Dedicated Ink

by Rose, Ranae

  Sometimes, it was almost comical to watch their expressions as they shot through the intersection, seeing his cruiser out of the corners of their eyes and snapping their heads around, gaping in horror. As a woman in an SUV did just that, he flipped his lights on and pulled out into the street, resigned to the paperwork necessitated by yet another ticket.

  Pulling up behind her, he could see that she had kids in the car – two of them, grade school-aged. Both turned around in their seats to stare at him.

  What the hell was wrong with people like this woman? The damn stop sign was there for a reason. If even one other driver hadn’t been paying attention, she could’ve injured her kids in an accident that would’ve been entirely her fault. No half-off chinos or shoe clearance sale at the mall was worth that.

  He’d barely opened his door when his cell phone went off. With one foot already on the pavement, he glimpsed the screen, reading Abby’s name.

  Normally, he would’ve waited until he was done dealing with the law-breaking driver to return her call. But a sharp sliver of worry had already sliced into his chest, dividing his intentions. For half a second he deliberated, and then a sudden vision of the way she’d been looking lately – tired and pale – sprang into his mind, sealing the deal.

  He swiped a thumb across the screen. “Hey, is everything all right?” She never called him at work, except for once when she’d done so by accident, forgetting that he’d switched from night shifts to days.

  “I’m not sure. I had some weird symptoms today at work and my doctor told me to head to the hospital. I’m at West Penn.”

  Sam’s blood ran cold despite the sunlight beaming through the windshield, radiating heat his dark uniform absorbed. “What’s going on? Are you hurt – are the babies okay?”

  “No, I’m not hurt, but it is the pregnancy. They’re doing some tests, and I’m being monitored for contractions.”

  Filled with cold blood, his heart frosted over, then began to melt. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. If you need to talk to me before then, call. I’ll answer.”

  “Okay. You come in through the main emergency entrance on South Millvale.” She gave him her floor and room number.

  “All right. Be there soon.”

  He pulled his cruiser’s door shut and wove around the stopped SUV and into traffic, hurrying in the direction of the hospital like it was a fresh crime scene. The airhead of a mother running stop signs would just have to go unticketed. Maybe being pulled over had scared her enough that she’d think twice before speeding through another intersection.

  As he drove, lights still flashing, he called his supervisor and told her where he was going. She gave him leave to skip the rest of his shift – he was back on days, and only had two hours left anyway. Even as he ended the call and swore at the shopping district congestion, he was grateful that he hadn’t been doing anything more important than babysitting a stop sign. The thought of missing Abby’s call and leaving her to lie alone in the hospital was even shittier than the traffic.

  People were out shopping for Christmas gifts and hitting up the grocery stores for Thanksgiving turkeys. The holidays always brought careless drivers out in droves, and it was already apparent that this year would be no different. He had to use his siren to get around an idling sports car that failed to move aside like the surrounding vehicles had. Ten frustrating minutes later, he was at West Penn, thanks to liberal use of his lights and siren.

  He hurried toward the doors, his chest heaving a little beneath the weight of his vest. Thinking back to the book he’d read, he remembered that all pregnancies involving two or more babies were considered high-risk.

  After everything, could something be going seriously wrong?

  The thought haunted him as he approached a receptionist and was directed to Abby’s room.

  Abby was there, lying alone in one of two beds – the other was empty. Her face looked pale against the pillow and some sort of belt had been fastened around her belly. At four months, she was already obviously pregnant. Some sort of device rested on top of her bump, held in place by the wide strap. “What’s going on?” he asked, sinking into the chair by her bed and reaching for her hand.

  “You’re here early,” she said, a look of surprise sweeping over her features.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I figured you’d come here after the end of your shift.”

  “You thought I’d wait ‘till my shift was over after finding out you’re in the hospital?”

  “It’s not like I’m in the emergency room, exactly,” she said, but there was an abnormal tightness around her mouth, and up close, he could tell that he was right – she was paler than usual.

  “Is this really any better a place to be when you’re only four months along?”

  “I don’t know.” She picked at the sheets, twisting the corner of one between her fingers. “It’s probably nothing major. They think it might just be a urinary tract infection – they’re testing for that now.”

  “What happened?” It was driving him crazy not knowing. Something had to have gone wrong for them to have admitted her and hooked her up to whatever sort of machine it was that loomed beside the bed.

  “I started bleeding about an hour ago. I noticed it after I finished an appointment with a client and went to the bathroom. At first, I nearly panicked. I called my doctor’s office right away, and they told me to come here.”

  Bleeding. The word went through him like an arrow, and he reached for one of her hands, swallowing it up in one of his own. “They think it’s an infection?”

  She nodded. “Maybe. Hopefully.” She pointed to the machine beside her bed and the belt around her waist. “This monitors for contractions. I haven’t had any so far, so that’s good.” She picked up the end of a narrow strip of paper that hung from the machine, growing longer by the moment as it was forced out, printed with lines that rose up and dipped down. “If I’d had one, it would be a huge spike, but the pattern’s pretty steady.”

