Midnight Sanctuary (Bugrov Bratva #2)(31)

“It’s gonna be okay,” I tell her softly. “You’re gonna be okay.”

She doesn’t say a word. Her face is paler than I’ve ever seen it and the eight-minute drive to the hospital is the longest of my life. I bark at Chekhov twice to drive faster and then I curse at him for driving too fast.

My chest feels tight. It’s like every beat is costing me something. Looking down at her doesn’t help a goddamn thing. She just looks so sad… so lost.

I would give anything to make sure she’s alright. I would literally kill if it means I could save her.

She’s loaded onto a gurney when we get to St. Mary’s Memorial and rolled into one of the emergency rooms. I follow her in and bark at a nurse who tells me that I need to stay out. It isn’t until I see Emily that I calm down a little.

“Uri,” she says urgently, rushing over to me, “I’m gonna take care of her, okay? But you need to wait out here.”

“No,” I growl. “I’m coming in.”

“That wouldn’t be helpful. I can’t look after you and help Alyssa at the same time. Now, please, stay here and I’ll send a nurse with an update.”

She has to physically push me out of the room. I spend the next half-hour pacing the corridor outside the emergency room like a caged animal, my thoughts going haywire.

Is this my fault? Is my anger going to cost me Alyssa’s trust? Will my pride cost me my unborn children?

But no matter how many times I ask the questions or how many laps I do in the lobby, there are no answers to be found.





“Uri.”

I whip around to see Emily. I hadn’t even noticed her exit the emergency room. “Is she okay?”

She gives me a reassuring smile. “She’s fine. Stable for now. Everything looks good.”

“Everything?” I repeat. “Does that mean…?”

“The babies are good, too. There was some fetal distress, but I managed to get in there in time. Alyssa and the babies are all going to be fine.”

The relief that floods my body is so powerful that I have to sit down for a second. Emily follows me to the chairs set up against the wall and takes the seat next to me.

“She’s being moved to a room in the ward. You’ll be able to see her there in a few minutes.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Uri… we’re not joking when we say that pregnant women need to avoid stress during their pregnancies. She needs to be in a state of calm if she’s going to carry those children to term. And you have to help with that.”

“I know. Fuck, I know.”

“Good. I won’t lecture you anymore. Now, take a deep breath and go and see your family.”

Family. That word puts shit into perspective, whether I like it or not. It also forces me to come to another realization, one that I’ve been trying to avoid for some time now.

When Chekhov appeared at my door, when I saw the blood, when I carried Alyssa into my arms and brought her here… my first and only thoughts were for her. I was worried about the babies, of course, but my primary concern was for her.

Fuck.

Once I’ve taken the breath that Emily advised, I make my way to the ward where Alyssa was moved. She’s lying on the bed, hooked up to a machine that’s reading her pulse and pressure. She still looks pale and fragile. But her eyes are cracked open a fraction—searching. Hoping.

“Alyssa,” I rasp, sweeping towards her bedside.

I’ve been a fool. I’ve been a brute and an asshole. I’ve blamed her for my mistakes, my shortcomings.

I’ve blamed her for the fact that I can’t seem to get her out of my head or my heart.

It may have taken the risk of losing her to make me realize it, but at least I can see the light now. It’s time to stop being the childish thug I have been. It’s time to make things right.

It’s time to man the fuck up and protect what’s mine.





20





URI





Alyssa’s eyes settle on me hazily. She blinks a couple of times as though she can’t be sure that I’m standing in front of her. I don’t blame her—she has no reason to believe I’d be here to hold her hand in the aftermath.

I step closer and lower my face to hers. “You’re alright. So are the babies.”

“Both?” she murmurs.

“Both.”

She closes her eyes so tight that it squeezes the tears out. When she opens them again, she lets out a deep breath. The color on her cheeks eases with the inhale. =

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“Scared,” she admits. “Relieved. Nervous. Worried. All of the above.”

“Don’t be. Emily knows what she’s doing. She said you’d be fine and I believe her.”

“I don’t know what happened. One minute, I was okay and the next thing I knew, I was bleeding all over the sheets…”

I take her hand and her eyes snap down. She looks startled by the contact. “It was my fault,” I say softly. “I should have put all my energy into making you feel safe and calm. Instead, I chose to punish you for something that was never your fault.”