I recognize one of the three old white men who make up the grievance committee. He’s a judge I’ve been in front of numerous times, and he smiles at me as I take my seat. Smoothing my skirt over my thighs, I curse the room for being so hot.
A bead of sweat rolls down my spine, and I shift. I’m so nervous my abdomen won’t stop cramping, and I’m barely able to keep my breakfast down.
“Ms. Kendall, we realize it’s unusual to call you in first, but since the allegations were so abnormal, we thought we should just get to it,” old white man number one says.
One after another, they pepper me with questions. Trying to trip me up. I want to throw the statement I prepared yesterday at them and say, “There, read that!” but I maintain my composure and answer their questions the best I can.
In the end, I know nothing, so that’s what I tell them. I represented Elias Serrano in a custody matter. Rochlan North in a misdemeanor possession charge. And Winter Curtis before the support magistrate. Mr. North runs a motorcycle club, but I don’t know a lot about it. Mr. Serrano works for Mr. North. And Ms. Curtis and Mr. Serrano are dating. Anything other than that is privileged information that I won’t disclose. As for ongoing criminal cover-up, I work my best innocent you-can’t-be-serious expression.
When I’m done, my bangs are plastered to my sweaty forehead. Great. All this sweating probably spells guilty to them.
Judge Gibson smiles at me warmly and turns to old white man numbers one and two. “I think we can agree this complaint is nonsense. There really is no reason to investigate this further.”
Surprisingly, they agree.
I’m free.
As I step into the hallway, I dig my cell phone out of my purse and send Rock a text.
I’m sorry.
Simple, direct, and honest.
While I’m waiting for the elevator, I wobble a bit. The whole time I was in the meeting, I couldn’t stop sweating. Now I’m freezing but still sweaty.
I sway as I step into the elevator and press C for concourse. The motion of the creaky old box rocks my stomach. A few deep, cleansing breaths later, I burst out of the elevator.
Rock is standing directly across on the other side of the metal detectors everyone has to go through before they go upstairs. His head is down while he checks his cell phone. From here, I see a smile cross his face. The ding of the elevator catches his attention, and he tips up his head.
His happy expression morphs into panic as he strides over. “Hope, are you okay?”
I’m too embarrassed to tell him it’s a combination of nerves and my period, so I fake a smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want you going through this alone.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the security guard. “They wouldn’t let me upstairs.”
My breathing falters. My vision swims.
“Baby, you don’t look very good.” He takes me into his arms. “Honey, you’re awfully cold.”
Blinding agony burns through my left side, and I’m suddenly painfully uncomfortable down there.
A veil of red blurs my vision.
Blackness swirls over my eyes.
Then I’m lost.
The second I see Hope, I know something’s wrong. Her normally pale, creamy skin is almost waxy. Rushing to her, I see she’s sweat-soaked.
What did those assholes do to her up there?
I know she must have been scared, but her reaction seems awfully extreme. Even for her.
“Hope, are you okay?”
Her lips tremble. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want you going through this alone.”
The whole time we’re talking, all I can think about is how much I fucking love her. Her sweet, simple “I’m sorry” text really got to me. I was about to send her one of my own when she appeared looking like death warmed over.
“Baby, you don’t look very good.” She seems close to hitting the floor, so I wrap my arms around her. Touching her cheek scares the shit out of me. “Honey, you’re freezing.”
Next thing I know, she collapses in my arms.
The pudgy security guard who gave me shit when I tried to go upstairs rushes over. “Sir, what happened?”
“I don’t know. She fainted.”
I’m crouching on the floor, holding her in my arms. She’s breathing, but it’s shallow. I tap her cheek. “Hope, baby?”
Nothing.
A state trooper comes over to help just as I realize something wet is seeping into my jeans.
Jesus Christ. She’s bleeding!
What the fuck?
“Call an ambulance,” I roar.
The trooper kneels down and checks her pulse. He sees the blood on my hands and shifts into action. “Sir, an ambulance will take forever. Empire Medical is right up the road. I’ll drive you, lights and sirens. We’ll get there much faster.”
I stand, keeping her body cradled against me as he leads the way out. I don’t see anything except the officer’s back as I follow him.
At the car, he tries to take Hope from me, and I snap at him. “I’ve got her.”
