And I’d missed all the signs.
“Mr. Coram?” the doctor said, alarm in his voice.
“Oh my God.” I shook my head. Carrie had been pregnant, hadn’t told me, and I’d told her the baby was okay. She’d think the baby was okay. “No.”
“I know this is bad news,” the doctor said, putting his hand on my arm. “But we were able to do a D&C while she was in surgery, so the good news is that the worst is over. She won’t even really bleed much at all. Now the healing can start.”
The healing. I hadn’t even known I was going to be a father again, and now I was supposed to heal? “How did you know so soon? I mean, she hadn’t even been late yet or anything.”
He blinked. “She was two and a half months in. You knew, right?”
Two. Fucking. Months.
She’d had all that time to tell me we were having another baby, and she hadn’t said a word. That’s how little she trusted me right now. She probably hadn’t told me because she’d thought it would make me upset. She’d thought it would make me worse.
My stomach hollowed out. I was going to fucking hurl.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
I’d made her believe I wouldn’t be happy about another baby. Another baby that we’d made. That’s how far gone I’d been, yet I’d refused to accept that I needed help. Refused to admit it. She’d been scared to tell me. Scared.
I needed to get help. I needed to get better.
She needed me.
I’d been refusing to admit I needed help because I thought it made me weak. But it didn’t. Carrie was right. I did need someone besides her. Dr. Montgomery had helped me see that, all those years ago.
Admitting I needed help made me stronger. It showed I was aware of my flaws, and that I’d do anything to keep my family safe. To keep my family whole.
I needed help, and I’d get it.
For her. For Susan. And for me.
“Are you okay?” the doctor asked. His voice sounded miles away. “Mr. Coram?”
I thought of Carrie, and how scared she was, and how much she needed me right now. It pulled me back into the light. “Yeah. Sorry.” I dragged my hands down my face. “Thank you for telling me.”
Once the doctor left, I took a second to compose myself, and walked back into her room in a trance. Hugh sat in the chair, his face hidden behind his hands. With the news of the lost baby, I’d forgotten they were here.
My gaze fell on Carrie. She looked so pale. So lifeless. It scared the shit out of me. I walked over to her side and sat down on the side of the bed. She’d been so worried about me this past week and a half. So scared for me.
And I’d been too blind to see it.
To listen to her. Never again.
I kissed her forehead and closed my eyes. “I’m here. And I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”
Hugh watched me. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’m saying if she can forgive me for being blind,” I took a deep breath, “then I’m not going anywhere. And I’m going back to Dr. Montgomery. It’s time.”
“Good.” Margie laid her hand on my shoulder. “She’s been so worried about you.”
I swallowed past the aching lump in my throat. “I know.” I closed my eyes and opened them again, finding a new strength I hadn’t realized I had within me. “But no more. Never again. It’s time for me to take care of her, not the other way around.”
Carrie moaned, and Hugh rushed to her side, grabbing her hand. “It’s okay, Princess. We’re here.”
She quieted.
I swallowed hard.
“I can’t keep watching her in pain like this,” Hugh whispered, his eyes locked on Carrie’s pale face. He was obviously on the verge of a panic attack. I’d had enough panic to last me a fucking lifetime. “She’s never going to—”
“You will, and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” I said, my voice harder than ever before with him. Even harder than when he’d told me I wasn’t good enough for her, all those years ago. “Because you owe it to her. You owe her this.”
He paled, but nodded. “I know. It’s my fault. This is all my fault.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, feeling like shit for making the man feel worse. My head wasn’t on straight right now, but I knew one thing—she didn’t need us sobbing and whimpering over her right now. “It’s not your fault.”
Her father insisted it was his fault, since the man had been intent on punishing him through Carrie. The fucker who had tried to kill my Carrie. I’d killed him, and I didn’t even feel bad about it. Not really. If anything, I wish I could do it again.
