by Lena Hart
****
The gunshot was loud and distinct in the small apartment.
It was as if someone had wrenched out his heart and he stopped breathing. Carlos didn’t remember moving, only that he was now straddling Ken and ramming his fist into his face.
There was a dull buzzing in his ear as he brought his fist down, again and again. But he felt nothing, he heard nothing.
Something wet sprayed across his face but still he didn’t stop. Not even when strong hands grabbed his arms and began pulling him away from the now still body.
With a vicious growl, he wrenched free, but was immediately thrown on his side and locked into a submission hold.
“Damn it, Carlos! Calm down. You’re gonna fucking kill him.”
It took a moment for Tristan’s voice to pierce through his rage. That’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to kill the bastard. But a glimpse of Judith, knelt across the room, stilled his bloodlust and he briefly shut his eyes as immense relief washed over him.
She wasn’t dead.
“Get the hell off me, Tristan,” he growled, tugging on the arm around his neck.
Tristan hesitated but eventually released him. Carlos shoved away from him and started toward her then froze, paralyzed by the blood on her face. Her wide eyes stared up at him, dazed.
The look on her face jarred him as he helped her to her feet. He couldn’t speak.
God, baby, I’m sorry.
He had promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to her and he had failed her.
Tristan came up beside them, cell phone in hand. A low groan came from Ken and they all turned to look at the man who still lay on the ground. For the first time Carlos saw the damage he’d done. Blood covered the man’s face and shirt, and the swelling around his eyes began to force them shut.
But it wasn’t enough.
Judith dug her nails into his forearm as another groan came from the man. Incredible rage filled him at her distress, and it propelled him to action. The gun was a few feet away from his body and Carlos calmly walked over and picked it up.
“Carlos?”
He couldn’t be sure who had called out to him, keeping his gaze down on the son-of-a-bitch who had terrorized his woman, who had tried to kill her. Images of Judith bruised and bloody, of the crushed and twisted car, of her fighting for her life in the hospital, filled his head.
He remembered the way she trembled against him when she told him about that night, the way her voice trembled when she confessed her fear of this bastard. And he couldn’t shake the rage or the helplessness of watching that son-of-a-bitch put his hand inside…
With icy calm, Carlos raised the gun to the man’s head.
“Carlos!”
Judith’s scream jolted him out of his deadly resolve. But only enough for him to realize he didn’t want her to see this.
“Tristan, get her out of here,” he said over his shoulder, unable to look at her without his fury consuming him.
“Carlos,” Tristan began, taking tentative steps toward him. “I can’t let you do this. Now put the fucking gun down and let me call this in.”
He glanced at his cousin, vaguely registering his shock and the cell phone poised in his hand. Carlos shook his head.
“I have to do this,” he said, returning his attention to the man whose bloodied face glared up at him with cold, hollow eyes.
Tristan was at his side now. “No, what you need to do is go to Judith. Go to her, man. She needs you right now.”
Carlos turned to her and sucked in his breath.
The horrified look on her face as she stared at him was his undoing. He handed his cousin the gun and went to her. To his immense relief, she didn’t flinch away from him when he gently pulled her into his arms. He never wanted to see that look on her face again.
He never wanted her to look at him like that again.
Chapter Seventeen
His head felt heavy.
Carlos rested his head in his hands as he sat in the hospital waiting room. He was only down the hall from Judith’s room, but he was eager to get back. It had been a long night last night, but he hadn’t left her side since. Unfortunately, he’d been forced out while she gave her statement to a detective. With the situation the way it was—an illegal weapon with his prints on it and Tate in the neighboring hospital being treated for his injuries—the officer would not allow them to be together while she gave her account of what happened.
He realized he hadn’t left the hospital since they’d brought her in last night. Carlos glanced at the time and cursed. He pulled out his cell and dialed David Carrone.
As soon as the man answered, Carlos said without preamble. “I won’t be meeting with you today.”
There was a brief pause before David responded. “What happened?”
“I’m at the hospital with Judith.”
Carlos told him about her attack last night—just enough to fill him in on her situation without going into detail about her past. He also explained Judith’s forced involvement with the break-in, and what Tristan had found about their latest investment company, Diamante Enterprises.
“Shit,” David muttered.
“What?” Carlos had planned to tell him all this at their face-to-face meeting today, but it couldn’t wait and quite frankly, his concentration was on far more important matters.
“I met with one of the owners last night,” David said. “Rachelle Silva. Evidently she needs my help and I never thought to link her company to the break-in.”
Carlos frowned. “Help with what?”
David released a heavy sigh. “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when you get back.” He paused before asking, “When will you be back in?”
“I don’t know,” Carlos said. “I’m not leaving her.”
Carlos knew his boss had suspected something between them and if his latest actions only raised a few suspicions against him, Carlos didn’t care. He’d already been prepared to resign. It would be up to David to decide if he wanted him to finish out the month.
