Igniting the Wild Sparks

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Igniting the Wild Sparks Page 52

by Alexander, Ren


  “Maybe you do.”

  “He broke my heart. How can I ever forget…?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  “Well, Morgan seems to want you to move on. With Shane.”

  “Not happening. I feel nothing for him. He gives off the creepy vibe way more than even you do.”

  Rod nods with a shrewd smirk. “You got that, sister. He’s like an annoying fly buzzing over a rotting carcass.”

  “Am I the rotting carcass?”

  “Oh, yeah!” He giggles and smacks my arm.

  I rub my arm and grumble, “Thanks so much. How’s Eden?”

  “She’s doing better. Tabby said she watches the video of us dancing a lot. What a bitch.” I softly laugh, thinking of Eden and Rod’s sparring.

  Setting my food down on the table, I say, “Well, she must be a sucker for a good laugh.”

  “No doubt.”

  Getting up from the couch, I don’t make it two steps when a searing pain rips through my abdomen, dropping me to my hands and knees, leaving me heavily gasping and clutching my stomach. The pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. White-hot lightning is what comes to mind.

  Hazily, I hear Rod jump up from the couch. Within a second, he’s on his knees next to me, his hand on my back. “Hadders, what’s wrong?”

  Moaning, I desperately cling to his arm. I can’t even speak. The pain tears through me again and I loudly squeal. He asks, “Is it your bruise?” Confused, I nod and shake my head. I have no idea.

  “Let me get you up on the couch.” He stands and tries to help me to my feet, and I pull up on him, but the pain slashes through me again and I fall back down.

  “You can’t get up?” He sounds completely alarmed, which alarms me even more. I shake my head, wheezing for breath. He firmly states, “There is something seriously wrong with that bruise.” That’s when I think of what my dad said after Easter about Jared having appendicitis and how it runs in the family. Plus, I did get hit with a softball near that general region. That’s not good, either. Shit.

  I stutteringly cry, “Appendix!” The sharp pains oddly ease up slightly, but threaten to return at any second.

  “Are you going to fight me if I take you to the hospital?”

  I frantically shake my head. Rod hurriedly goes to the kitchen to grab his car keys and runs back to once more help me stand up. As he does, the pain grabs me again and I loudly shriek. Briefly looking undecided, he gently, but quickly, sweeps me up and carries me out of his apartment, down two flights of concrete stairs to his truck, somewhat struggling to open the door before carefully sliding me into the passenger seat.

  On our way to the hospital, I can only sit curled. If I straighten, the pain is worse, just like after I was hit. Although still looming, the pain seems to level some with only intermittent, blinding pain.

  Not able to walk much, Rod carries me into the all-too-familiar ER.

  They give me a clipboard of paperwork to fill out. Really? I guess I did wait with a broken wrist, so what’s agonizing stomach pain? Fortunately, after sitting me in a chair, they call me within a few minutes.

  A black-haired nurse in navy blue scrubs does the usual assessing. She also plays with my stomach, as did the previous nurse when I was here last time. She questions about my bruise and Rod has to fill her in when I can’t talk.

  “Appendicitis runs in my family,” I whisper, as if the pain is a sleeping beast.

  “Make sure you tell the doctor that.” She takes my blood pressure and temperature without remarks. When she’s finished, she tells me she’ll be back.

  As I lie on my side in a ball, Rod asks, “Do you want me to call Morgan?”

  “You can tell her, but she doesn’t need to be here.”

  He rolls his eyes. “You know she’ll want to be, though.” Rod texts her and he’s right, of course. Again.

  A blonde, male doctor wearing glasses enters and asks me some more repetitive questions before telling me to lie on my back so he can examine my lower quadrant. I know Rod is laughing on the inside over that suggestion. I’ll have to remember to ask him if he’ll use that line on dates. Unfortunately, he probably will.

  Rod grabs my hand to help me slowly roll from my fetal position. The doctor then pushes down below my bruise, above my hipbone. “Does that hurt?”

  “Some.”

  “But that’s not where the pain is localized?” I shake my head and he moves his hand closer to my bruise and lightly presses. I yell and dig my nails into Rod, who in turn, screeches louder than I do.

