I hate hospitals. The antiseptic smell that hovers over the scent of sickness. The eerie silence interrupted by the electric sound of machines and hushed footsteps in the hall. Even the fucking fluorescent lighting that shines down without mercy, exposing a multitude of sins. There’s nothing at all appealing about the place. I’ve been poked and prodded at by at least a dozen people. After I talk to the cops and they take photos of my various injuries, it’s almost four hours before they finally allow me to shower.

I turn the water to as hot as my skin can stand and scrub until it hurts. I don’t think I’ll ever feel clean again. A nurse left a pair of blue scrubs for me to change into. They are a size too big, but they were clean and free of blood. So, small victories and all.

There’s also a note from Leo. I’m not quite ready to see them. I can’t deal with the uncertainty right now. They’ll have questions and I just... I just can’t.

I’m exhausted and emotionally raw. I feel like I’m hungover. My throat hurts—and will likely hurt for days to come—and I my mind is fuzzy, as though my head has been hollowed out and stuffed with cotton.

The only thing I want to do is go home and sleep for a month.

But the only place I have to go is a half-furnished apartment I’ve never stayed in. It’s not my home. I might as well go to a hotel—at least there I’d have towels and linens.

And what am I going to do with Leo and Asher? They came for me. I didn’t imagine that. Despite the fact I left, they still found me when I needed them. But I don’t know what that means for us. There’s so much still unresolved. I’m not sure we can get past everything that was said. Hell, I essentially broke up with them both via a Dear John letter.

I don’t have a home. I don’t have a job. I don’t even know where the bags with all my clothing ended up. This generic pair of scrubs could be the only thing I own.

Tears threatened again, and I blink them back as another person knocks on the door to come in.

A small, soft woman with curly gray hair wearing light pink scrubs and a long white jacket walks into the room carrying a clipboard. “Hello, Ms. Morningstar. I’m Doctor Jensen from Obstetrics. They asked me to do a consult.”

I stare, blinking at the woman, confused. Then realize that based on the state they found me in, the police must think I was raped. That’s something I can gratefully say didn’t happen.

“I’m fine,” I assure the doctor. I can’t handle another test or procedure, especially one that’s completely unnecessary. “He didn’t rape me.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She lays her hand over mine and squeezes. “But you still went through a lot of trauma. We should check to make sure there isn’t any damage to your uterus and that everything is alright with the baby.”

I snatch back my hand and glare, wide-eyed, at the doctor, sure I heard her wrong. “You’re going to check what?”

“Just a quick ultrasound. I should be done in a few minutes.” The doctor wheels over a large machine and pulls on a pair of gloves. “How far along are you?”

“I’m not pregnant,” I say while trying to do the math in my head. I’m two weeks—no three—late. I think. It’s not the first time I’ve missed a period, or it’s shown up weeks late. My cycles are erratic, especially since I started birth control. I can’t be pregnant.

The other woman frowns and checks the chart. “Your test came back positive. You are definitely pregnant.” Her featured softened and set down the clipboard. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

“But I’m on birth control.”

“Hormonal birth control isn’t a hundred percent, especially when used as the only form of birth control. Missing a dose, stress hormones, illness, medication. A number of things can impact its efficacy. Why don’t we have a look? Just lay back.” She pushes up my top and squeezes a dollop of warm gel on my middle. “Since you didn’t realize you were pregnant, I’m guessing it’s early. Don’t be alarmed if I can’t get a heartbeat. Generally, we can’t detect a heartbeat until after six weeks.”

She moves the probe over my abdomen pressing down until the screen lights up. A soft whoosh-whoosh fills the room, and she points to the black and white screen. “That’s your uterus. Everything looks good. No bleeding or tears, which is good.”

She moves the probe again, pressing down harder, and the sound changes from a whoosh to a fast thump, like a galloping horse. I hold my breath, listening. “And that there—” She points to a small gray blob on the screen. “—that’s your baby. The heartbeat is strong.” She clicks a few buttons on the machine and a photo prints. “I’d say by the size, you’re about eight weeks.”

I take the photo and stare at it while she cleans up the gel. A baby. I can’t even process the idea. Maybe I felt like something was off, but pregnant? Eight weeks? I’ve been pregnant for eight weeks, and I didn’t know.

“I wrote you a prescription for prenatal vitamins. If you have any bleeding or abdominal pain, come back to the ER right away. And I recommend following up with your own doctor in a couple weeks. It’s really important to get proper prenatal care. If that’s not something you can afford, there are a few clinics that offer free care. I’ll include that information in your discharge papers.”

I nod, not really hearing her over the thudding heartbeat in my ears. I try to think back. Eight weeks ago I was having sex almost every night with both Asher and Leo. Almost since the very beginning. We’d stopped using condoms shortly after our first time together after getting checked out. I was on the pill. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

God! I don’t even know who the father is. I’m just like my mother. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to distance myself from her reckless behavior. I ended up in exactly the same place she had. Pregnant, without a clue who’s the father of my baby. What am I going to do now?