  She was right, and that unknotted his gut just a little. “What will they do if it’s a urinary tract infection?”

  “Prescribe me an antibiotic. It won’t be a big deal. I should know the test results before too long. Until then, I’m stuck here.”

  “I’ll stay with you.”

  “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

  “No. Not today.”

  “Okay, but don’t feel obligated to hang around. I’m already bored here.”

  “Want me to get you something to read? Something to eat?”

  She shook her head. “I had a big lunch. I’m fine for now.”

  “Something to drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  “You sure?” He ached to do something for her, however small – anything besides just sitting there, useless.

  “Sam! You really don’t have to get me anything. I mean it; I’m fine.”

  She didn’t look fine, propped up by a stack of pillows, pale and obviously worried no matter what she thought the test results would be. He longed to see her happy, healthy – in his arms, or even kicking his ass at Ms. Pac-Man. Anywhere but in a hospital bed.

  “I just want to make you more comfortable. You going to take my cuffs from me and arrest me for that?” He teased, but her response was a smile that was smaller than what he’d hoped for.

  “I might just do that if you don’t settle down,” she said, eyeing the pouch on his duty belt that held his handcuffs. “I don’t need anything – just sitting here and staring at you in your uniform is enough.”

  He arched a brow. Didn’t she want something to make her a little more comfortable, to take her mind off the situation at hand? Seeing him in his uniform probably didn’t cut it, no matter how she joked.

  “Really, Sam, sometimes I feel bad about how much time you spend thinking about what I might want. If I need something, I’ll ask. Promise.”

  He nodded, shifting his gaze to the wall. “Fine. Let me know if there’s anything yo
u want.”

  For a while, she didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

  “Did I offend you with what I said?” she eventually asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Because it seems like it,” she said.

  Feeling her gaze on his face, he resumed eye contact. “It just sucks to think that all this time when I thought I was helping, I was really annoying you.” The book and the things he’d bought from a list inside it, all the times he’d tried to find ways to be more than a passive observer of her pregnancy – had he been irritating her all along?

  “You weren’t annoying me. I just feel guilty when you obsess over doing every little thing for me.”

  He frowned. She was exaggerating, but did it really matter if that was what she thought? Her words eroded the confidence he’d been able to sustain by trying to be a part of the situation he’d gotten her – them – into.

  “It’s just that I know the twins will be running us both ragged in a few months,” she said. “I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness and exhaust you before they even get here.”

  “You’re not – you won’t. I want to help, more than I want anything else.” He looked directly into her eyes, willing her to see the truth in his.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want you to regret that I got you pregnant.” His words came out flat, but something tightened in the center of his chest, winding taut, ready to break. He knew she had every reason to regret it, knew any woman in her situation might be sorry she hadn’t been more careful … but he didn’t want that to be her, couldn’t stand the thought of her wishing she could take it all back.

  He knew all about wanting to take things back. It wasn’t a good feeling.

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t. I mean, it’s hard being pregnant when I didn’t plan to be. But we’re together, and I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty happy about that. After the past month and a half, how could you think I’d ever regret it?”

  He shrugged. The surface of his mind was insulated against easy reassurance like a duck’s back was against water, and her words went right over it, over him. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Abby sat so still she might as well have been frozen. “What?”

  A twinge of guilt struck him. Maybe that hadn’t been the best way to say it, but plunging into the truth was the only way he’d be able to bring it up at all. “Not long before I met you – the first time – I’d been seeing someone else. We’d been together for about a year, and she lived with me – I thought it was serious. But she got pregnant, and didn’t tell me until after she’d had an abortion. And then she left, to be with someone else.”

  It was such a short story, but it left a sick feeling in his gut and a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d never wanted to confess to anyone, least of all Abby. Was it insulting to expect her to be happy to be having his babies when a lesser woman had considered herself too good for the same situation?

  “How long ago was that?”

  “She left about five months ago.” Not long before they’d met, at the bar, that night in July. If only it’d been longer – it would’ve been better to have more distance between now and the past. The shame still burnt white-hot as he looked into Abby’s eyes.

  “That’s why I was at the bar.” The truth was out now – he might as well tell all of it. “I told you I don’t normally do one night stands, and I meant it. I just wanted to forget about everything that had happened for once … for good.”

  He couldn’t quite read her. Her eyes shone a little too brightly, but there was no telling whether she was angry, sad or maybe just shocked.

  “I was there because I wanted to get out after a break-up, too,” she finally said. “It’d been my decision to end things, and the break-up wasn’t half as traumatic as yours, but you know how it is when you’ve been with someone for a while. I’d been feeling down and didn’t want to think about my ex anymore.”

