“Then what?”
I look down at my hands. “I didn’t know if you’d get there in time.”
Kiren’s jaw clenches. “I’ll always come for you.”
I meet his eyes. “I know.”
I can’t say more than that without breaking open, and he seems to understand it. His hand closes around mine instead, warm, rough, and real.
The hospital is private and quiet. The staff averts their eyes when Kiren passes, seeming to know better than to question the man whose money keeps the doors open. The lobby smells of antiseptic and coffee, coming from somewhere behind thereception desk. Lila is taken from the first SUV on a gurney and moved through a restricted corridor immediately, the medic walking beside her and briefing the staff in clipped professional phrases that make the situation sound smaller than it felt inside the warehouse.
The next few minutes pass in a blur of quiet questions and quick examinations. A doctor checks the bruising along my ribs, asks about dizziness, and presses a cool stethoscope against my abdomen while another nurse adjusts the small monitor beside the bed.
The room fills with nothing but the soft electronic rhythm of a heartbeat. The doctor glances at the screen and then back at me.
“The baby looks fine,” she tells me. “Strong heartbeat. No signs of distress.”
The tight band that has been wrapped around my chest since the warehouse finally loosens enough for me to breathe again.
It’s nearly twenty minutes before they let Kiren in to see me. The door closes softly behind him when he steps into the room.
He stands there looking at me, the tension he carried out of the warehouse still sitting in the line of his shoulders. One hand drags slowly down the front of his coat as if he’s reminding himself where he is.
“You should be resting,” he says quietly.
I adjust my head on the pillows, the hospital blanket rustling beneath my hands.
“I’ve done enough resting tonight.”
Something in his mouth almost turns into a smile, but it disappears before it fully forms. Instead, he moves closer to the bed, his eyes traveling slowly over me. He notes the bruising along my arm, the bandage at my wrist, and the way the blanket has been tucked too tightly around my legs.
“Are you hurt anywhere they didn’t check?” he asks.
“No.”
His hand rests against the mattress beside my hip. He doesn’t touch me yet, but the warmth of him is close enough that I feel it anyway.
“They examined you thoroughly?” he asks.
I nod, smoothing a hand over the blanket. “Yes. They ran a few tests and checked the bruising.”
“And?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him softly. “Nothing broken. Just sore.”
His shoulders loosen slightly at that. “And the baby?”
The words are spoken so calmly that for a moment I don’t understand them. Then my breath hitches.
“You… know?” I whisper.
Kiren lifts his eyes to mine. “I know.”
My fingers tighten in the blanket as my mind races through the last few hours.
“How?” I ask, my fingers trembling slightly.
“Ivan.”