  The doctor says, “Could be your appendix. I want you to have an ultrasound to check. I also want to check your blood and urine for abnormalities. A nurse will be back to collect those for me before your ultrasound.” He leaves the room and Rod frenziedly waves his hand in the air from the claw marks.

  “Shit!” He dances around and then laughs. “Collect your piss? That guy needs a hobby. I bet he has all the ladies clamoring for his number.” I want to laugh, but I’m afraid the piercing pain will return if I do, so I bite down on my lip hard, and close my eyes.

  The nurse eventually comes in with a clear cup and helps me off the gurney. She and Rod then walk me across the hall to the bathroom where I have the most painful pee of my life. The squatting and the act of urinating itself are unbearable. How’d this suddenly come on? I was okay earlier. I was crampy most of the day, but I sometimes have random days like that, so it’s not unusual for me. Even though my dad and brother have had problems with appendicitis, I guess I’ve never given actually having it much thought.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Rod holds onto my arm and guides me back to the room, while the nurse transports my pee somewhere. Rod picks me up again to place me on the bed. The nurse then returns with a cart and tells me she’s going to draw blood.

  Rod asks her, “You don’t hang from belfries, too, do you?”

  She raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Well, aren’t you adorable?”

  Grinning, he shrugs. “That’s what they tell me.” Rod. Making friends wherever he goes…except when he steals office supplies from Crick or breathes the same air as Morgan.

  “No belfries, but I do glitter in the sunlight.”

  He giggles. “I see where you’re going with that.”

  I turn away as the vamp nurse sucks my blood. When she’s finished, she says, “The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes. Then, I’ll have you taken to Ultrasound.” Sure. A few minutes. I’ve been here before, lady.

  While Rod and I wait, he answers a text from Morgan. He then starts investigating the equipment in the room. Nothing like Finn did when he was here. He was so nervous.

  Not Rod.

  “Do you think a lot of people have died in this room?”

  I cringe. “I don’t know! Shut up!”

  Contrite, Rod sucks air between his teeth. “Oh. Sorry. You’re not dying, though. Geesh.” He removes a rubber glove from a box on the wall and starts blowing it up like a balloon. When it’s fully inflated, he puts it on top of his head.

  “Look I’m a fucking rooster!”

  I try hard not to laugh. “I hate you.”

  “No, this is a fucking rooster.” He chicken struts to the counter and dry humps it.

  Holding my stomach, I say, “I really hate you.”

  He laughs and takes the glove off his head, only to slowly release air from it, making rude, squeaking noises. I greatly implore, “Will you stop? It hurts to laugh, you moron!”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” He lets the glove go and it noisily deflates at his feet. He sighs. “The mocking sound of my loneliness,” he announces forlornly. I giggle, but another sharp pain lights me up and I gasp.

  “Sorry, Hadders. I’m such a jackass.”

  I nod, blowing out the pain. “You are.”

  The blonde doctor walks into the room, interrupting Rod’s bizarre descent into despair. Opening the folder he’s holding, he leans against the counter.
“Hadley, I have your urinalysis. Do you want some privacy?” He discerningly glances at Rod.

  “No, he’s okay.” …despite appearances.

  “Well, it’s not your appendix.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “You are pregnant.”

  Rod shouts, “What?”

  The doctor looks up from his folder. “Are you the father?”

  Rod avidly shakes his head. “Not that I know of!”

  “What?” I ask, shocked and awed. “I can’t be. I just had my period about two weeks ago.”

  “Probably not your period. Was it lighter than normal?”

  “Maybe only a little.”

  “Still, it most likely was breakthrough bleeding, when the fertilized egg implanted into the uterine lining.” He looks at my stomach and says, “I am concerned with the acute pain you’re having. Although, some pain is normal for early pregnancy, I want to be sure it’s progressing as it should. How’s the pain now?”

  “It’s a constant ache, but manageable until I have an extremely sharp jab every so often.”

  “Okay. We need to get you checked right away.”

  “Do you know how far along I am?”

