“King?”
“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t say hi or ask how I am, but he answers his phone and that’s what matters.
Letting go of the steering wheel, I let my head sag back against the headrest, relieved to hear his voice when I wish I wasn’t.
Sitting on the side of the highway, my car dead and the rear end smashed, I take a deep, shaky breath. “I’ve been in an accident, but—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.
“You what?” he shouts into the phone, his voice loud and rough, making me pull the phone away from my ear. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, taking inventory. Everything works, but… “The EMT wants to take me to the hospital.” Nothing is broken. In fact, I feel fine, but they’re insisting. “Just to check, I guess.” I look out my window at the EMT lingering by my window, waiting.
“Then you’re hurt,” he insists, his voice rising.
“I’m not hurt.”
“The fuck you aren’t if they’re taking you in. Where are you?” There’s no sense in arguing with him. King’s just going to keep getting madder the longer I wait.
“On the side of the 101, right outside of town, but I’m okay,” I assure him, hand on my belly, the baby wiggling and kicking. I can hear King walking through gravel, probably heading toward his bike. I know no matter what I say, he’s coming. The man is a force. “I’ll be at the community hospital,” I relent, knowing he’s already headed my way. There’s no stopping him.
“I’ll be right there.”
Hospitals are for the birds. The beds are uncomfortable and the constant squeezing of the blood pressure cuff is annoying. The nurse has asked me if I’m cold eight times now. I appreciate it, but I’m warm enough. The only thing I want is to go home.
Laying on the bed, scrolling my phone, I hear him before I see him.
“What room’s Samantha in?”
“Sir,” the sweet little nurse says, her voice rising in panic. I can hear the click-clack of her clogs, chasing him down the hall I’m sure. “You’re not family or married, I can’t let you in there.”
I hear King growl, “Bullshit. That’s my fucking woman and baby in there. Try and stop me.”
I listen to his boots on the linoleum, walking with purpose, and smile. He’s nuts.
It only takes a second before his giant, opposing body is in the small doorway, his face thunderous. “Jesus.”
“I’m good.” I laugh softly, enjoying his concerned frown.
The nurse comes bustling in after him, also frowning. “Sir, you really can’t be in here.”
If looks could kill, the poor nurse would be dead on the floor, bleeding out of her ears. “It’s okay. He’s my baby’s father,” I inform her, worried for her safety when he gives her a nasty scowl.
She doesn’t look happy about it. She nods and shoots King a nasty little look, and tells me, “The ultrasound sound tech will be in soon.” She jerks the curtain closed and leaves.
“Cranky bitch,” King mutters, sitting on the edge of my bed, his hand instantly finding my bump under the sheet. “You’re okay?” he asks, using his other hand to touch my lips. The one that met my steering wheel.
“I’m okay. Just hungry.” I mumble, pushing his hand away.
He frowns. “Always are.”
“Hey!” I act offended, smacking his arm. “I’m feeding your baby.”
“And you’re damn good at it,” he tells me, his thumb rubbing my skin. The baby likes it, kicking back. “Baby agrees with me. You’re outnumbered.”
“Baby’s just hungry.”
A second later, a woman in scrubs comes in pushing a cart, with what I’m guessing is the ultrasound machine. “Samantha?”
“That’s me.”
“Let’s take a look at your baby, shall we?”
After setting up, the nurse gets to work, lifting my shirt and squirting on the warm gel. She puts the wand to my stomach, and instantly the screen is filled with my adorable baby. Black, white, and wiggly.
“Never gets old,” King tells me, watching the screen intently.
“Do we know the sex?” she asks, looking at me.
I shake my head. “At the last scan, the baby wouldn’t cooperate.”
She laughs. “Babies can be fickle. Would you like to know?”
“Sure.” Hell yes, I want to know.
Clicking and scanning, she moves the wand, pressing it into my stomach. “There we go,” she says, clicking the mouse and looking at the screen. “It’s a boy.”
“Fuck,” King breathes. “A goddamn boy.”
“You got your boy,” I tell him. It’s scary. Two Kings? I’m not sure the world is ready for two Kings. I’m not ready for two Kings.
He smirks, happy that now he’s truly got me outnumbered. “Fuck yeah I did.”
We leave the hospital perfectly healthy and happy, King on cloud fucking nine.