Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“You will,” Spencer told her solemnly. “We all will. There is nothing that this baby will want that won’t be provided.”
“So he or she will end up spoiled, huh?” she teased.
“Yep, just like their mama.”
Yeah, she was spoiled. Leaning in, he kissed her lightly. Then he stood and clapped his hands. “I think we need to get in the Christmas spirit. Christmas carols and hot chocolate.”
She had been feeling a bit off today so she wasn’t sure that her stomach could handle hot chocolate, but she smiled and nodded.
Spencer bounced off into the kitchen.
Indie glanced down at her hands. Did they look puffier than normal? And her feet . . . did they seem more swollen?
Shit.
Indie rubbed at her head. Flashes of light filled her vision.
No. No!
A sharp pain on her right side made her cry out. She gathered all of her breath. “Spencer!”
As he rushed in, she started to tremble and shake.
And then she knew nothing at all.
Spencer paced up and down the waiting room.
Terror filled him.
He’d never been as scared as when he’d rushed into the living room to find her lying on the floor, convulsing.
Spencer glanced up as the door to the waiting room opened and the guys rushed in.
He’d called the three of them on the way to the hospital.
“What the fuck happened?” Slade practically roared. “Where is she?”
For once no one tried to calm him down. Spencer suddenly realized how much calmer Slade had been lately. He’d barely lost his temper, hadn’t broken any glasses.
Because of her.
Their girl.
Please let her be all right.
Quaid strode over to him. “Talk.”
Spencer swallowed. “I was making hot chocolate when I heard her scream my name. I raced into the living room to find her . . . to find her convulsing on the floor and then she blacked out. I rang the ambulance and kept her in the recovery position. And that’s it. That’s all I know. They took her away and I don’t know anything else.”
A sob tried to work its way up his throat but he swallowed it down.
“Not your fault,” Rock told him.
“I left her alone . . . I left her and went to the bathroom and she walked into the living room on her own. Then we were talking about Christmas and how hers sucked as a child and I was reassuring her that Button would have everything he or she could want. And then I left her . . .” This time a sob did rip out of him.
And to his complete shock, it was Quaid who drew him into his arms. Quaid who held him and whispered reassurances as tears dripped down his face.
“Mr. Slade.”
They all turned at the woman’s voice, spotting Indie’s doctor.
Spencer wiped his eyes with his hand. “How is she? Is she all right?”
The woman was solemn. “I’m sorry, she’s very ill. And the only way to help her now is to deliver the baby.”
Spencer sucked in a breath. “But she’s not quite twenty-eight weeks.”
“Yes, I know. But twenty-seven weeks is still viable. The baby will need to stay in the intensive care unit for a while and there might be complications. But we have to do this to save Indie’s life and give the baby a chance.”
“Then do it,” Slade said.
They’d already set things up with their lawyer so that they were Indie’s emergency contacts and that Slade had power of attorney for medical decisions.
Slade signed the paperwork and the doctor rushed off.
Now all they could do was wait.
And he fucking hated it.
64
Rock stood opposite the waiting room door.
Waiting.
He couldn’t not look at the door.
Because the surgery had to be done so quickly, they were putting her under anaesthetic. Which meant they couldn’t go in, couldn’t be with her.
How would she know they were waiting for her? That they were here for her?
He should be there, watching over her.
Instead, he was here, twiddling his thumbs. He fucking hated this.
“I’ve called Margo and let her know,” Spencer said. “And my family. What about Edward?”
Slade grunted. He’d always had a tumultuous relationship with his dad, but it had been made worse by the way Edward had treated Indie when he’d announced his intention to divorce her mum.
“I’ll message him.”
The door opened and Rock straightened. The doctor walked in looking tired, but . . . happy? He couldn’t be sure.
“How is she?” Slade snapped at her. “Is she all right?”
Rock’s heart was in his throat. He felt physically ill.
If something happened to his girl . . . he would become a shell again. He’d lived that way for so long that it had shocked him when she’d brought light and color into his life.
Happiness.
It had made him lighter. And he needed her for that.
He needed her.
“Indie is doing well. Her blood pressure is stable for now and we’re just waiting for her to wake up from the anesthetic, which will take some time. She’ll be groggy and tired for a while. The next forty-eight hours are the most critical, but we got to her in time. We have her on a magnesium sulfate drip to prevent any more seizures. If there aren’t any complications over the next two days, I expect she’ll make a full recovery. But she will be monitored closely.”