Getting us both in the backseat isn’t easy, but I tuck her up against me. Brushing her hair off her cheek, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Baby, please wake up. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”
“Sir, is she breathing?”
“Yes. But it’s shallow. Her pulse is weak.”
I hold her, speaking nonsense to her the whole way, dangerously close to losing my shit by the time we pull up to the emergency room doors.
“Stay here, sir. I’ll get them to bring out a gurney.”
It takes way too fucking long for the medical team to rush out. Hope’s taken from my arms. When the staff sees the blood on me, they start barking questions. Somewhere in the middle of answering their endless interrogation, I’m aware of the officer handing me Hope’s purse and a nurse pushing me inside while she drums more information out of me.
I stumble and lean against the admissions desk.
The little pit bull of a nurse is right in my face. “Is she pregnant?”
“What? No. I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Are you her husband?”
“Boyfriend.” Fuck, I hate that useless word.
“Is she on birth control?”
“I think so.”
Her lip curls with disdain, and I’m swamped with regret. I’m always in such a hurry to stick my damn dick in her. I never asked her what the—
“Sir, does she have any family we can call?”
I’m her fucking family.
“Uh, her mother,” I answer stupidly.
She ushers me into a private waiting room. I don’t know what the fuck to do. I want to throw shit and rip the fucking place apart.
Instead, I sit my ass in a flimsy plastic chair and tap out a message to Z.
At Empire Med with Hope. Bad.
My phone pings back almost immediately.
Be there in 20.
Z and Wrath are there in fifteen.
“Brother, what the fuck?” Z asks when he sees me.
“I don’t know. They haven’t fucking told me anything yet.”
Wrath sits next to me and puts his hand on my back. “What happened?”
I tell him about meeting up with her, how sick she looked, and her fainting.
“Uh, we thought she like got shot or something,” Z points out.
I turn my hands over, seeing the blood. “No.”
“Aw fuck, man,” Z says.
There’s a sink in the corner of the room, and I stumble over to clean my hands the best I can.
“Mr. North?”
I whip around. “Is she okay?”
Not liking the grave expression on her face, I storm over. “Is she okay?” I ask a lot louder this time.
She glances at Wrath and Z, then pulls me into the corner. “We think it’s an ectopic pregnancy. She’s bleeding heavily, indicating her tube has ruptured. We’re prepping her for emergency surgery now.”
My throat constricts. “She’s pregnant?” I manage to choke out.
She puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry. A tubal ectopic pregnancy like this never survives.”
“Emergency surgery? Is she…?” I can’t even say it.
“It’s a life-saving operation. I’ll come back when I have more information for you.”
I fall heavily into the chair next to Wrath. What the fuck did I do to her? I remember back to the morning in Sophie’s shower when Hope told me she had trouble taking the pill. Then the night of my birthday when she said we could skip the condoms. I never thought about it again.
Selfish fucking asshole.
A baby. She’s pregnant. Hope carrying my child.
No, was pregnant. Was it…? I can’t. I can’t even think about it. I just need my girl to make it through this.
Wrath puts his hand on my shoulder. “She’s a little spitfire. She’ll be back to busting your balls in no time, brother.”
After that, my brothers are quiet, but they stay with me while I wait.
Trinity comes in an hour later. After a quiet hug, she pushes a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt into my hands. Shuffling into the bathroom, I change quick, stuffing my stained clothes in the garbage. I hurry out, but no one has come to give me an update. I should call her mother. Digging out her cell phone, I scroll through her contacts until I find one labeled Mother. The phone rings twice before someone picks up.
“Um, Mrs.—”
Fuck, I don’t know what her mother’s married name is.
“This is Rochlan. I’m a friend of your daughter’s, Mrs. Kendall.”
“Knight,” she corrects.
What-the-fuck-ever. “Listen, Hope’s in the hospital. She’s having emergency surgery.”
I give her the scant details I know and feel like an absolute fucking asshole the entire time. When I tell her we’re at Empire Med, she makes a clucking sound. “Okay. Well, call me back tomorrow and let me know how she’s doing.”
“Ma’am? You’re not going to come down and see her?”
“What for? You said she’s in surgery. It’s an hour drive.”
I swallow down my rage and hang up.