  He flips through the folder and pulls out a wheel-like piece of cardboard. “When was the first day of your last period, not counting the one you said you just had?”

  “Um, wow. It was the first week of April. Not sure which day.”

  “Well, I can give you an estimate. You are roughly 10 weeks pregnant. You conceived…” If I had to guess, it would’ve been around Easter when Finn was being more daring than he’s ever been. Surprise blind sex at Bethany’s? Outdoor sex under the stars? Easter morning sex after pancakes? Possibly one of those times is when Finn Wilder and I made a baby.

  As he looks, I ask, “Easter?”

  “Actually, no. It would’ve been the week before Easter.”

  “It can’t be. I was using birth control then.”

  “What kind?”

  “Spermicide or condoms.”

  “Not together?”

  “No.” I glance at Rod and he’s biting his lip. I know he wants to laugh.

  I ask the doctor, “Why?”

  “Spermicide shouldn’t be used alone. It’s only 80 percent effective by itself and you have to replace it each time you have intercourse. If you used it alone that week, then you have the reason why you conceived.”

  Oh, how embarrassing. I feel like I’m in health class and I just horribly failed an oral pop quiz.

  Rod says, “Technically, I don’t think it was the gel that got her pregnant.” The doctor chuckles with Rod as I gape at both of them.

  Beyond astonished, I say, “I can’t believe I didn’t know I was pregnant. I thought I had my period.”

  “You may have had some symptoms and not realized it. Fatigue, nausea, weight loss or gain, headaches, food cravings or aversions. There are many symptoms you could have had and not realized why or even noticed that you were experiencing them out of the ordinary.”

  “I’ve been tired, nauseous and have lost weight,” I mumble. I thought it was because of other things.

  “That happens a lot in the early stages. Any other questions?” I quickly shake my head and he smiles. “I’ll have them come get you for the ultrasound.” He writes in his folder and leaves the room.

  Rod covers his mouth and looks down at me. “Hadders, holy shit! You and Wilder actually had sex?” He giggles and I turn my head. I can’t even joke around about this since I’m now in this bittersweet predicament.

  I have a baby, but not my Sparks.

  As that chokes me, I whisper, “Oh, my God.” My hand goes to my stomach and I cry.

  “Aw, Hadders, it’s okay.” He grabs my hand and leans down onto his elbows next to me. “It’ll be great. We’ll find Greg Jr. a good school where they won’t judge him for the impeccable clothes he wears.” My fingers dig into his skin and he yelps, “Ow, woman!” He stands, but I still hold onto his hand as I blankly stare at the stark white wall in front of me.

  He suddenly snickers. “You thought it was Easter? So, you were getting down and dirty on a holy day? You must’ve really liked his tattoo. Whore.” He giggles and I huff a small laugh, while rubbing at the pain.

  “I got pregnant the week before Easter?” I disbelievingly ask nobody in particular since Rod’s no help. “That means—”

  “He knocked you up during your celebratory fuck after his race.” I scowl up at his amused face, but I know he’s right. “Or, what about when you were late for the kite festival the next morning?” He snorts. “Hadley Beckett, you are a real skank.” No. We used a condom then. It was definitely after the race. The night he gave me my ring…that I threw at him.

  I scrub at my wet cheeks and crack a smile. “Thanks, ass clown.”

  Rod reaches for my hand and says, “Seriously. Do you want me to go with you to the ultrasound or wait outside?”

  I tearfully plead, “Don’t leave me, Greg.”

  He shakes his head and gives me a reassuring smile. “I won’t. I promise.” We’re quiet until he asks, “Do you want me to tell Morticia? She’s probably in the waiting room by now.”

  Another pain hits, forcing me to squeeze his hand and bite my lip through more discomfort before wheezing, “Yeah.”

  “Uh, shit. Do you want me to…?”

  I close my eyes and gradually nod. “Yes. Tell Finn.” I think he’d want to know.

  “Okay.” Rod lets go of my hand and I open my eyes. He sits near the gurney and starts texting. I’m curious to how he’s going to tell Finn.

  “Yo, Wilder. The woman you used to fuck on the weekends is now your baby mamma.”