He’d almost taken Carrie’s life, and he deserved to rot in hell. I hoped he was. I hoped heaven and hell were real, and he was burning with Satan’s spike up his fucking ass for all eternity. And if that damned me to hell as well, then so be it. I’d spend my own eternity fucking him up even more.
He’d killed my baby.
“It is.” Hugh covered his face. “It’s my fault.”
“I know you feel like this is all on you, but it’s not.” I hugged the man close. We’d had our issues once, but he’d been good to me for years. I could never be anything less to him. “You didn’t know he’d escaped. You had no way of knowing.”
He deflated, almost as if I’d removed a huge weight from his shoulders. “Thank you.” He hugged me back, his grip tight and loving. “Thank you, son.”
I blinked back the stinging warning of impending tears, the ones I’d been holding off for what felt like years, gave him a man pat on the back, and stepped back. “There’s nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”
Margie locked eyes with me, nodding once and mouthing, “Thank you.”
I glanced away uneasily.
A moan came from the bed behind me. I rushed to her side just in time to see her bright blue eyes. I soaked them in, knowing it wouldn’t last long. She was high as a kite and sedated. She’d be out cold in another minute or two. “Hey, Ginger.”
She glanced up at me, her bright blue eyes glazed over from the morphine. “Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked. “That’s not my name.”
Yep. She was high as a kite. We’d had almost this exact conversation all those years ago when we’d met. I forced a smile and tugged on her red hair gently. “Because it suits you. Why? Don’t you like it?”
“I don’t think so.” She bit her lower lip. “It annoys me, but it also makes me…”
“Want to hit me?” I supplied, hoping to help. “You told me that once. It’s a feeling I bring out in you fairly often.”
“No.” She glanced up at me, and looked away quickly. Her cheeks pinked. “It makes me feel…” She smiled dreamily, her eyes watered over.
She didn’t finish, so I quirked a brow. “Yeah?”
I was trying not to laugh, but she was acting so different it was hard not to. I’d never seen her like this. She didn’t even drink wine because of me.
That must be why the drugs had hit her so hard.
She nodded. “Yep. That’s it.”
“What’s it?” I asked, chuckling. “You have to say it out loud, Ginger.”
“Oh. I thought I did.” She looked up at me. “I think it makes me happy. And it makes me think you love me. It makes me think of laughing, and teasing, and…kissing,” she whispered. “Lots of kissing.”
My heart stuttered, and then sped up quickly. Leaning down, I stopped when our noses were practically touching and our gazes were locked. Lowering my voice so her parents didn’t hear, I said, “That’s because we do that a lot, too. Among other things.”
Her cheeks went even pinker.
Jesus, it was adorable. She hadn’t blushed for me in years. She was a hell of a lot like the Carrie I’d met in college, in more ways than one. She bit her lip in the way she always did when she wanted to flirt with me.
“I bet we do.” She giggled. Carrie never giggled. “I kinda want to kiss yo
u now.”
Something else inside of me gave way. Something I couldn’t listen to right now. “Maybe later.” I squeezed her hand and straightened. “Your parents are here right now, and they want to say hello before they leave.”
“Oh.” She peeked over my shoulder, her grip on me not relaxing even the slightest. I looked at them, giving them a reassuring smile. I tried to see what she saw. Her father’s gray hair was messy for the first time ever, and her mother was in a tizzy. They didn’t look like the possible first lady and president. They looked like worried parents. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. I think I’m drunk.”
They went on the other side of the bed. “Hello, Princess,” Hugh said, bending down and kissing the bandages on the left side of Carrie’s head. “I’m very, very glad to see those blue eyes again. Glad you’re okay.”
She glanced at me and gave a small smile to her father. “I’m glad too. Dying would have sucked. I think.”
I choked on a half-laugh, half-sob, and Carrie grinned.
“Yes, it would have,” her mother said, leaning in and kissing her. “We would have missed you.”
“I’d hope so,” I said drily.
Carrie smiled wider. “I’m sorry to put you both through the scare. I hear it was quite…messy.”
