Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)

“No, I haven’t talked to Brynn today. If I had, I would’ve told her to leave him alone anyway.”

“That’s probably smart. I figure his phone’s probably already blowing up with women calling him and begging for autographed pairs of his dirty boxers.”

He laughs and the sound makes me smile, which takes my mind off the dull ache in my gut. “Nah… Kill doesn’t have dirty boxers to give away. He tosses them and wears a new pair every day. Probably makes his butler go out and buy him the ten-thousand-thread-count kind.”

I’m not smiling anymore because whatever humor was in Ryder’s voice is gone. “What happened?”

“What—?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Ry. You’re clearly pissed at Killian. Why?”

He exhales hard. “I shouldn’t have called you. I just didn’t know who else to tell.”

“Tell what?” I press my palm to my lower abdomen. “Is he okay?” Please, don’t tell me the engagement rumors are true.

“Okay is debatable.”

“Stop messing with me.” My back and abdomen cramp. “I’m freaking out here.”

“I talked to him.”

I jerk upright and stare blindly across the kitchen. “And?”

He makes a frustrated sound. “He’s changed, Ax.”

“Changed? How?”

“I’ve been calling and texting the guy since he left, and he’s never gotten back to me. The only reason I got him on the phone today was because he answered, thinking it was someone else.”

That doesn’t sound like Killian at all. He’s the most loyal friend I’ve ever had, and even though he’s basically famous now, he’s not the type who buys into his own hype and gets arrogant. No way. Not Kill.

“He’s busy. I’m sure it’s not personal.”

“He said as much, but I don’t buy it. Who’s too busy to send a text? Fuck, that can be done at a stoplight.”

He’s got a point. “Fame is all so new to him; it’ll take some getting used to. You know Killian’s never been the most popular kid in school; now he is. Give him some time to soak that in and be that guy for a little w—” I double over as a cramp squeezes my lower body. “While.” I spit out the last word through clenched teeth.

“John-Mayer syndrome, I get it.”

Sweat breaks out across my forehead. “Right, that’s all it is—” Oh God! My back and womb squeeze hard, feeling like they’re crushing my spine between them. I groan and move the phone from my ear. Shit, shit, shit! This is bad.

“…you there? Axelle, talk to me! Are you okay?”

“I’m not feeling well. I—argg!” I drop the phone on the floor and double over hard, just as a gushing heat coats my inner thighs. “Oh no, no…”

Ryder’s yelling through the phone. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I know he’s panicking.

I grab my phone and breathe through the pain. “Ryder, listen…” Another cramp squeezes hard enough to take my breath away. My eyes water, and I look down to see my light gray sweatpants soaked in bright blood. “Call Blake, okay? Tell him…just tell him that…”

I think I’m losing the baby.

~~~

From my bed in the dim light of the spare bedroom, I stare at my mom, who’s talking on the phone with Dr. Schwartz.

“She took a shower and has a heating pad, yes.” My mom looks over at me with sympathy. “I’ll bring her in tomorrow. Thank you.”

Luckily, Ryder called Blake the second I asked him to, and within five minutes, they were home. I was afraid to leave the kitchen and go to the bathroom because I wouldn’t be able to see Jack from there, so I was curled up on the kitchen floor when they came in.

Blake wanted to take me to the hospital, but my mom calmed him down, saying, “It’s a miscarriage; she’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t convinced and demanded the number to my OB. Another five minutes later they verified what mom had said.

I’m losing the baby.

“The doctor said to take you to the hospital if you get a fever or if the bleeding gets worse.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry, honey.”

I sniff back tears. “What if it was something I did, ya know? I don’t think I drank enough water and—”

“Shh…your doctor said this isn’t uncommon. For whatever reason, the baby wasn’t healthy enough to grow.” She nods and continues to stroke my hair. “She’d mentioned that the father’s lifestyle might have something to do with it, or it could’ve been any of a bunch of different factors that have nothing to do with you.”

That makes sense. Who knows what drugs the guy was using and what all they were doing to his sperm?

“I can’t help but feel like I lost something important. Really, really important.”

“You bond instantly with your baby on some primal level, even if you’re not fully aware of it.”

I wipe a wayward tear from my cheek. “I didn’t realize how much I loved him until I lost him.”

Her smile quivers. “He was a boy, huh?”

“Maybe.” Or maybe the loss I’m feeling is for my best friend. Because not having him here when I need him most amplifies the hole in my heart he left behind.