I have watched people die in front of me. The intensity in moments like that change you forever. Watching someone die that you have known all your life carries an entirely different level of staying power. Even with first responders arriving within minutes, Chief McKelvy died on the scene.

Doing him proud, Detective Ashmead regained her composure as best she could and took control, beginning with closing off the entire block to any traffic other than law enforcement and medical personnel. She also demanded I be loaded up into an ambulance and taken straight to the hospital in Milford the moment she noticed that I got banged up. Though I protested, I was overruled when Schrader all but strapped me onto a stretcher himself. Thankfully, since he wasn’t allowed to ride in the ambulance with me, Schrader was forced to follow behind in my car. Whether it really was a protocol thing or not, I was grateful when the driver refused to let him in the back with me before closing the doors. Truth be told, I think he made them as stressed as he did me.

After being scanned and poked, I am left alone in a room to wait for my results. When the door finally does open, I am shocked when Torch’s sister, Henley, walks into the room. “Hey, girl. I thought that was your name on the board.” Sitting down beside me on the bed, she nudges me with her elbow. “If you needed some girl time, you could’ve just called.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I shrug, forcing out a laugh. “Is Schrader pacing in the hallway?” I ask, knowing he is more than likely losing his goddamn mind right about now since he isn’t back here hovering over me like some bearded mother hen.

“I threatened to drug him and lock him in the psych ward if he didn’t go take a piss or grab a coffee,” she informs me. “He knows how good I am with a needle so he’s kept his pacing restricted to the waiting room.”

“Good. Last thing I need is him treating me like a china doll.” Yanking a hand through my hair, I wince when my palm hits the knot on the side of my head.

“You okay?” she asks, concern filling her features.

“Yeah,” the word rushes out of me. “How long until I can get the hell out of here?”

“Hello, Cheyenne, I’m Doctor Geiss.” Stepping into the room, is a short, brunette woman who looks to be in her late fifties. “I’ve reviewed your labs and all your scans appear to be normal, but I’d still like you to follow up with your OB-GYN in the next few days as a precaution. Hmm.” Looking at my chart, her brows pinch together as she studies the page. “You know, for some reason your pregnancy wasn’t on your intake paperwork when you were brought in.”

“My what?” I croak, bolting upright in the bed. “No. No. No,” I mutter, shaking my head. “That can’t be right. I’m not having a baby.”

“Yes.” Turning it so that I can see, Dr. Geiss points to a line on the center of the page. “Says right here you’re pregnant.” When her eyes meet mine, the smile slips right off her face. “I guess this means you didn’t know.” I barely manage to nod in response. Placing the chart down on a nearby table, she gives me a sad smile. “I apologize if this isn’t happy news. I’ll give you a moment and go check on your discharge paperwork. Henley, be sure to check her vitals again once she is cleaned up.”

“Absolutely, Doc,” Henley replies, pushing to her feet as the doctor leaves the room.

“Oh my God,” I swallow hard. My head spins and my stomach churns. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not like this. “If I’m pregnant, that means—”

“It’s D.A.’s,” Henley finishes for me, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Shit. I’m so sorry, honey.”

“Troy,” I breathe, his name leaving a sour taste in my mouth. “I can’t believe this.”

Walking over to the cabinets on the wall, Henley begins gathering some supplies. Placing them on a rolling table, she pushes it toward the bed with her foot. She grabs a pair of gloves, saying nothing as she pulls them on and heads my way again. My mind races, desperately trying to process even a small fraction of the news I was just given while Henley handles my mess of a face and busted up shoulder, but I can’t. My rational thinking has officially gone on strike and my emotions are left running rampant with no control over where that takes my thoughts.

“Henley?” I ask, once she yanks off her gloves and tosses them into the trashcan.

“Hmm?” she asks, glancing back at me over her shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I plead, forcing back the tears. “Please.”

“Don’t tell anyone what?” Schrader asks, striding into the room. His eyes roam over me, making me feel uncomfortable as hell.

“That she hates needles,” Henley blurts. Looking to me quickly, her eyes fill with silent understanding. “Oops!” Slapping Schrader on the arm, she shrugs. “Looks like the secret’s out.”

“Who could fuckin’ blame her?” he winces. “Especially if you’re the one wieldin’ the damn thing.”

“Pussy,” she teases. Picking up my chart from the table, Henley tucks it under her arm and heads for the door. “I’ll be back with your discharge paperwork in a few. If you need anything, hit the call button on the side of the bed.”

“Thanks, Henley.”

Schrader is at my side before Henley manages to get the door closed. Sitting beside me, he brushes the tips of his fingers through my hair, brushing it over my shoulder so it tumbles down my back. “Those motherfuckers,” he mutters through gritted teeth as he lightly touches my bandage. “Jinks is here. He’s fillin’ out insurance shit down the hall.”

“You shouldn’t have called him.” Swatting his hand away, I shift in the bed so he isn’t touching me. “I’m fine and the club has enough to deal with right now.”

“He knew before I called him,” Schrader informs me. “Must’ve heard it on the scanners.” Wrapping an arm around me, he leans over and buries his face in my hair, breathing me in. “You scared the shit outta me, woman.”

“Don’t,” I croak, closing my eyes tightly. “Please, don’t.”

“I need to hold on to you for a minute,” his voice softens, lacking its usual strength. Bringing my hands up to his chest, I start to push him away and tell him how angry and hurt I still am because of Rachelle, but I can’t. Instead, my fingers tighten, fisting his cut and t-shirt. “Closer,” Schrader breathes, his other arm coming around me, carefully pulling me into his lap. As tears fall silently from my eyes, I press my cheek to his chest, wishing that his embrace could push back all heartache I feel churning in my chest.