“Look, I understand Judith must have felt backed into a corner,” David said. “And I hope she pulls through. But you have to understand that if it turns out the company was compromised in any way from what she did, you won’t be able to protect her.”
Carlos clenched his jaw. “She’s already been through enough, Carrone. If you need to pin this on someone, then pin it on me.”
David was silent for a moment. “Well then, until we get this mess straightened out, I guess I’ll just have to rip up your resignation letter.”
Carlos ended the call, and for a minute he wondered if he’d just been duped into keeping his job at Royal Courts. He shook his head ruefully. Guess he had.
“She still in there?” Tristan asked, taking the empty seat beside him.
He nodded. Silence fell between them. He knew his cousin was shouldering a lot of the guilt for what had happened last night. Carlos wanted to be mad at his cousin for not monitoring Tate better, but Carlos knew that wasn’t fair of him. His cousin had gone above and beyond for him these past few days and he couldn’t take that for granted.
“About last night,” Tristan began.
“If you’re going to apologize,” Carlos interrupted, “Save it. It wasn’t your job to babysit Tate. You stopped me from killing a man last night so whatever guilt you’re still carrying, let it go. I’m carrying enough of that for both of us.”
It had been Kenneth Tate’s parole officer who had exaggerated his visits with Tate on his reports. The man, who blamed his case load on the mishap, hadn’t even realized Tate had left California a few days ago. Apparently the now terminated PO had been prioritizing his cases by convictions—the bigger the crime, the more attention he paid the criminal. Unfortunately, Kenneth Tate and his conviction hadn’t warranted much of his attention.
A heavy weariness began to settle in him and Carlos rubbed his hand over his jaw. He was grateful that last night hadn’t resulted in any fatalities. From Ta
te’s hands—or his. The look on Judith’s face when he’d held that gun in his hand was burned in Carlos’ memory. He hated that she had seen him lose control like that.
****
“How’s your shoulder?”
Carlos squeezed her hand. Judith didn’t think he’d let go of her since they’d arrived at the hospital. And the few times he had, he hadn’t gone far.
“It’s better.”
She sat on the edge of the hospital bed, chilled in just the thin gown they had given her to wear. He had stopped rubbing his shoulder so the medicine the nurse had given him must have helped. His knuckles, however, were still red and bruised.
Now that the shock from last night had worn off, Judith could think again. She barely remembered the report she had given the detective that morning. Thankfully, Tristan had taken care of most of it so everything after had been a formality. Apparently, they had Ken in custody at another hospital, while he recovered from his injuries. After he was released, he would face additional charges along with his parole violation.
“How’s Prince?” She had worried about her poor cat all last night, scared that the stray bullet had hit him and no one had known.
“He’s fine,” Carlos assured her. “Tristan brought him to my place and I’m sure he’s enjoying having the place all to himself.”
Relief washed over her and she smiled at the thought.
“How are you feeling?” Carlos asked.
Judith smiled reassuringly at him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady heartbeat there. “Better.”
She was lucky to have found him and to know his love. Having him in her life shined a light on a life that had been dimmer than she’d been willing to admit. Until last night, when she’d been faced with the possibility of never seeing him again, she hadn’t realized how much Carlos truly meant to her. He fought hard, but loved harder.
Looking up at his strong, tired face, she placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him again. She wanted to tell him what was in her heart, but the lump in her throat was too big.
“Carlos, I…,” her voice broke.
Warmth and understanding flashed in his dark eyes as he looked down at her. “I know, baby,” He placed a light kiss on her lips. “I love you too.”
She tightened her grip on his hands, not wanting to ever let go. She still couldn’t believe she was alive. That she was still here—with him. Last night, when she’d heard the gun go off, she’d been sure it had hit her—that she would bleed to death on her apartment floor.
But she hadn’t.
She hadn’t even been hit. The extent of her injuries had been the scalp wound she had gotten from hitting the mirror. Though it had been stitched, the doctors had wanted to keep her overnight for testing and observation, to make sure she hadn’t suffered any trauma from the head injury.
Before they had performed the tests, they had asked her standard medical history questions and she had to disclose her birth name so they could pull up her past medical records.
Now, she and Carlos waited for the doctors’ to let her know if she would be released today. She had enough memories of nights in the hospital. It would make her smile that much bigger if she could leave tonight.
Carlos, however, didn’t share in her relief. Guilt and fatigue etched across his face. No amount of her reassuring him that it wasn’t his or Tristan’s fault didn’t seem to ease his burden.
She accepted that last night had been necessary. She had been running from her past, afraid of what would come—of what it might do to her—if she was forced to face her fears. Now that she had, she realized she was a fighter.
Ken had tried, but failed, to take her life again and for the past five years she had functioned as if he had. He may have changed it, but he hadn’t taken it. And for the first time, Judith felt as if she’d finally reclaimed it.
She had faced her demon and survived. Twice.
“Ms. Bell?”
