London and I both crack up. Men and their one-track minds. We pull our shirts up and send the boys more sinful selfies. Us kissing, touching, fingering, coming. That should hold all four of us over until tomorrow.
When we finally do go to sleep, I realize this has been the first night in a long while I haven’t pined over what I don’t have and appreciate what I do.
I WAKE UP WITH Asharp pain in my abdomen. “Oh.” I roll over and try to breathe.
“London?” I shake her awake. “London.”
“Mmm?”
“Ouch!”
“Ellie?” She opens her eyes.
“Something’s happening.”
“Something like what?” She sits up and throws the covers off us then gasps. “Ellie, did you get your period?”
“I just had it.” I look down at the blood staining my inner thighs and the sheets. “Oh!” Another stabbing pain immobilizes me.
“Okay. Come on, up.” She scoots out of bed. “We’re going to the hospital.”
“Hospital?”
“Yes.” She rushes around her bedroom, putting on clothesand pulling her hair into a low ponytail. “Go wash off. Where’s your overnight bag?”
“Downstairs,” I tell her as I slide carefully off the bed.
“I’ll grab you a change a clothes and check on the kids. Then straight to the ER.”
“Do you think that’s necessary?” I ask and she creases her eyebrows.
“Absolutely. I’m not letting anything happen to you on my watch. Better safe than having to deal with the wrath of Kayne.”
She has a point there.
“Okay.” I walk slowly into the bathroom and turn on the shower. My stomach constantly tortured with cramps. As I wash away the blood, I worry what besides my period would make me feel this way. Vaginal cancer is the only thing that comes to mind. The thought terrifies me. My mother’s sister was diagnosed at the ripe old age of thirty-five. The disease runs in my family. I dry off frantically and find my clothes on the stripped bed in London and Jett’s room. Thankfully, the blood didn’t stain the mattress. By the time I make it downstairs, London has the car keys in her hand and is kissing Layla and Beckett good-bye.
The ride to the hospital is tense and quiet. London holds my hand the whole way, while every bump jolts my fragile insides.
The ER is relatively quiet for a Saturday morning. Only one other person is in the waiting room.
“Please fill this out.” The nurse behind the counter hands me a clipboard. I sit with London and fill out the paperwork in a fog.
“Do you want me to call Kayne?” London asks as I return to the clipboard to the receptionist.
“No.” I curl into a ball next to her. “Let’s just see what the doctor has to say.” Although I’m pretty sure I might already know the answer. Maybe that’s why I can’t get pregnant? I’m sick.
“Ellie Stevens.” A male nurse calls my name. London and I follow him through the door, past several pulled curtains, until we come to an empty alcove with a bed and strange machines. It reminds me of when I was in the hospital after I was shot. I shiver. I haven’t been back to one in almost five years, and I was hoping the next time I did visit, it would be under happiercircumstances.
“Okay.” The young male nurse with light-brown hair and eyes looks over my information. “I see you’ve had some cramping and bleeding?”
“Yes.”
“Any chance you could be pregnant?”
“No. I just had my period last week.”
“Okay. And I see you have a family history of vaginal cancer.”