Looking at my brothers, I shake my head. I can’t speak. I’m dangerously close to tears. What kind of mother doesn’t care if her daughter is in the hospital and might die? I know how shitty I am with words. Did I not explain it right?
The nurse returns, and I jump up. “Is she okay?”
“There were some complications. Sir, do you know if she has a health care proxy?”
“What?”
She explains what that is, and my entire body numbs. “She’s a lawyer, so probably. I don’t know,” I manage to mumble.
“See if you can find out. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Swiping at my damp cheeks, I realize I’m fucking crying.
Scrolling through her phone again, I find Sophie’s number.
“What’s up, buttercup?” she answers.
“Sophie, it’s Rock.”
“Oh. Hi. What’s wrong? Is Hope okay?”
“No. She’s in the hospital. They’re asking me if she has a health care proxy, Sophie. I don’t know. I thought you might.”
She lets out a string of curses. “Yes. We all did them after law school. I have no idea if she updated it after Clay died. I was the second person, though. Fuck. I’m down in fucking Delaware, Rock. It’s going to take me a little while to get there. Call Adam. He might know. I’m going to check out of my hotel and drive straight there. I’m leaving right now.”
We say our good-byes. No matter my irritation with Sophie, I’m so grateful Hope has at least one other person who cares about her. I manage to get ahold of Adam, but he’s not much help. He’s got no idea about the health care proxy but says he’ll be at the hospital right after court.
While I’m holding Hope’s phone, her text chain to Sophie pops on the screen. Remembering the awful fight we had about me messing with her phone, I hesitate. But I can’t stop scrolling through their messages because they’re full of Hope’s snarky wit that I love so fucking much. Under the circumstances, I think Hope will forgive the intrusion. Right now, I need to feel close to my girl in some small way.
Looks as if they go back and forth all day. Sophie’s lewd as a devil. Hope’s comments are more reserved, but she definitely pays me a few compliments here and there that make me smile.
Please let my girl be okay.
One text catches my attention. From yesterday morning.
I fucked up so bad, Sophie.
???
I said something horrible to R I didn’t mean.
A good fuck fixes everything.
I snort at that, not surprised that’s Sophie’s solution to everything.
Not this time.
They must have talked right after, because there’s only one more message. It’s from Sophie this morning.
Good luck. Give that committee a kick in the balls from me.
Wrath props up his cast and sprawls out as much as his big body and the tiny hospital waiting room chairs allow.
An hour later, Lilly shows up. Z snaps to attention when he sees her, but she doesn’t notice him at first. She places one hand on my shoulder. “Any news?”
“No, she’s still in surgery.”
She nods and sits to wait with us. Trinity brings me coffee. She and Lilly talk softly to each other. Z watches both of them like a hawk. I’d laugh my ass off if I wasn’t so torn up. I can’t wait to tell Hope about this little soap opera.
Please let me be able to tell her this.
A couple hours later, Sophie rushes into the room. She glances at the guys and approaches me slowly. Her touch is light on my shoulder as she gives me a gentle squeeze. “Any news?”
“Not in a while.”
Wrath’s busy glaring at her so hard I don’t bother introducing them. Never should have confided in him about Sophie’s drunken attempt to get me in the sack. After I fill her in, she wanders over to talk to Lilly and Trinity.
“Mr. North?”
It’s a doctor this time, and I steel myself before getting up.
“She’s doing well,” he says right away.
All the air I’d been holding in comes rushing out of my lungs.
Sophie joins me, explaining to the doctor that she’s Hope’s health care proxy. He nods.
“She came through surgery okay. We had to—” He looks around the room and lowers his voice. “Her fallopian tube ruptured. We had to remove part of it along with the pregnancy.” Next to me, Sophie gasps. “It was done laparoscopically so her recovery time won’t be as long.”
“Thank you,” I manage.
“Did she complain of any pain, or did you notice anything unusual?” the doctor asks.
I shake my head. I don’t want to discuss the fight we had in front of Sophie.
The doctor shrugs. “She would have been feeling bad for a couple days. Probably in a lot of pain today,” he explains, making me feel a thousand times worse. Thinking my girl was suffering while I was off taking a joyride and whining like a little bitch because she insulted my club? That shit is hard to handle.
