A chorus of staccato gasps sounds from behind me, sending the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up on end.

“She fainted!” a woman cries.

The announcement makes my stomach twist. Somehow, someway, I already know she’s talking about Lauren. Turning in my seat, I find confirmation of my fears. Lauren is on the ground, her eyes closed and her body limp.

Fear like I’ve never felt before pummels me. I’ve had knives and guns pulled on me. I’ve had my life threatened more times than I can count. All of those moments had my pulse going and adrenaline pounding, but none of them was like this.

Because I’ve never had someone to be afraid for.

I don’t even make the decision to move. I just do. It’s instinctual. The cards are out of my hands and I’m flying across the short distance between me and the crowd surrounding Lauren. I push a guy out of the way and drop to my knees.

A woman holding a cocktail in one hand fans her other palm over Lauren’s face. “Wake up, honey.”

I take her head and hold it up. Beneath her closed lids, I can see her eyes moving. She’s in there, somewhere.

“Lauren,” I gasp.

She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant.

It’s all I can think. She’s pregnant, and now, something bad has happened. She’s not all right. The baby—my baby, our baby—is not all right.

“Let me see,” a man says nearby.

He drops down next to me and pries one of her lids open. “I’m a doctor,” he explains to no one in particular. “What happened?”

“She just collapsed!” a woman says. A murmur goes through the crowd, and people in the back excitedly ask others what was happening.

“Someone call an ambulance,” the doctor commands. “She might have just fainted, but we should get her to the hospital.” He looks at me still holding her head. “Are you with her?”

My mouth is so parched I can barely get one word out. “Yes.”

His eyes slide over to the poker table behind me. “Aren’t you playing?”

I want to shake him for asking such a worthless question when Lauren is laying on the floor, unconscious. The anger wakes me from my stupor, though. I quickly look around at the people staring. No one has their phone out.

“Someone call an ambulance!” I shout. “She’s pregnant!”

The spell on everyone else seems to break, as well. A woman pulls out her phone and makes a call to the emergency services. I stay where I am, my gaze focused on Lauren.

Someone brings a wet cloth and I wipe it against her forehead. She’s so sweaty, so pale. Questions fly through my mind. Why did she faint? Is she going to be all right?

And is she mad at me? I walked over to the table without saying anything about the baby. She doesn’t know how I really feel…

The doctor lightly touches my shoulder. “I can watch over her,” he says, “so you can get back to the game.”

“No.”

He looks uncertain, like he’s going to say something else, but then, he just closes his mouth and nods. Behind us, I know the game is going on, but I’ve never cared less about poker in my life.

If anything happens to Lauren… If anything happens to the baby…I can’t even finish the thoughts.

I stroke her face. “Lauren, wake up. Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Two medics arrive and I step back while they examine her. My heart is still beating wildly, though, and I’m one second away from screaming.

“What happened to her?” I demand. “Why did she faint? She’s pregnant. Could that be why?”

“There’s no way to tell just yet,” the female medic says in a thick French accent. “We are taking her to Princess Grace. You can meet us there.”

I nod. I don’t know where that hospital is, but I should be able to hail a taxi.

They lift Lauren onto a stretcher and carry her away. She looks even paler than she did a few minutes ago. Clutching at the roots of my hair, I follow close behind. The ambulance is on the curb in front of the casino, its lights flashing.

“I need a car,” I tell the doorman. “Right away. It’s an emergency. I need to get to Princess Grace.”

He nods and speaks to someone else in French. The ambulance is already pulling away, its siren on. I scan the curb for my car, pacing as I do so.

“Looks like you lost your nerve in there.”

I don’t need to turn around to know who’s talking. My teeth grind together and my vision turns red.

“Not now, Petit,” I growl. “Trust me. You do not want to start something with me right now.”

“Is your girlfriend all right?”

He could have asked in the sweetest tone possible, and I still would have known he didn’t give a shit. A man like Petit cares about no one but himself. He thrives on knocking others down and using their corpses as stairs to get to the top.

My exhale is so hot it burns my nose. “Get out of my face. Now.”

He doesn’t. Instead, he steps down to join me on the curb. “The game is over.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the game.”

He raises his eyebrows, pretending to be surprised.

“Did you not hear me the first time?” I bark. “Get the hell out of here.”

“Jones won,” he loftily responds. “He cheated, of course, but the security here is so relaxed, they’ll never catch him. It’s a shame, really.”

I turn and address the doorman. “Where’s that car?”

“On the way, sir.” He eagerly bobs his head. “It is on the way.”

“You’re not actually going to the hospital, are you?” Petit sneers. “She’s probably lying about being pregnant, anyway…or, it’s someone else’s. Women like that are all the same. They want a man’s money, and nothing else.”

My nails dig into my palms. It’s been a long time since I lost my temper, but everyone has their limit.

He keeps talking like it’s his fucking job and anyone who gets to listen to him is lucky.

“And you, you really made a mistake back there, Hammond. Leaving the table, giving it all up for a woman…” His cold eyes meet mine. “You really are weak, aren’t you?”

Enough is enough.

I’m pulling my arm back before I’ve fully decided I’m going to do it. My fingers lock in tight and my fist hits the side of Petit’s jaw with a satisfying crack. He falls to the pavement, his body crumpling from the blow.

Petit looks up at me in shock, eyes wide, like a scared animal’s. His tongue flicks out, tasting the bit of blood from his split lip. I could have broken his jaw if I wanted to, or I could have knocked him out. I know how to lay one clean punch that will make either of those options happen, and I’ve done both before.

He staggers to his feet and takes a step back. Just like I thought, he’s not looking for a real fight. He wouldn’t know what to do if he ever found himself in one.

I take a small step toward him. “Don’t talk to either of us ever again, or I’ll break your fucking face open.”

A car pulls up right next to me and doorman scurries forward to open the back door. I climb into the car without a backward glance.