The energy in the hotel conference room is at an all-time high. We’ve been slaying it on the field, and our bonding couldn’t be better. Pittsburgh is going to be the toughest game of the year, and it’s on our home turf. The nerves are real, and the tension thick, however, stronger than that is our desire to pull out another win to keep us at the top of our division.

And for me it’s so much more. It’s fucking everything. There are no boundaries I won’t bust through to keep up our good name. For me. For her. For us. Coach runs over his final strategies, tightening up all the last minute details for tomorrow’s game. We’ve all heard it before, but it’s all part of the game of keeping his words embedded in our heads. To play smart and stick to our knowledge. As I glance at the clock, so fucking ready to get to my room and devour my woman, I’m not paying attention until I’m nudged in the leg.

“Blake, you hear me?” Coach hollers out.

I jerk my chin, escaping from daydreaming about licking every single curve of Justice until she’s coming undone below me. God, I can taste her on my tongue.

“Yeah, got it.” I stand up. “Plays are down, and I’m ready for bed.”

There’s a slight murmur that floats around the room, more like light chuckles from my teammates. They know damn well there will be some extracurricular activities before my bedtime. Before I have the chance to give them shit in retaliation, the door to the conference room bursts open and everyone’s heads turn in that direction.

My dad is the person busting in, and I’m instantly on high alert. Something is wrong.

His face is pale, and his eyes are wide. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I know something is off when his eyes turn glassy the minute they find mine.

“Liam.” My name barely falls from his lips.

I close the distance in three long strides, my imagination running a mile a minute. I scan his features, and none of it is reassuring.

“Dad,” I plead, knowing I don’t want to hear what he has to say.

He places a palm on my shoulder and drops his head, unable to look me in the eyes. Mom rushes in behind him. Rowe close behind in hysterics.

Fucking hell, it’s Justice. I can feel whatever he’s about to say deep in my bones.

I stop breathing.

“We need to go, son,” Dad says, his voice cracking.

I snap.

“Dad! What in the fuck is going on?” I shout, my vocal chords tearing apart and my heart pounding harder than it ever has before.

Mom steps between us, grabbing each of our hands. “There’s been an accident. We need to go.”

My vision blurs and my world shifts. Mind spinning and life flashing before my eyes.

The woman I love, our innocent baby. All of it gone. The color red blinks like a flickering neon sign in my troubled mind.

My self-control shreds in an instant. I pull my hand away from Mom’s, turn, and throw a chair across the room. It slams into a large glass frame on the wall. It shatters like everything inside of me is.

The next thing I know, Dad is ushering me outside and putting me into Mom’s car. The lights blur by as Dad whizzes down the streets of Boise. I ball my fists up, thirsty to knock someone on their fucking ass and taking the breath right from their lungs.

“Son, keep your head on straight.” Mom reaches over, grabs my hand, and wraps her other arm around my shoulders. “It was a car accident. Cain and Justice were rushed to the hospital. Their side of the car suffered the most damage. She’s going to need you to be strong, Liam.”

Strong? I want to say. Who the hell has strength when you have no idea what in hell you're going to walk into? I can’t prepare to calm down or prepare myself for jack shit when my life is in a hospital possibly fighting to save herself and the baby we want.

Rowe’s sobs from the front seat start to grate on my last nerve. My mom’s gentle touch, the way I feel my dad isn’t driving fast enough, as well as the blood rushing through my veins are slowly draining my strength. Nothing makes sense right now, and it’s pissing me off more.

“Fuck,” I growl as I run my hands down my face, my life barely hanging on.

The second Dad slows the car near the emergency exit, I’m out the door and flying through the sliding glass doors. I’m manic, and nobody seems to understand my fucking urgency.

“Justice Bexley,” I bark at the nurse. “I’m her fiancé. I have to get to her now.”