  Her admission brought back memories of that night. It might not have been the most romantic of meetings, but it had been exciting … fun. Flirting with her had wiped everything else from his mind for the night, and even afterward, he’d felt more alive than he had in a long time.

  Had it been the same way for her? “Did it work – did you forget?”

  She nodded. “Better than I expected it to, really. A friend of mine talked me into going – she said a month was too long to sulk after splitting up with a lame guy like my ex, and she was right. At first I thought it was stupid to go hanging around a bar, flirting with strangers, but… I guess you were the right stranger. I thought about you a hell of a lot more than I thought about my old boyfriend, after that night. You made me realize that I’d been missing out on a lot.”

  His heart surged ahead, beating too quickly, considering the fact that he was sitting motionless in a chair. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either. Jesus, you were a breath of fresh air after my ex, even if we only had half a night together.” The memory of it crept across his skin now, all heat and thrill.

  “I hope so. She had to have been an absolute idiot, to have done what she did.” Abby worked her hand around inside of his, repositioning it so that she could squeeze his fingers. “It’s hard to believe any woman could be so stupid.”

  He lowered his head, rubbing the back of his neck, which ached in the wake of so much eye contact, so much confessing. “I can’t say we were a happy couple, but I couldn’t believe she’d done what she had without even telling me. I think she only decided to end the pregnancy because she’d already started seeing someone else.

  “By that point, I knew the fact that I’d ever been with her in the first place meant there was something wrong with me. And then, when you came along and told me you were pregnant, I couldn’t help but wonder, what if you didn’t want to go through it with me, either? You were shaking when you told me, and I thought—”

  “I was shaking because I was afraid you wouldn’t want our babies.”

  He met her eyes again. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re amazing. Being with you is great; having a family with you will be great, too.” Already, he knew he couldn’t have picked a better woman. In fact, if past experience was anything to go by, he had every reason to believe that left to his own devices, he would’ve chosen a terrible woman. He’d dodged a bullet with his ex, Trish, though it had hurt.

  She shrugged. “Some people don’t want kids.”

  He shrugged too. “Guess I always figured I’d have some, someday.”

  “Me too. Only now that I’m pregnant, I realize that it might never have happened if it hadn’t happened by accident. I’m 27, and I’ve never had a boyfriend who was serious or responsible enough to want kids, or get married, or anything like that. Who knows what would’ve happened if we hadn’t…” She smiled. “God, I’m glad it was you I met in that bar that night.”

  A surge of jealousy hit him hard. “So am I. Don’t even mention the possibility of this happening with you and someone else. The idea of any other man touching the mother of my children is enough to make me want to break someone’s bones.”

  He was only half-teasing.

  She rolled her eyes. “There was no one else at that bar sexy enough to lure me home, anyway.”

  “So you say. I won’t question it. You ready for something to drink yet, or some dinner?”

  “No. Why, are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat?”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Maybe we can pick up something on the way home, if they let me out of here any time soon.”

  Less than five minutes later, a doctor brought good news – the bleeding had been caused by a urinary tract infection, which would clear up under antibiotic treatment. A nurse soon unfastened the fetal monitor and released Abby with a prescription and discharge papers.

  As they made their way across the parking lot togeth
er, a fresh uneasiness weighed Sam down, urging him to broach yet another sensitive subject. “Maybe this isn’t an ideal time to bring it up, but I need to talk to you about something.”

  “What is it?” She climbed into his cruiser. One of her co-workers had driven her to the hospital, so she had no vehicle of her own to worry about getting home.

  “This pregnancy has been hard on you, and I don’t think that’s going to change.”

  “My doctor said that pregnancy symptoms can be more intense with twins.”

  He nodded. “I noticed you’ve been taking on a lot of appointments lately. Trying to fit all your clients in before the babies arrive?”

  She shifted in her seat. “I’ve been trying to keep my schedule full. I’ve missed several whole days because I felt too bad to work, and yeah, I won’t be tattooing at all for a while in a few months.”

  The note of anxiety in her voice reinforced what he’d already known.

  “I think you’re pushing yourself too hard. You need to take it easier, for your own sake and the babies’. I don’t want you to wind up in the hospital again with something worse going on.”

  “My work has been my life for the past several years. I know that’s about to change, but it’s a hard transition to make. I can’t stand to let my clients down – some of them have been coming to me for years, too, and then there are my cover-up clients. I can’t turn away someone who desperately needs a cover-up. I just can’t.” She huffed, clasping her hands in her lap, below the swell of her belly.

  “It’s your health that’s at stake though, baby.” He tried to be tactful, though his determination didn’t waver. “And our kids’, too. I hate seeing you walk around with dark circles under your eyes, leaning on walls and furniture like you’re too tired to stand up on your own.”

  “I hate it too, sometimes.” Her voice had softened. “I just… It’s not just about my clients. I need the money. I hardly have anything saved up, and I’m not sure how I’m going to afford two sets of baby essentials, let alone several months of rent and utilities while I’m out of work.”