“Very.” Hugh looked at me, scanning my clothes. I knew he was remembering how much blood I’d had on me when he’d found us in the foyer. He’d never see those clothes again because I’d thrown them out. I hadn’t wanted Carrie to see how much I’d looked like an extra out of some fucking horror film. “But you’re okay now, so that’s all that matters.”
Carrie glanced at her lap, at our joined hands, then at me. “I think I’m in good hands here.”
“You are.” I squeezed her fingers. “I’ll be here with you the whole time.”
“We will be, too,” Margie said.
“Well, not here here. We can’t all sleep in this small room,” Hugh said, smiling. It wobbled, but he held it together pretty damn good. “We’ll be at your house, taking care of S—”
“Things,” I said quickly. “The plants and whatnot.”
I didn’t want her to go back into another panic attack. She needed rest, and hearing Susan’s name might remind her of the baby she hadn’t told me about. And if I had to tell her about the baby, she might break down again.
She needed to heal a little more first.
Hugh flushed. “Right.”
“Th-Thank you,” Carrie said, looking confused. She yawned, and her eyes drifted shut. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t…I’m…”
And then she fell asleep. Just like that.
“Carrie?” I waved my hand in front of her face, and she didn’t move. This was not like my Carrie. My Carrie tossed and turned for hours before finally settling into sleep. The drugs must have done her in. “I think maybe she’s tired,” I said drily.
Margie laughed and covered her mouth right away. Her eyes filled up with tears, and she backed away. “W-We’ll go. Let her rest. Please, if anything changes, let us know.”
“Call us no matter what,” Hugh said, catching my stare. “Please. Take good care of our baby.”
“I will,” I promised. “And you take good care of mine.”
“We will.” They hugged me, and I tried to hug them back, but when I tugged on my hand, Carrie didn’t let go. And I’d be damned before I made her. “We’ll relieve Marie from her babysitting duties now.”
Marie was Carrie’s best friend. I’d been fielding calls from her all night long.
“Thank you.”
After they walked out, I stared at the chair across the room. My injured leg hurt like a bitch, but I wouldn’t be able to reach it from here. I stood there for I don’t know how long, my leg throbbing and my eyes getting heavier by the moment.
At some point, hours later, I crawled into the bed, keeping clear of any tubes or injuries on Carrie, wrapped my arm over her, and passed the hell out.
Having Carrie back in my arms gave me the first real sleep I’d had since…
I didn’t even know.
Carrie
I backed up slowly, my heart hammering in my ears as I held both hands out, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible. “Please. Don’t do this.”
The man laughed and held the gun out at me. “I’m going to kill you, and your baby, and the man you say you love—but who doesn’t love you anymore. If he did, he’d be here.”
“No. That’s not true.”
“He doesn’t love you. No one does.” He grinned evilly. “And now you’re going to die alone.”
“Please! Don’t—” The gunshot boomed, and I gasped, clutching my chest and fighting the arms that held me down. “No! Let me go!”
“Carrie,” a voice said, his voice hurried and scared. “Wake up. I’m here. Please, open those eyes. Wake up. You’re safe. I have you.”
I fought the hands holding me down. Something clogged my nose, so I pulled at that. Maybe they were trying to suffocate me since the bullet hadn’t done me in. I had to escape. Had to live. Had to…
I yanked the tubes out of my nose. “Finn.”
“I’m here. I’m right here.” Hands shook me. “Please, wake up. They’re going to have to sedate you again if you don’t stop this.”
That voice. I knew that voice.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. The lights were way too bright and they hurt, but I blinked the tears away. I stopped fighting. “F-Finn?” He had an aura around his head from the light that looked like a halo. He looked like an angel. I choked on a sob. “Oh my God. I’m dead. I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“No. You’re here, and so am I. Feel me.” He held my hand to his cheek. He was warm to the touch, and he had a lot of scruff that scratched my hand. “See? Not a ghost.”