Judith turned to the door. Her doctor and another friendly face in white scrubs entered the room. Both women appeared young though the second doctor had a maturity about her that said she may be older than she looked.
“How are you feeling?”
“Ready to go home.”
Her doctor nodded. “Well your results came back and as far as I can see, every thing’s fine, so we can certainly make that happen.”
Judith shoulders sagged in relief.
“However, there was something that came up in your results that we wanted to discuss with you.” Her doctor glanced at Carlos. “In private.”
What reprieve Judith felt before vanished at the doctor’s words. How could everything be fine if whatever she needed to speak to her about sounded so…ominous? She turned to Carlos. He was tensed beside her—and he didn’t look happy about the doctor’s words either.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked her, ignoring the doctors standing across from them.
Judith turned to the women. “Is it okay if he stays?”
They shared a look, but her doctor shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
Judith squeezed Carlos’ hand. Whatever the doctor had to tell her, she wanted him near. His presence was a calm comfort to her.
The younger looking doctor took a step toward her. “At our hospital, it’s policy to run all standard tests, including pregnancy, for our female patients. Now, before we ran your tests, you informed the nurse that you weren’t pregnant, but your test results show that you are.”
Judith gaped at the woman. “Are you sure? We’ve only been—” She blushed, not ready to go into detail about their sex life. “How is that possible? They told me I couldn’t have children.”
The woman pursed her lips and nodded. “The urine test and hCG levels confirm that you are, but based on your medical history, the surgery to your pelvic region weakened your cervix.” She paused, glancing at Carlos again. “The surgery didn’t make it impossible for you to conceive, but it made it highly unlikely for you to carry a fetus to full-term.”
Judith couldn’t get over the shock. This wasn’t what she’d expected. She glanced at Carlos but his expression wasn’t one of astonishment or disbelief as she’d expected. It was of fierce possessiveness. But then, he had only just learned of her condition. She’d spent five years living with the idea that she would never be able to carry a life inside of her. Now the doctor was telling her she had been given this miracle?
The younger doctor gestured to the other woman. “This is Doctor Jan. She’s a specialist here at the hospital and she has taken a look at your files and can better explain it to you.”
“Ms. Bell,” the other woman began, “there are several options for women in your condition.”
The specialist proceeded to tell her about the harm a weakened cervix could cause her and the baby. She explained the procedure, a cervical cerclage, which would reinforce the cervix, but still leave her at high risk for losing the baby within her first trimester. Even after the procedure was performed, it still did not guarantee that she would have a successful pregnancy.
The casualness in the way the woman outlined the possible risks and complications annoyed Judith. The woman further drove home her point with numbers and statistics, yet none of that could take away from Judith’s elation.
She was pregnant. With Carlos’ baby.
Judith understood the doctors’ were only trying to present her with the realism of her situation, to force her to be practical, but she had something far more stronger on her side.
She had hope.
“The possibility of a premature rupture of the fetal membrane is quite high even during the second and third trimester,” the specialist said. “Though the decision is ultimately yours, Ms. Bell, it is my professional opinion that you terminate the pregnancy, while it’s still early.”
Judith sucked in her breath. “No.” She wanted to shout the words again, but clenched her teeth to keep from doing so. She had just learned of their baby and now the woman was telling her to get r
id of it?
Judith’s hand unconsciously went to her belly, as if she could shield it inside her by the mere touch.
She was just given a miracle. She wouldn’t willingly destroy it. No matter what.
“Judith, maybe you should take some time to think about this,” Carlos said.
She glanced at Carlos, surprised. Was he thinking she should go through with it?
“Carlos, I’m not aborting it.”
He squeezed her hand. “And I don’t want you to,” he said strongly. “But I don’t want you to risk your life trying to keep it either.” He cupped her chin and held her gaze. “I won’t lose you.”
“This is only a suggestion to spare you from a potential miscarriage or stillbirth,” the specialist added. “You could lose the baby tomorrow or next week or six months from now. And the greatest harm isn’t just physical. If you fail to carry this baby, the emotional and mental harm would be tremendous.”
Judith stared at the woman and, for the first time, detected a weary bitterness of someone who spoke from personal experience.
“My emotional and mental state wouldn’t be any better if I voluntarily destroyed it,” Judith said with an easy calm and finality she hoped would make them understand. “I’m not aborting my baby.”
With her other hand still clasp in Carlos’, she took their hands and placed it over her belly. Five years ago, she had to listen to doctors tell her she would never be able to have a baby. But they were wrong then and they could be wrong now.
Miracles were possible and her baby was proof of that.
She was going to have their baby.
****
Several days after her release from the hospital, Judith received the news that had left her numb with relief.
Ken was dead.
Officers had found him in his cell, a sheet wrapped tightly around his neck. He had ended his life. He’d left no note and no warning.
She couldn’t be happy about that. There was nothing to celebrate for anyone dying. Death was permanent. Final. But the relief that had passed through her over the news was unmistakable.
