Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
She pauses, bending down to retrieve them at the same time that I catch sight of a man with a gun. Everything happens at once. The man fires as I shove her to the ground, doing my best to take the brunt of the fall even as I keep her beneath the protection of my body.
Mia screams. People around them shout, in a panic. And I have to let the shooter go to concentrate on Mia.
He turned her onto her back. “Hey, baby.” He looked into her eyes, his heart pounding with the thought that he could have lost her. “Are you okay?”
She shakes her head, and I glance down, seeing flecks of blood staining through her clothes. Jesus Christ, she’s been shot. Nausea rushes through me.
I pull her into my arms, covering her body with my own. “Fuck.” Anger and fury pulse inside me, both at myself and the bastard who was so brazen as to shoot in a crowd.
I glance around, but we are surrounded by onlookers, and the assailant is long gone. “Someone call 911!” I shout to the people around us, then refocus on Mia. “I’ll get you out of here, just hang on. I’ve got you.”
Tears pool in her eyes. “I’m fine. My shoulder burns but… I’m okay,” she says, as if I am the one who needs reassuring. “But—”
“Give me a second.” I rip off my jacket and press it against the wound, applying pressure.
She winces at the pain.
“I’m sorry, but I have to staunch the bleeding.”
“Ambulance is on its way,” someone yells to him.
I breathe out a harsh breath.
Suddenly Mia grabs my arm with her good hand. “Austin, I’m scared.”
I lean closer, my lips near her cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”
“But…” She draws a shuddering breath, her gaze hesitant. “I’m pregnant. What about the baby?”
The sound of sirens blares, and relief floods me. She says it is her shoulder that burns, but until I know if that bullet exited and didn’t hit anything vital, I won’t breathe easy.
I suck in a shallow breath, possibility suddenly becoming definite. In the chaos of her getting shot, I forgot my earlier thoughts about her potentially having my baby.
“I know you are,” I say with a soft smile. “I figured it out, but right now we’re going to focus on you, and when the ambulance gets here, we’ll fill them in.”
Her eyes open wide at my admission. “You know?”
“I just figured it out as we pulled into the garage.” I push harder on the jacket as the ambulance pulls up to the curb.
Paramedics run out and push me aside. I know the drill, but it still rankles. “She’s pregnant,” I inform them. “Make sure they’re both okay.”
“We’re on it. Just stay back,” a female says.
I can’t see over their backs or shoulders, and I am in a panic of my own. Finally, they put her on a stretcher, and I run up beside her, grasping her hand.
“Sir, you can’t—”
“I’m her fiancé. I’m coming with her,” I say in my sternest, most insistent voice.
Mia’s eyes grow wide in her now pale face.
Ignoring her shock, I push past the paramedics and join her in the back of the ambulance.
* * *
Mia
I lay on a bed in the emergency room, my shoulder burning, the pain agonizing, but I am fortunate the bullet only grazed me. The amount of blood after the shooting was deceiving as far as the damage done. They gave me a painkiller, assuring me it is safe for the baby in the early stages of pregnancy, and considering the level of pain I am in, I decide not to argue. I’ll take it to get over the initial pain and cut back as soon as possible.
Now I have to face Austin. The fact that they didn’t let him back with me while they worked on my shoulder is a blessing because I didn’t want to deal with the baby talk on top of everything else going on. But now I am alone, it is quiet, and I’ll have to deal with the fact of my pregnancy and my future.
The sweet nurse who was by her side through the worst of the cleaning of the wound went out to get my fiancé, as he called himself to the paramedics. Not that I blame him. The label enabled him to stay by my side, and I appreciated not being alone and afraid at the same time.
“Hello?” Austin pushes aside the curtain. “Is it okay if I come in?”
“Sure.”
He steps into the small cubicle in which I was placed. One look at him, and I know he isn’t doing well. He took off his jacket to staunch my blood loss and now wears a rumpled white shirt, sleeves haphazardly rolled up. His hair stands on end as if he was running his fingers through it over and over again. He is pale, his eyes glazed, and my heart squeezes tight in my chest.