The doctor’s gaze darts between Sophie and me, finally landing on me. “Will you be helping her once she’s released?”
I don’t even have to think about that. “Yes, she’ll come home with me. I’ll take care of her.”
He nods. “We’ll discuss care instructions when she’s awake. She’s still out now, but one of you can go in and see her if you want.”
“You go,” Sophie urges.
I follow him to her room and want to cry when I see her. Rushing to her side, I’m shocked at how small and fragile she looks surrounded by all the medical stuff.
“Baby doll,” I choke out. I glance up at the doctor. “Can I hold her hand?” I’m so afraid I’ll do something else to hurt her.
His mouth turns up slightly. “Yes.”
I barely notice the door snick shut.
Taking her hand between mine, I bring it to my lips. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So fucking sorry for storming out the other night and not calling you. I’m so sorry this happened, because I know it’s my fault. Please be okay, baby doll. I haven’t had nearly enough time to love you yet.”
A nurse comes in, watching me for a minute. “Sir, she’s going to be out for a few more hours. You can go home and get some rest.”
Nailing him with the hardest biker stare I can muster, I inform him in no uncertain terms, “No. I need to be here when she wakes up.”
Pain shakes me from sleep. The mother of all cramps is raising hell in my uterus. My head throbs. The overpowering scent of antiseptic makes my nose twitch.
What the hell?
Snapping my eyes open, I find Rock sprawled out in a chair next to me, his hand wrapped tight around mine even in sleep.
It takes me a minute to remember what happened. How long have I been out? Uncomfortable, I shift, startling Rock awake.
The elation on his face is clear. Whatever happened was bad.
“What happened?”
“Baby—”
The door swishes open, and a nurse charges through. “Hey, chickie. Good to see you awake.” She’s friendly and checks me over with respectful efficiency. “Let me grab the doctor.”
My throat tightens and suddenly I’m flooded with tears. Rocks stands and awkwardly pulls me to his chest. “It’s okay, baby.”
The doctor explains about the pregnancy and the rupture. My mind is spinning. How did this happen?
“Can I still have children—after something like this?”
He’s the kind of doctor who’s chosen efficiency over a coddling bedside manner, so he doesn’t sugarcoat a thing. “There’s a good chance you may not be able to get pregnant again, and even if you do, your chances of this happening again are higher.”
Rock is stoic as he holds my hand and rubs my back the entire time.
Then the doctor mentions I shouldn’t try to conceive again for at least three or four months.
“Wait a second. Doctor, I wasn’t trying to get pregnant. I’m on the shot.”
The doctor falters. “How long ago?”
I glance at Rock and heat stings my cheeks. “Maybe eight weeks? They told me it was good for twelve.”
“Well, that changes things a little. Statistically…” He trails off. “Well, it’s very unusual. Get some rest. We’ll probably discharge you in the morning.”
As soon as he leaves, I burst into tears again. Rock’s right there soothing me. “Hush, baby, it’s going to be fine.”
“I may not be able to have children, Rock. I mean, I don’t even know if I want them, but having the option yanked away?”
“Hope, just worry about getting better. I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been such a selfish fuck, this wouldn’t have happened.”
With his head bowed and lips pressed against the back of my hand, he looks so sorrowful. I burst into tears again.
“You don’t have to stay.”
The stern expression on his face quiets me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The chipper nurse is back. “Honey, you’ve got a waiting room full of people out there. You feel like some visitors?”
My gaze bounces to Rock, and he squeezes my hand.
“Sure.”
Wrath swings in on his crutches first, bumping Rock out of the way to drop a kiss on my forehead, then throws himself down in the chair next to my bed. “Sugar, you gave us all some scare,” he grumbles at me.
I’m so touched I start weeping again. Rock glares at Wrath.
Z comes in with a scowl in place. “What the hell did you say to her, jerk?” he barks at Wrath.
The distressed look on Wrath’s face makes me cry even harder. Darting his gaze between Rock and Z, he spreads his hands out palm up.
“It’s not you.” I sniffle.
Sophie pokes her head in and rushes to my side. “You scared the fuck out of me, buttercup!”
“What are you doing here?”
She shoots a glance at Rock. “Honey, I drove up from Delaware the second he called me.”