My thoughts shift to the baby growing inside me. Only months ago, this news would have been a reason to celebrate. I always dreamed of being the mother that I never had. I wanted my babies to have two loving parents that would be there for them, no matter what, like Pop has always been there for Decoda and me. Now, happiness is the last thing on my mind. I feel like my body has betrayed me just as much as Troy did. Secretly, I had hoped that, in time, I would find a way to forget that he ever existed and pretend that I wasn’t so stupid and naïve.

Instead, he has given me a permanent reminder.

“Start the group hug without me?” My brother’s voice behind me pulls me from my thoughts. “I see how it is, assholes.”

“Hey.” Releasing my hold on Schrader, I slide back onto the mattress, making sure to swipe the tears from my eyes before making eye contact with either of them. Shifting on the bed, I slide my legs over the side to stand up.

Striding across the room, Jinks wraps his arms around me the moment my feet hit the floor. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks a lot, D,” I huff, rolling my eyes. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“If you really want to know,” he replies, releasing his hold on me enough to look me over. “I think you should be wrapped in bulletproof bubble wrap and never allowed to leave the lot again.”

“I’m fine,” I say again, for what feels like the millionth time since the gun fire started. “How about you save your bitchin’ and take me home.”

“Alright, alright,” Henley says, strutting into the room, her hips in full sway. “Boys, I need you to wait outside. I’ve gotta handle her discharge instructions, and I assume she doesn’t want to walk outta here in that thing,” she giggles, gesturing to the ugly blue and white gown they had me put on when I got here. “Then you’re all set.”

Schrader’s eyes shift from me, to my brother, to Henley, then back to me again. Though I can tell he wants to tell Henley to kiss his ass and refuse to leave the room, he doesn’t. Nodding his head, he pushes to his feet, following Jinks into the hall and closing the door behind them.

“Dr. Geiss and I put some things together for you,” she says, handing me a large manilla envelope. “She’s recommended a colleague of hers for you to see. There’s also some information on other options, as well as the name and contact information of a clinic in Knoxville.”

“Other options?” I ask, swallowing hard. “You mean abortion?”

“That’s only one option of many, Cheyenne,” she assures me, no doubt trying to put my mind at ease. “Everyone has their own beliefs on abortion, adoption, and all of that shit. I’m no different. However, you didn’t ask my personal opinion. Also, I make it a habit, while I am on duty, to present patients under my care with all the options and not push them in the direction that I would go if I were standing in your shoes.”

“And if I wanted your advice?” I ask, honestly wanting another take on this situation. “If you were standing here right now, dealing with these same circumstances, what would you do?”

“Best advice I can give you right now, Cheyenne, is not to hide this shit from them.” Breathing deep, Henley points toward the door. “You know all too well how lies and secrets have a way of only makin’ shit worse. Besides, you’re gonna need their support.”

“They have enough on their plates as it is,” I reply, shaking my head. “I refuse to add to that. I can take care of myself and a baby, if that’s what happens. This isn’t their problem.”

“This meaning you?” she asks, arching a brow. “Or the baby?”

“I don’t see the point of splitting hairs.” I look down at my still flat mid-section. “Pretty safe to say we’re a package deal.”

“Are you really that afraid of their reaction?” she asks, studying me carefully.

“I fucked up,” I reply, honestly. “I keep fucking up.”

“Damn right you are,” she continues, taking a step closer to me. “Every single time you feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong, Cheyenne. He. Did.”

“I know that,” I admit, nodding my head. “Most of the time I even believe it.”

“Good.” Seeming satisfied with my answer, Henley flips through the stack of paperwork. “These are your prescriptions. Something baby friendly for pain, along with some antibiotics and an inflammatory to handle your busted-up self. You’re gonna be bruised and sore for a few days. Make sure to get lots of rest.” Pulling a pen from her pocket, she hands it to me. “Sign and date here and you’re good to go,” she smirks. “Unless you need to talk about anything else?”

“I’m good,” I assure her, scribbling my name quickly. “Thanks.”

“Not even about how you’re fucking Schrader?” My eyes shoot to hers, widening. Henley laughs. “Aha!” Clapping her hands, she smiles, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “I knew it!”

“Did he tell you?” I hiss, my eyes shooting to the door. “I’ll kill him.”

“No,” she replies, batting her eyes innocently. “You did.”

“Jesus,” I groan, covering my face with my hand.

“Come on,” she pleads, nudging my arm. “I’ve seen his ass up close and personal when I stitched it up. Tell me all about how you bit into it like Mrs. PACMAN the moment you got his pants off.”

Blowing out a breath, I drop my hand to scrutinizing gaze. “Schrader and I are friends,” I argue, to which she arches her brow higher. “Okay. Friends who had sex once.”

“Once?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot expectantly.

“Twice.” My face flames, making her laugh.

“You’re sure it isn’t his?” she asks thoughtfully, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes.

“Unless it was conceived in the last twenty-four hours, and Schrader’s swimmers can slice through latex, then no. It’s Troy’s.”

“Okay. But it’s yours, too.” Henley smiles sadly, her eyes dropping to my stomach. Grabbing her part of the paperwork, she heads for the door. Gripping the door handle, she stops. Her shoulders slump slightly, but she doesn’t turn to look at me. “Promise me you won’t get so wrapped up in your hate for Troy and what he did, and forget that.”