Tears escaped my eyes, and I forced a calm breath. “It’s you. You came.”
“Did you ever doubt I would?” He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were sad. So, so sad. “Can you let them get you resituated? Will you stop fighting them?”
“O-Of course.” I glanced at the nurses that surrounded my bed. They all looked as if they’d been in a tornado. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” Finn nodded at them, then turned back to me with a tender smile. He brushed my hair out of my eyes with his hand, his touch soft and sweet. “But I’m sorry this happened to you, Ginger.”
“It’s okay. It’s not…” I broke off, horror coming through my veins. I pressed a hand to my stomach, somehow knowing it was no longer carrying anything. I felt so empty. “The baby.”
His smile faded, and his eyes filled with tears. “Carrie…”
“No.” My heartbeat accelerated, and I slapped a nurse’s hands away when she reached for me. “No. Please, no.”
“I’m so sorry, Carrie. But the baby…it didn’t…there was too much shock to your body.” Finn tried to hug me close, but I pushed him off. “Carrie, please.”
I shook my head, a sob escaping me. It hurt to cry, but I couldn’t stop it. “Not our baby. I didn’t even get to tell you yet. You didn’t…no.”
The nurse reached for me again, and suddenly I was back in that place. Back in my foyer, with a gun pointed at me. I bucked my back, fighting for my life. Fighting for my child’s life. Everyone tried to hold me down, but I didn’t let them. It was over. I’d lost my baby, and I had nothing left to hold on to.
Finn called my name, and I heard him, but I didn’t look at him. I just fought until it all went black, and I couldn’t fight anymore.
I was screaming, running for my life. The footsteps came even closer, faster, louder. They echoed against the walls, taunting me. I knew he was going to catch me. I wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t smart enough. He would get me, and he’d kill me. He was going to kill me. I screamed again, the sound piercing and loud.
I was going to die, here in this pitch-black hallway if I didn’t…if I didn’t…wake up. With a lurching breath, I wrenched my eyes open. Instead of a madman
trying to kill me, I saw a bunch of IV tubes and the square tiles of the hospital ceiling. The room was deathly quiet, aside from the beeping of my machines, even though I’d been so sure I’d been screaming louder than a banshee.
I was in bed, and I was safe.
I gasped for air, struggling to ground myself. Obviously, I hadn’t actually been running for my life. Instead, I’d been having a nightmare where some faceless man was chasing me, a gun in his hand. I tried to lift my arm to wipe away the sweat off my forehead, but someone held on to it tightly.
Turning my head slowly, I came face to face with the most handsome man I’d ever seen. His eyes were closed, and half of his face was buried beside my pillow, but I recognized him instantly. Despite the confusion and the pain and the fear, I knew him.
He was my husband. Finn.
Then I remembered. I’d been shot, and I was in the hospital. I had a feeling I had been for a while, but for some reason I couldn’t remember how long. The world spun a bit, and I turned my head, squinting at the square receptacle that held all my meds. Scanning the names, I realized why I didn’t remember anything.
They’d been sedating me. And I was still on morphine.
Why had they sedated me?
Biting down on my lip, I looked back at Finn. Slowly, I reached out and touched his cheek gently. As soon as I touched him, I felt calmer. As if he would keep me safe from the nightmares. But what if this was the nightmare? What if he woke up and shot me in the face? The drugs I was on were doing weird things to my head. I’d even had a dream that Susan had tried to kill me with a rope.
The terror never shut off in my dreams.
Finn mumbled in his sleep, rubbed his face against my palm, and let out a small snore. His full lips pursed before relaxing again. I smiled, because it was so human. So real. And that’s when I knew I was awake. Alive. Safe.
He stirred, rubbing his nose. I traced the scar that ran across his forehead, down toward his eye, and sadness intermingled with memories. This is what had started us down the path we’d taken. We’d fought our way to find our love again, back then, and we could do it again. We’d come through it eventually. We had to.
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