20. Amy

20

AMY

I cinched my eyes shut and curled into the tightest ball that I could. The pain wouldn't stop. All the stickiness between my legs didn't disappear, either, as I tried to shut out the horror of this sickening sensation.

I'd had bad cramps before. My foster parents never listened when I begged to stay home, hurting so severely from brutal periods.

This was nothing like those memories. Cramps continued, and I whimpered as I tucked into a tense fetal position on the bed.

I'd gone to the bathroom to throw up—again. Afterward, I would've stood in the shower and waited for the steam and massage of the water to wash away the remnants of nausea—again. That was how my mornings went, but this time, something different occurred. This wrenching cramp took hold of me, and I'd just barely made it to the bed before I doubled over in pain.

Pressing my hand to my stomach didn't help abate the agony. All I could do was tense up and pray I wasn't dying. That was how bad this felt .

Margie came in, like usual. The guard stopped coming with her, and I supposed with the doors unlocked, I could set out to find a dining room and eat outside Nik's personal quarters here.

Upon finding me on the bed, crying in pain, she dropped the tray and gasped. Her eyes opened wide, and when her gaze tracked the path from the bathroom to where my legs rested on the bed, I realized I'd streaked a trail of blood.

"Amy!"

Mila's voice reached me first, but I shook my head. As another woman, a fellow mother-to-be, her presence should have helped calm me down.

All I wanted was Nik. The father of my baby. The lover who never would want me as deeply as I did him. Even though he'd shown me how cool he could be with his affections, it was his comfort that I yearned for. I needed a rock, something to anchor myself to before this pain swept me to delirium.

"Over here!" another called out.

So many voices sounded in a hurried chaos in the room. One was authoritative and calm. It cut over the din of everyone else, but all I cared about was that it wasn't Nik.

"Miss, I'm Doctor Francis. I'm here to help." She spoke firmly but gently, full of confidence I didn't feel about this situation. With rapid-fire requests, she ordered others in the room, and I guessed that at least one nurse or official helper was on hand.

How this crime family could have doctors on staff at a minute's notice made no sense to me, but I appreciated that they had such resources when I needed them.

"Amy."

I opened my eyes at Nik's voice. He was there, sliding next to me on the bed. Sitting on the edge, he gripped my hand and held it tight .

"It hurts."

He nodded, his brow furrowed as he gazed into my eyes with worry. "We're going to help you."

"You." You came. I wanted his help more than anything, because as long as he was here, I felt stronger.

"I'm here," he said, likely guessing why I'd said that.

Now that I felt braver to open my eyes, I registered that Dr. Francis wasn't wasting time. She and another technician or nurse busied themselves in taking my vitals and setting up a portable ultrasound machine next to the bed.

Mila hovered on the other side of the bed, turning to the others who were there. "Alek! Get them back from here. Give her some fucking privacy." She faced me, worried. "Thank God, Dr. Francis and her nurse were already on their way here. She's one of the best, Amy. She's been monitoring my pregnancy all along. I trust her, and you can too."

I nodded, clinging to Nik's hand as the doctor quickly draped a sheet over me and examined me. It wasn't like a pap smear, and the ultrasound wand was cold. Once the nurse wheeled the monitor closer, I heard the first beats of my baby's heart.

"It's so fast," I whispered, amazed. Tears leaked down my face as I understood another, more important detail.

A heartbeat. I hadn't lost him or her. I hadn't miscarried, despite the pain and blood.

"I have PCOS," I shakily told the nurse and doctor.

She nodded. "Anything else?"

I shook my head. "Healthy as can be, otherwise."

"Good. Very good. "

I didn't know if she meant it was good that I didn't have any other existing medical concerns or that things were looking good from what she saw. I relaxed anyway, knowing that they would help me. It hardly mattered if they were bribed to be here to serve a crime organization. Their Hippocratic Oath to help the ill and wounded should ensure that they'd do their best.

Easing back onto the pillows, I tracked how the cramps faded with every minute that passed. I was no longer gripped in that intense, stabbing pain, but I refused to think I was out of the woods yet. Something had to be wrong, because Dr. Francis was taking a long time to rub the ultrasound wand over my stomach. She focused on the screen and tapped buttons over and over, and I wanted to assume she was simply thorough. I'd had ultrasounds before, long ago when I was first suspected to have polycystic ovarian syndrome. Those Ob-Gyn appointments had scans and such, but none of them felt as long as this one did.

It's going to be okay. Somehow, some way, it will be okay.

Focusing on Nik's hold on my hand and the varying beats of my baby's heartbeat, I tried to follow the differences in sound. Every time she moved the device, it sounded the same, yet not. All I cared about was that his or her beat was strong and not fading no matter where Dr. Francis moved over my still-flat stomach.

"You didn't miscarry," Dr. Francis said eventually, almost as though she knew what I was thinking. "You've lost some blood, just such implantation adjustments and shifting with the placenta. It can happen, and with your concerns, it's not unexpected. PCOS can cause issues, but I see nothing overall alarming."

"She's okay?" Nik asked.

I tried to ignore the pang of hurt that he only cared about me, not his baby as well. But he didn't know. Guilt ramped up my heart rate .

"Easy," Dr. Francis said as the pulsometer showed my increased beat. "Truly, I think you'll be fine."

"If the baby's just one of the Cartel's bastards, and they raped her, why care about it?" a man muttered from the side of the room.

Mila, still hovering and acting like a bodyguard from letting anyone else closer, shot the man a hard look.

"I'm just saying," he argued. "Why's she so worried about it? Why would she want a Cartel baby so bad?"

Nik shook his head, squeezing my hand tightly. His jaw slid, and I grew more worried that his reaction was one of anger, not annoyance on my behalf.

Shit. What if they all start thinking I'm with the Cartel somehow? It felt like such a reach, but I was tense and so on edge with the scare of those cramps and the blood.

"I can't lose?—"

"Shh." Dr. Francis smiled softly at me. "No one's losing anything."

"Not so sure about that," Mila muttered as one of Nik's brothers kicked the other soldier out of the room. I didn't understand why so many had to be guarding the doors now anyway, and I figured they were nosy with all the commotion. Margie hadn't been quiet when she ran to get help.

"Do you know who the father is?" Dr. Francis asked carefully and neutrally.

I licked my lips, hating to keep it a secret for a second longer. Now that I'd faced a scare like this alone, now that I'd suffered the intense what-if of a miscarriage or something worse, I didn't want to ever experience it again.

What if I did lose the baby and Nik never even knew? I'd resent myself for the rest of my life .

I lifted my gaze to him, searching his face for a sign that he would forgive me for keeping this from him. I hadn't counted on seeing him again to ever tell him. Since he'd come back in my life—and rescued me from a life of slavery and the horrors of being trafficked—I had no excuse to not come clean.

He noticed my intense gaze, and I blinked back tears.

Please. Please, don't be mad.

Please forgive me.

I'm sorry.

"Amy?" he whispered as the realization dawned on him.

I nodded.

"Do you know who the father is?" Dr. Francis asked again, oblivious to this silent communication between me and Nik. I conveyed the truth with a sincere, hopeful look. He understood, his mouth dropping open.

"If… Oh." Dr. Francis turned from the monitor, noticing this tense moment between us.

Nik remained silent, staring at me with wonder and shock.

"It was just a scare," Dr. Francis confirmed. "You'll be fine with a couple of days of resting. And both your babies are as healthy as they can be for this gestational mark."

I blinked, jarred from staring back at Nik with tears stinging my eyes.

" Babies? " More than one?