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I hang up and look toward the ambulance. Blair is sitting inside, wrapped in a blanket and staring down at her shaking hands.

My chest fucking aches.

Ten minutes ago, I wanted to kill him.

Now I only want to get to her.

I walk toward the ambulance without another thought. “I’m coming with you.”

Blair looks up at me. “I know.”

Like there was never any question.

Forty Five

Blair

The room is too quiet without Dean in it. I should probably enjoy the silence after the night I’ve had, but instead, I fucking hate it.

My entire body aches now that the adrenaline has worn off, and every time I close my eyes, I’m back on my living-room floor with Ben’s hands around my throat. So, I keep them open and focus on the shitty hospital curtain, the fluorescent light above me and the monitor beside the bed.

Anything but him.

The nurse practically pushed Dean out of the room so she could finish examining me. He kept hovering over her shoulder, asking about two hundred questions about what she was doing and whether I was okay.

I told him I was fine, but he didn’t believe me.

Hell, I don’t even know if I believe myself.

The door opens and the doctor walks back into the examination room, holding a clipboard against his chest.

“I apologize for the wait, Miss Morgan,” he says with a small smile.

“That’s okay.” I attempt to sit up straighter, immediately regretting it when my head throbs. “Is everything alright? Can I go home yet?”

“Your scans are clear. There are no fractures, internal bleeding or signs of injury to the blood vessels in your neck,” he explains, glancing down at his notes. “You do have a mild concussion, and the abrasion on your lip will take some time to heal, but neither requires further treatment.”

“Okay. Great.” Relief loosens something in my chest. “So, I can leave?”

“You can, but I want someone to stay with you tonight. If you experience any trouble breathing or swallowing, confusion, vomiting or a worsening headache, you need to come straight back.”

“Trust me, Dean isn’t going to let me out of his sight,” I mutter.

The doctor smiles slightly. “Good. You’re also safe to sleep, and you can take acetaminophen for the pain if you need it.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Doctor.” I’m already thinking about my bed. Or Dean’s bed. Honestly, whichever one gets me out of this fucking hospital faster.

“There’s just one more thing we need to discuss,” he says, his expression turning more serious.

My stomach drops.

I’m dying. Ben’s actually fucking killed me.

“Your blood work included a routine pregnancy test.” He pauses, looking directly at me. “It came back positive.”

I go completely still.

The missed pill.