LOCKE - Part Two

LOCKE - PART TWO

"Inside" was a waiting area with every other soul and their fuckin' dog. Triage passed quickly, and they got Orla to piss on the stick I'd promised her, but the nurse sent us back to our seats without divulging the results and we settled in to wait for whatever came next.

I occupied myself messaging Folk for help while Orla stared into space.

Locke: orla's bleeding. can you bring Nash to a&e without freaking him out or telling him anything?

Folk: He doesn't know she's pregnant?

Locke: no

The one word response was less painful than the truth, and when Folk didn't reply, I knew he had it handled.

I leaned back in my seat, my hand on Orla's jittery knee. The cramps had eased off as we'd waited, but she was still bleeding enough to terrify us both. "It'll be okay."

She didn't answer, and I couldn't blame her. What kind of bullshit reassurance was that? She had endo. Even if today brought the best possible outcome, pregnancy was still dangerous—for the baby, for her. Losing Wren had nearly killed Kara.

Like she'd sensed my pain, Willow blew up my phone. Knowing it was her outrage that I'd left the compound without telling her, I ignored it. But guilt got the better of me and I messaged another brother for help, grateful I had so many while my heart ached for my twin.

I needed his comforting bulk. His deep voice. Over the past few months, I'd come to rely on it more than I ever had. Cos loving Nash and Orla had given me my fuckin' life back.

Logan.

Anguish blistered my senses. I fought it, hanging on, for Orla, for Nash, and finished typing the message on my phone.

Locke: had to shoot. can u distract willow for me?

Rubi: Locktipus, did you sneak off for a booty call?

Locke: no

Rubi: Everything okay?

Locke: yeah, just need a minute

Rubi: I got you, big daddy xx

I clicked out of WhatsApp, leaving Rubi on read without thanking him, or telling him I fuckin' loved him for being the biggest, daftest brother my kid could ever wish for.

"Orla O'Brian?"

Phone forgotten, I snapped my attention to the doctor calling Orla's name from the double doors that protected the A&E department from the masses. I helped her up and we followed the doctor to a curtained bed in minors.

"You're pregnant," the doctor said without preamble.

Orla blinked, halfway onto the bed. "What?"

"You're pregnant," the doctor repeated. "Your HGC levels and the rough date of your last period make me think you're around ten weeks, but given your history with endometriosis, and that you've experienced some pain and bleeding today, I've asked the urgent gynae unit to assess you. They'll perform an ultrasound and take care of you from there."

I'd never seen my queen lost for words, but as her lush mouth opened and shut without sound, I knew she needed me to speak up. To ask the worst question I'd ever had to ask and brace for the answer. "Do you think she's miscarrying?"

The doctor turned to me. "Are you dad?"

"Brother-in-law." I spoke with ease. We'd fallen into this lie at the other hospital, playing on the blond hair and big shoulders vibe so no one batted an eye when we told them me and Nash were related unless I forgot myself and touched him too much. "Dad's on his way."

The doctor nodded, returning to my question. "We can't rule it out," he admitted. "But if you were miscarrying right now, I'd expect the HGC in your blood to be lower than it is. It's possible that the discomfort and bleeding is from something else, and the ultrasound will help diagnose that."

He spoke more and I tried to absorb it all, but it was hard over the megaphone blaring in my head.

She's pregnant.

Fuckin' hell.

The A&E doctor wished us luck and referred us to the early pregnancy department in another part of the hospital.

Orla clutched my hand, walking beside me in a daze. "Is Nash really on his way?"

"Course he is."

"Does he know?"

"Honestly?" I tried to remember how I'd left it with Folk, a brother who'd likely guessed Orla was pregnant before I had. "I don't know. I asked Folk to get him here without scaring the shit out of him. I have no idea how he's planning to do that."

Lost in thought, Orla just nodded and let me steer her to the lifts to the second floor, and to another waiting room, this one far quieter than A&E, which had its pros and cons.

Can't lie, the silence got under my skin, the urge to pace around the small space so strong only my concern for Orla kept me in my seat.

"It still might be nothing."

It was the first time she'd spoken in a while.

I turned to her, squeezing her hand. "But it might be everything. Hold onto that."

They called her back. I rose to follow, but the doors blew open before I could take a step and Nash limped in, hair windswept and wild, like he'd ridden here when I knew for a fact he hadn't been on a hog since he'd almost died on one, eyes wide with the same fear Orla carried. That this dream would be ripped away from them before they'd had a chance to fuckin' believe it.

There was no time for anything but love. I put a steady hand to the small of his back and guided him forward. "Go on."

"But—"

" Go ."

Bewildered, Nash pushed on through the door, leaving me alone in the waiting room.

I returned to my seat. Changed my mind and drifted to the window, the urge to call Logan so strong I had to ball my hands into fists.

Not yet . Not until I had something concrete to tell him. Which left me at the mercy of my phone and the messages popping up from brothers who'd caught wind of the fact that I'd rushed Orla off the compound without saying goodbye to my kid. Something they knew I'd never do unless someone was dying.

Rubi: Willow went home. You need something, brother?

Mateo: everythin oky?

Saint: what's wrong

Folk: I'm outside if you need me

The radio silence from Cam and Alexei told me they were elsewhere and probably banging. Unless Alexei knew everything and he was keeping it close until he had more tangible information.

Both scenarios were equally possible. I folded my arms across my chest and pressed my temple to the cold window, using the calming techniques Folk and Embry had drilled into me over the past few months to slow my pulse and unpick the knots in my gut. But it was hard. The first doctor had seemed positive, but ultrasounds, man. Those fuckers could shatter your dreams in a split second, and despite choking on the fear of living through that again, it killed me not to be with them right now.

Her.

Him.

Fuck, I loved them.

My phone buzzed again.

Twin1: are you still coming up at the weekend?

My heart squeezed even tighter. I'd seen more of my brother over the past few months than I had in years. He'd fallen under Orla's spell almost as entirely as I had, and the bromance growing between him and Nash was cute as hell.

Didn't stop him worrying about me, though, and if I spoke to him right now, even over text, he'd know something was wrong in a heartbeat.

I pocketed my phone.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

It felt like a lifetime had passed when the hospital doors finally cracked a few inches and Nash slipped through them.

He came straight to me, stepping into my open arms, his strong body trembling with an emotion I was scared to quantify. But that I had to—to be there for them in whatever capacity they needed me.

I held Nash for a long moment. Then I eased back to look at him. To study his pale face and dazed eyes. "Tell me. Whatever it is, I'm here and we'll get through it."

Nash nodded slowly, his stunned gaze slipping in and out of awareness. "It's fucking twins."