Part 29 (2/2)

I push the duvet off of me and slide to the edge of the mattress. Trembling, I run a hand over the sheet. The bed is warm with blood. I have to get to the bathroom. I stand. My knees buckle under me, and I fall to the floor.

Morocco nudges my elbow, meowing. The pain is crus.h.i.+ng me, but I crawl forward. Part way there, I halt.

I'm panting. Grabbing at my stomach. Morocco pushes his head into me.

”Okay,” I breathe.

I make it to the bathroom before I collapse onto the linoleum. I understand what's happening, and I finally let go of the wail stuck in my throat. Morocco lies at my head and licks my hair as I sob.

Two months into my second trimester. How did I not realize something was wrong?

This tiny human, half Maverick, half me.

I'm dizzy. Dark spots cloud the corners of my vision, and I think if I close my eyes, I may not open them again. But I'm tired. I'm so, so tired.

Distantly, I hear the front door open, but I have no voice to call out to him. I'm empty, broken, fading.

Morocco cries. Maverick's footfalls grow heavier and quicker.

”Alieya?” He flips on the light.

His gaze roams over the floor and lands on me. Fear drains the color from his face.

All I see is dark, dark crimson.

And then there's nothing.

Maverick's voice wakes me. We're in an unfamiliar room. A hospital. An IV protrudes from the back of my hand. I follow the tube up to the stand. Two bags hang from it, one with clear liquid, the other with garnet.

”She lost a lot of blood,” the nurse tells him. ”We gave her one unit during the procedure, and we're giving her one unit now. She needs to rest.”

”And the baby?” he asks.

She shakes her head. ”I'm sorry.”

I look away. I already know he's gone, but hearing the words...

b.u.mblebee.

Emerald.

Marigold.

Violet.

Magenta.

Periwinkle.

I say the colors in my mind as they slowly fade from existence.

Chapter 47.

Present day 6:05 p.m.

”Blood pressure and red blood cell counts are both in the normal range now,” Laney says, taking the cuff off of Maverick's arm. ”It's very good.”

”Does that mean he can wake up now? That he's okay?” I ask, hopeful.

”It just means his vitals are stable. What's going on in his head is a different story.”

”The concussion?”

”The brain works differently; it heals differently. So right now, his stabilized blood pressure and lab work means the surgery was effective, but we'll keep him sedated for the full twenty-four hours.”

I look at the clock. ”That's seven more hours.”

”Dr. Santos will be making her rounds soon. For now, we're going to cut back on the blood pressure checks to once an hour.”

I sink back into my chair, my hand automatically going to my stomach.

I can't lose Maverick too.

I hold his hand between both of mine and raise it to my mouth. ”I'm sorry, Mav. I didn't mean what I said. I'm still fighting, I swear, and I need you to fight too. Now come back to me so I can kiss you again.”

Chapter 48.

Chicago, Illinois One month ago ”How are the colors?” Finley whispers.

Mav looks over his shoulder at me. I'm in bed, awake.

”Fading,” he says.

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