  I amend, “I’ll talk to him in person. Just get him on the phone and tell him to come over to my apartment tonight.”

  He distractedly says, “Okay.” Then, comprehending what I said, he adds, “Not alone, though. I’ll be there, too.” I smile at Rod as he continues tapping on his phone.

  When he’s done sending his message to Morgan, he puts the phone up to his ear, but after a few seconds, he frowns. He pulls the phone down, taps the screen and tries again, telling me, “It’s saying the number is no longer in service. Maybe there’s something wrong with his phone. I’ll tell Morticia to try him at work. It’ll keep her busy.”

  “The number is in my phone, but I don’t have it with me.”

  “I’m sure she can find the station’s number online or something.” He again texts Morgan. I guess he tries to avoid hearing her voice as much as possible.

  The nurse returns and says she wants me to get into a gown. She eyes Rod. Sensing us staring at him, he glances up from his phone, his brown eyes dart back and forth, and he feigns hurt. “What? That’s not part of the show?”

  I sit up and grumble, “Out.”

  “Jeez. You help people…” he jokingly pouts. Shoving his phone into his back pocket he imparts, “I shall return.”

  The nurse helps me change and I’m glad because I’m too physically sore and mentally numb to attempt doing it myself.

  I’m pregnant.

  Another human is growing inside me. Finn’s baby. Finn got me pregnant. His baby is in my belly, a baby that we made together with our love…or the love we used to have. It’s all so much to comprehend that I have to keep repeating all of this until it finally sinks into my brain.

  He said he was trying to get me pregnant, but when did he change his mind exactly? Was it after our Easter night blowup? Yet, he was ditching a condom before then. Regardless, I’m positive he wasn’t trying to get me pregnant after his race.

  I wonder what Finn Wilder will say when he finds out he’s a father.

  Will he be happy? What does this mean for us as a newly estranged couple?

  When I’m changed, a brunette orderly arrives to escort me to Ultrasound. As I’m wheeled out to the hall, Rod meets us.

  “Morgan is working on getting ahold of Wilder.”

  I whisper, “Thanks.”<
br />
  “It’ll be okay, Hadders.

  When I’m in the small curtained-off area, the orderly helps me move to the examining table. The blonde, female technician looks at Rod and then back to me. “This is a transvaginal ultrasound. Is he the father?” Rod? That’s funny.

  Rod teasingly scoffs, “I wouldn’t sleep with this chick even if we were sewn into a sleeping bag together.”

  The woman raises her eyebrows in bafflement, but I only roll my eyes and tell her, “Definitely not the father. He’s my friend.”

  She glances down to my legs and explains, “It’s an invasive procedure. Do you want him in here with you?”

  “Um, yeah. He’ll just turn his head.” It does feel weird to be in the same room with Greg Rodwell without my underwear.

  Rod smirks and pulls a chair up next to me. He must be biting his tongue so hard.

  She drapes a big napkin-like sheet over my legs. “Okay. I’m going to give you this transducer to insert, so it’s more comfortable for you.” She shows me a long magic wand-looking thing.

  “Wow,” Rod says, his eyes huge, before quickly shifting away from me in his chair.

  The technician instructs me to put my feet into the stirrups and hands me the probe. I pathetically whimper when I put it in because it hurts so much. Without looking, Rod reaches his hand out and I grab it. The tech tells me she needs it to go in further, so I push it in more and squeeze Rod’s hand tighter.

  When she takes over holding it, the pain radiates throughout my stomach as she rotates the wand, and I cry. She gently tells me to not shake because she can’t get a clear picture and it’ll take longer for her. She instructs me to take a couple deep breaths, reminding me of telling Morgan that before she walked down the aisle, and continues the examination in silence. Along with my huffs, the only immediate sounds are a whining noise coming from the wand and clicking of buttons.

  Sniffing and wiping my tears with one hand, I grip Rod’s hand with the other as he strokes mine with his thumb. It’s comforting to have him here, but I wish it were Finn. This affects him. He’s a…father. I’m afraid of what he’s going to say or how he’ll react.

 

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