“Thanks, Sophie.”
“Lilly was here too, but she had to run. She wanted you to have this, though.” Sophie sets a petite vase of tulips on the table next to me.
“I’m gonna let you get some rest, sweetie.” She turns to Rock. “Call me if you need something?”
He nods, and she takes off.
“Thanks for staying with Rock, you guys,” I choke out.
Wrath and Z share a look.
“Trin will be back a little later,” Rock says.
On the verge of tears again, I gulp in big lungfuls of air.
“Breathe, baby doll,” Rock reminds me.
He glares down at Wrath, who’s made himself comfortable in the stiff hospital recliner and shows no sign of moving. “What?”
“Asshole,” Rock grumbles.
Wrath’s impish grin when Rock storms to the other side of the room to pull over a chair makes me laugh. Then he winks, and I really lose it.
“Prez, you need me to do anything?” Z asks from his corner.
“No—aw, fuck. Her car and my bike are probably still downtown.”
Z seems relieved to have something to do. “I’ll take care of it. Keys?”
After he leaves, the three of us fall silent. Well, Wrath starts snoring. Rock shakes his head.
“Has he been here all night?” I whisper.
Rock nods. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“You’re family now, babe,” Wrath mumbles without opening his eyes.
Trinity finally returns with pizza for everyone, which the nurse promises to ignore. Teller, Murphy, and Heidi join us. Still nauseous from the pain meds, my girl is only able to nibble on some crackers.
After we eat, Hope gets a round of kisses, and everyone takes off. Trinity even manages to get Wrath to leave Hope’s side and go home with her.
Hope is still pale, and I’m relieved when she finally drops off to sleep.
Early the next morning, the doctor comes in to check on her. After he’s finished, she falls back into sleep, and he pulls me into the hallway.
“We’re going to keep her one more day.”
A crack of fear splinters through me. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“She’s doing well. But she lost a lot of blood, and I’m not comfortable releasing her so soon.”
I blow out a breath, relieved they’re not just gonna toss her out. Honestly, I haven’t a clue if she even has health insurance.
The rough way I handled my girl the other night has been banging around in my skull. I can’t stop thinking somehow I did something to cause this.
“Doc…” Shit, I have no idea how to frame what I want to say without sounding like an abusive dickwad. “We… I didn’t know she was pregnant. Could, ah, could I have somehow caused what happened?”
He cocks his head at me, clearly not getting my meaning. Jesus fuck, I’m gonna have to spell it out for him. Even as I’m running my hands through my hair, I don’t break eye contact with the man. “A couple nights ago, we had sex. Pretty intense—”
He stops me with a hand on my arm. “No, Mr. North. In a normal pregnancy, the fertilized egg would have moved into her uterus. With this, the egg stayed in the fallopian tube, so no, vigorous sex wouldn’t cause this. Did she complain of any pain?”
I mentally run over that night, trying to remember anything I missed.
“No.”
He nods once. “You didn’t cause it, so put it out of your head. Ectopic pregnancies only happen maybe one in every fifty pregnancies, but the fact that she was on a reliable method of birth control is concerning. I’ve conferred with her gynecologist.”
I don’t really care about that end of things. All I’m thinking of is taking care of my girl. Getting her back to the clubhouse and smothering the fuck out of her.
“You should really go home and get some rest.” He doesn’t say it with much authority. Probably because the look on my face makes it clear I’m not going anywhere.
“I can’t leave her.”
He nods once before leaving. “I’ll be back to check on her later.”
After he leaves, I lean against the wall, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. The doc was telling me the odds of this happening are apparently zilch. It hits me that a lot of bad shit has happened to my girl since I came into her life. I’ve done so many awful things in my thirty-eight years on this planet; I figure my karmic debt is huge. But Hope? I can’t imagine she’s ever willingly hurt another living creature. She’s such a loving, caring soul. It seems awfully unfair for karma to fuck with her for the shit I’ve done.
Rock’s grave expression when he enters the room tightens the knot in my chest.
Even rumpled from sleeping in the chair, he’s so handsome.
Somehow we made a baby. I had his child inside me. This perfect man who loves me and would protect me with his life. And I lost it. I didn’t even know, but the loss echoes through me.
Is this my fault? I’ve been so indecisive about having children. I probably don’t deserve to be a mother.
