“And my wife?”
“She’s in recovery. After a couple hours of observation, we should be able to get her into a room. You’re welcome to go back and see her, but everyone else will have to wait until she’s out of the ICU.”
Before the doc says another word, Jonah’s moving down the hallway, followed by the doctor, to see his daughter for the first time.
My head gets light. I wobble on my feet and grab the back of a chair. Fuck. I rub my eyes, brushing off my dizzy spell to exhaustion and stress.
“Two down. One to go,” Layla says quietly to Blake, who only nods.
One to go.
Eve.
Thirty-Three
Eve
I blacked out.
Don’t remember anything after waking up this morning until I woke up in a hospital bed with the worst headache of my life.
The nurse explained that Raven and I had been in a car accident. Hit and run. I was knocked out immediately, or at least that’s what they’re telling me. No matter how hard I try to pull up the memories, my mind is blank, a black hole that gapes between this morning and now.
I wish I had answers, but all I know is that Raven was rushed into surgery, and that’s enough to keep my mind occupied and my heart racing.
If anything happens to the baby, she’ll never recover. And if anything happens to her, I’ll never recover.
My eyes slide shut, and I cry out another plea to God. Please, let her and the baby be okay. They have to be okay.
The sound of heavy footfalls pulls me from my prayer. I jerk to sit up and my vision swims. The splitting cramp in my side and stabbing pain above my right ear send me back to the pillow. Fuck!
I roll my head to the side, surprised I’m even able to do that since it seems to weigh six hundred pounds, to see Jonah pushing past the curtain.
“Jonah.” My voice is shredded with worry and lack of use. “The baby?”
He lifts his eyes to mine, and I gasp at the pure heartache I see in them. Oh no.
“Raven and the baby . . .” I blink to clear my vision and unleash tears that sting my cheeks. “Tell me they’re okay.”
He moves to the chair close to my bed and drops into it, his head in his hands. “They’re okay. She’s in recovery. Broken ribs, arm. Fuck, Eve, what the fuck were you guys thinking?”
A whisper of relief filters through my body but is quickly drowned out by confusion. “I don’t . . .” I lift my hand to the bandage on my head. “I don’t remember anything.”
His bloodshot eyes find mine, and I suck in a breath. A man like Jonah, who’s usually so strong and confident, now resembles a broken and fragile boy. “She promised me she’d stay away from the Nova,” he whispers.
I shake my head as much as I can without wincing. “She’d never take out the Nova. She told me she promised you, and she’d never take it out.”
Wait, but I remember trying to talk her into it weeks ago. Was that weeks or . . . ?
He laughs, but the sound crackles with confusion. “You girls got T-boned in the Nova, Eve.” His eyes meet mine, determined. “So tell me”—he leans in, his glare turning into something feral, dangerous—“what the fuck were you guys thinking!”
I press back into my bed, wanting to escape the agony I hear in his voice and see in his expression. “I . . . I don’t know.” More tears fall and drip off my jaw.
Reaching back into my memory, I try to sort out what must’ve happened. After seeing Cameron at his place with D’lilah, I was upset. Then my Dad sent that guy to my house, looking for money. Jonah picked me up, I spent the night with them, and then . . . nothing.
“I can’t remember. I’d tell you if I could, but . . .” My fingertips press into my temples.
“This is so fucked!” he roars. “My wife is recovering from surgery while my daughter is in a fucking tiny oven keeping her warm with tubes coming—”
“Daughter?” Goose bumps dance down my arms. “The baby’s here? She’s a . . . she?”
A softness touches Jonah’s expression, finally melting some of the anger he arrived here with. “Sadie.”
“Sadie.” I test the name on my lips then blink up at him. “It’s perfect.”
“She’s fucking perfect, but, Eve”—he shakes his head, his face twisting in pain—“she’s so damn small.”
“I’m so sorry. I wish . . .” What can I say? “I’m sorry.”
He nods once. “Raven made me promise that when the baby was born I’d make sure to keep them together. She didn’t want to be separated for even a second. Now my wife is on a different level of the hospital from our daughter. She’s sleeping, but when she wakes up . . .” He shakes his head. “I should be grateful that everyone’s alive, but fuck, I told her to stay the hell out of that car!” He digs his hands into his hair.
Silence hangs heavy in the room for minutes or hours. The concept of time is lost on me, and I wish like hell I had answers.