I’m not sure how long I sat there staring at the ultrasound photo, but a knock on the door startled me back to the present. “I have two gentlemen out in the waiting room that have been asking to see you since you were brought in. Do you feel up to visitors?”

Based on the state they found me in, I know Leo and Asher must be frantic. I can’t keep them waiting any longer. I shove the ultrasound photo under my pillow and tell her to let them in.

Leo is the first through the door. He comes over to my bed and put his hands on my face. He moves from my face to my shoulder and down to my hips as if checking to make sure I’m whole. “You scared the shit out of me,” he says and leans over to kiss me softly. “Don’t ever do that again.”

I laugh, causing my throat to ache. “I promise not to be abducted by a psychopath ever again.”

Asher is lingering at the far end of the room. We said a lot of things to each other last night. Was it only last night? So much has changed since then. But no matter what was said, he still came for me, and those actions speak louder than any words.

“Come here,” I say, waving him over.

Asher does the same appraisal, checking me from head to toe, pausing at each bruise and cut as if memorizing my injuries. He picks up my left hand where the rope cut into my skin leaving an angry red abrasion and purple bruising.

“Are you… Are you okay?” Asher stumbles over the words, and it breaks my heart.

“I’ll be fine,” I say to myself as much as them. I look to Leo and back to Asher, trying to reassure them. “A few cuts, a whole lot bruising, but I’ll recover.”

At least from the attack. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m going to do about the baby.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner,” Asher says, kissing my wrist. “I’m sorry I let you go last night. If I would have just listened—”

“Stop it,” I say, a little more firmly than I intend. “If I would have waited. If I wouldn’t have pushed. If I would have called a cab instead. There’s a million what ifs. And if I keep thinking about all the things we could have changed, I’ll go insane.”

“Rose is right. We all could have done things differently, and it might not have changed a damn thing,” Leo says. “The one thing we can change is your location. Let’s get you home and tucked into bed. Asher and I will take care of everything. All you need to do is get better.”

His offer sounds perfect, except I can’t go back to their penthouse. I need space and time to figure out what I’m going to do. Especially since everything is so up in the air with our relationship. I don’t want this attack or the baby to push the issue.

“I want to go to my apartment,” I say.

Leo and Asher both stare at me; neither one of them look happy about my choice. “You’re crazy if you think we’re letting you out of our sight,” Leo finally says.

“You don’t have much of a choice,” I say, standing my ground. “I can’t keep living in your guest room. I need space. I need some time to think.”

Asher looks over my bed and shakes his head at Leo, who just frowns. He does it again and narrows his eyes. Leo sighs and nods back. The whole scene happened in just seconds, but I get the feeling they just had an entire conversation.

“We’ll take you to that apartment you rented, but one of us is going to be there at all times,” Asher says.

“What? How is that giving me space?”

“Asher’s right. The police aren’t sure that guy was working alone, and we can’t risk someone else coming after you.”

His reasoning was sound if a bit weak. I don’t have the emotional strength to argue, so I just nod my agreement. It’s still hours before the hospital is willing to release me. Asher makes some calls and Leo arranges for a car, but one of the guys is always by my side.

It is nearly dawn the next day by the time we leave. I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep, but thinking about that sad twin bed and worn sofa in my new apartment brings tears to my eyes. I almost begged them to take me back to the penthouse, if just for tonight. But I can’t be there, under their roof, when I still haven’t told them about the baby. But before I can tell them, I need to fix our relationship, or we need a clean break.

Asher practically carries me up the three flights to my new place. “There’s not much,” I say. “I haven’t had a chance to go furniture shopping, but one of you is welcome to rough it on the sofa.”

I unlock the door and stop in my tracks, pretty sure I just broke into my new neighbor’s apartment. The place is fully furnished. Two sofas, a TV, a dining room table. There are even wine glasses hanging from the rack in the kitchen. I step back out into the hall and check the number. This is the apartment I rented, but this isn’t my stuff.

“I know you wanted to do this without our help,” Leo says. “After last night, we figured you might be willing to bend a little. We can replace anything you don’t like.”

I cover my face with both hands and burst into tears. Fucking sobbing tears.

“Don’t cry,” Leo says, smoothing back my hair. He turns to look over my shoulder and glares at Asher. “I told you we should have asked her first.”

“It’s okay,” Asher says and picks me up, carrying me like a child. “Just let go. We’ve got you.”

I continue to sob into his shirt as he carries me back to the bedroom. I can’t figure out what to feel; happy, angry, grateful, exhausted, sore. A little of all of them. It feels like there’s a swirling vortex of emotional soup welling up inside of me and I can’t keep it contained any longer.

Asher sets me down in bed and pulls the covers around me as Leo turns off the lights. They both crawl into bed and just hold me. I finally fall into a fitful sleep, tucked safely between the two of them. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but tonight I have two strong men to lean on.