The thought that I could lose Rock because I’m defective in some way terrifies me. He’s the picture of male virility. A hard man in his prime. Men like him want to reproduce, don’t they? It’s a miracle he doesn’t already have a bunch of kids running around by now.
The way he protects everyone he loves, I know he’d be an amazing father.
I can’t stop thinking I failed him somehow, and I hate it.
The next morning I find myself in the hallway with the doctor again. “She’s going to be sore for the next two to three days, so she needs as much rest as possible.”
“Okay.”
The doc eyes me skeptically. I gotta say I’m happy we’re leaving. The suspicious looks I get every time he pays Hope a visit are getting old. The fact that he’s answered all my questions and seems to be taking good care of my girl are the only things keeping all his teeth intact.
“In about two to three weeks, she should be fully recovered. At least physically,” he clarifies.
“She’s been crying at everything, doc. That normal?”
“Yes. Her body is going to be flooded with hormones. She may cry in spurts for up to six weeks. Keep an eye on her. If it seems worse, take her to her regular doctor. Does she have any history of depression?”
Although I suspect she does, I don’t have anything concrete. “She lost her husband a while ago, and from what her friends described, she had a rough time.”
For the first time since I’ve been dealing with this guy, his professional doctor mask slips. “Well, keep an eye on her. It will be normal for her to be sad and fatigued, but if it goes on for too long, she needs to talk to someone.”
“Okay.”
He sighs. “I’d limit her interactions with people for at least a few days. Let her grieve and process. Don’t let her get overwhelmed. Her friends might mean well, but unless she asks, I’d screen her calls and visits.”
Shit. That’s a tough one. I’d been planning to care for her up at the clubhouse, but there’s not a lot of privacy there.
“I can do that,” I assure him.
He nods and pushes his way inside. Hope’s awake but clearly still out of it.
“Okay, Ms. Kendall. We’re going to discharge you today. It will take a little while to get the paperwork done. The nurse will bring you your written instructions and the prescriptions.”
I listen to every word because I’m going to make damn sure I take the best care of my girl.
The doctor stops and levels a stern look at me. “No sexual intercourse for at least two weeks.”
We’re back to this.
Next to me, I feel Hope twitch, and I imagine she’s red with embarrassment, but I don’t turn away from the doctor. He seems to be challenging me. I’m not a fucking animal.
“Since the shot failed, you must use a barrier method for at least the next three to four months.” He raises an eyebrow at me. As if I don’t feel shitty enough. “You said you weren’t trying to get pregnant, so you should discuss what other options are available with your regular OB/GYN when you’re ready. They’ll probably suggest some sort of oral contraceptive in addition to a barrier method.”
Hope sort of wrinkles her nose, which makes me want to laugh. Instead, I rub my hand over her back.
He rattles off more instructions, some of which frankly are more than I ever needed to know. I pray like fuck someone is going to hand us this shit in writing.
After the doctor leaves, Hope seems to be a little more with it. She gets up and sorts through the clothes Trinity brought her last night. Holding up a pair of jeans, she winces. “No fucking way,” she says, pointing to her belly.
Lifting up her hospital gown, she angles and turns in front of the bathroom mirror. “God, I look disgusting.”
“Don’t talk about my girl that way.”
I get a small smirk out of her.
After a lot of indecision, she finally settles on a loose pair of sweatpants that I help her into. She still yelps when the material touches her tummy.
“Sorry, baby,” I mutter.
“Hey,” she says, placing a hand on my arm. “Thank you so much.”
Entwining my fingers with hers, I bring her hand up and run my lips over her knuckles. “What are you thanking me for?”
“For staying with me.”
I have to take a deep breath. Here she is thanking me when it’s my fucking fault this happened in the first place. “Baby doll, you don’t ever have to thank me for that. I love you.”
She presses a soft kiss against my lips, then turns to finish getting ready.
The nurse stops in and confidentially informs me to pick up some Gas-X on the way home.
Jesus Christ.
Z meets us at the curb with my SUV. The orderly helps me get Hope out of her wheelchair. Once she’s up, I swing her into my arms and settle in the backseat with her.
Z reaches back and gives her hand a squeeze. “Let’s get you outta here, girl.”