, I bring her hand up and run my lips over her knuckles. “What are you thanking me for?”
“For staying with me.”
I have to take a deep breath. Here she is thanking me when it’s my fucking fault this happened in the first place. “Baby doll, you don’t ever have to thank me for that. I love you.”
She presses a soft kiss against my lips, then turns to finish getting ready.
The nurse stops in and confidentially informs me to pick up some Gas-X on the way home.
Jesus Christ.
Z meets us at the curb with my SUV. The orderly helps me get Hope out of her wheelchair. Once she’s up, I swing her into my arms and settle in the backseat with her.
Z reaches back and gives her hand a squeeze. “Let’s get you outta here, girl.”
“Z, drop us off at my place,” Rock directs.
“No problem.”
I’m excited to be out of the hospital, but I’m also exhausted. It’s possible I doze for the few minutes it takes to get to Rock’s house.
Rock wants to carry me inside, but I brush off his hands.
“The doctor said I needed to walk a little,” I remind him. I’m embarrassed to be hobbling around like an arthritic bird in front of Z, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You hungry, doll?” Rock asks as soon as we’re inside.
I think about it for a second. All I am is tired. “No.”
I don’t get to protest this time as Rock gently lifts me into his arms. “Wait here,” he tells Z. He carries me upstairs and settles me in the bedroom. “I’ll ask Z to run out for some things. Anything you feel like having?”
“Toast and butter?”
“That’s it?”
My stomach rolls at the thought of eating anything else. “Yeah.”
Rock brushes my hair off my face. “Rest. You need anything, call me,” he says, setting my phone on the nightstand.
“You’re going out?”
“No. Hell no. I’ll be downstairs working on some stuff. I just don’t want you havin’ to yell or risk not hearing you.”
“Okay.” I can’t keep my eyes open another minute. As I drift off, I’m vaguely aware of Rock moving around the room.
It’s almost dark when I wake up. I don’t feel rested, but I get up and run to the bathroom. The house is quiet. A quick glance out the window shows me nothing. Crawling back under the covers, I contemplate calling Rock. I don’t need anything so I hate to bug him.
This is stupid. Snatching up the phone, I send him a quick text.
I’m awake.
Rock’s filling the doorway not three minutes later.
“What do you need, baby doll?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry. Were you busy?” He walks into the room, and I get a better look at him. Grease-stained jeans and hands. “Were you working on something?”
“Yeah. Give me a second to clean up.”
“Okay.”
He strips off his T-shirt as he strides into the bathroom.
“You can do that out here,” I call after him.
He pokes his head out. “What?”
“You can get undressed out here, where I can watch,” I say with a smal
l smile.
He flashes a grin at me and ducks back into the bathroom.
“I wasn’t joking,” I grumble.
“What?” he calls out over the sound of the shower starting up.
“Nothing!” I shout back.
He emerges damp and sexy, towel wrapped around his lean hips.
And gets dressed.
“Okay. All yours.”
Feeling uncertain, I just stare at him until he comes closer. Then I throw back the covers and pat the bed.
The corners of his mouth lift as he slides in next to me and gathers me in his arms. A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding rushes out of me.
Rock’s big hand strokes over my head and down my back. “Got your meds downstairs. Ready to eat something so you can take ‘em?”
My arm wraps around his middle and I cling to him for a while. Enjoying the thump of his heart under my ear. He runs one hand over my back and one up and down the arm I have wrapped around him.
“You wanna talk, baby doll?” he asks after a few minutes.
I do. But I don’t know what to say. Overwhelming grief and guilt consume me, but I don’t know how to express it to him. There’s also a part of me that’s afraid of what he’ll say.
“Hope?” he prompts.
The lump in my throat makes it impossible to force out any words. Finally, I manage to whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“‘Bout what?”
I don’t know how to phrase what I want to say. “You remember… I’m not… I wasn’t sure I ever wanted children.” Now that I got part of it out, I’m determined to push out the rest. “But your… our baby. Even though I didn’t know, it still hurts. I would have wanted—”
His arms pull me against him, his touch easing the ache in my chest. “Hope, honey, stop please. You’re the only woman I’ve ever thought about having kids with. But you know, when you were in surgery, they explained to me the way it happened. The baby couldn’t survive. I was so fuckin’ scared I was gonna lose you.”
I’m not sure what he means. Does he think I’m making too big a deal out of this loss? “If… if it hadn’t. If…” Oh my God, I know what I want to ask, but I just can’t form the question. “Would you have been happy? If things had been different? Would you have wanted—”