The nurse behind the desk doesn’t flinch or even make a move to help me out. I slam my fist into the wall. The Sheetrock breaks and crumbles around my fist. I shake off the dust and lean forward to tell this lady I need answers when I’m jerked back and tossed down into a metal chair. A security guard is in my face and ready to blow.

Dad gets between us offering up an apology. I hear Mom talking with a nurse. Once the security guard is smoothed over, he walks away. I crumble forward, resting my elbows on top of my legs and burying my face in my hands. Right now, everything inside of me is hurting too damn much to cry or feel any emotion at all besides utter pain. My world has shattered. The same one I was just on top of was ripped out from underneath me, and for what? Why?

Was this the doing of her stalker, a mere freak accident, or what? Jesus Christ, I’m going to lose my shit on everyone in about two seconds. And where is Cain? Calla? Goddamnit.

“She’s in surgery.” Mom kneels in front of me, placing her hand on my face. “That’s all they will tell me, son. We will sit here and pray. Justice is a fighter and will get through this.”

I raise my head to face the woman who gave me life, and finally the tears begin to fall, the devastation settling in, and fear gripping hold of me. I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not until we’ve lived the life we want. The weight pushing down on my chest becomes too much, and I feel my emotions pulling me in a direction I’ve never gone before. It’s no wonder Justice had a breakdown.

Mom doesn’t move from her spot, and neither do I. We sit there for hours upon hours, or at least it feels like that. People come and go, and there’s no news until a man in scrubs walks into the room. I keep my eyes trained on his clogs before I peer up to him. The blood spatter on the tip of his shoes makes bile rise up the back of my throat.

“Liam Blake.” He nods pulling the cap from his head. “I’ve been given permission by Calla Bexley to inform you of Justice’s status.”

This has me up and on my feet. My head spins for a few beats before I gain my bearings. My gaze goes back down to the droplets of blood on his shoes. Mom and Dad are at my sides holding me up.

“Her side of the car received the most damage. She’s sustained severe internal bleeding. We have it stopped for now. Her ankle is fractured, and I’ve set it in a walking boot for now. The swelling of her brain is our major concern right now. We have her in an induced coma, and now it’s just a waiting game.”

“The baby.” The two words fall from my lips, landing in a messy pile at my feet.

“Your baby has a strong heartbeat. OB hasn’t left her side. Justice is being transferred to a private room.” The doctor clutches his cap in his hands. “I’ll answer any questions you have if you’d like to follow me.”

“Go to her, Liam.” Calla rushes out of another set of doors with Danika at her side. “Go with her. She’s going to want you, and I need to get to Cain.”

Jesus, Cain. I should ask about him, but I can’t find the power inside of me to do so.

“I’ll go with you, Calla.” Mom grabs her other arm.

“Go, Liam. By her side is where you belong,” Dad urges.

He’s right. Nothing else in this world matters more than her.

“She’s a fighter. They both are,” he assures and leads the way.

With each step, I find it hard to inhale and exhale. The melodic beeps of machines, the squeaking of shoes, the shitty music in the elevator, all serenade me until we round the corner into Justice’s room.

My heart stutters in what used to be normal beats, and nothing, not even a detailed description, could have prepared me for what I see.

I place my hand over hers. It’s warm, and a slight relief scours through me. Her eyes are shut and her face is relaxed in a peaceful way as if she were curled up in my lap taking a nap. Her head is wrapped in gauze, and her blonde hair is coated in blood.

I can’t help but hope whoever did this pays the price with their lives.

“Baby, I’m here.” I lean over and brush my lips against her forehead. “I’m here.”

“Are you the father?” a lady with a wand on Justice’s stomach asks.

“I am.”

Hell, I didn’t even realize she was here. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying and wishing our chip is okay. Out of everything, this would destroy us. I hold tight to Justice’s hand, watching the wand scroll across her stomach. I know what a steady heartbeat sounds like by now. It’s my favorite sound. And when silence hits my ears, fear like I’ve never known hits me in the center of my chest.

I glance up at the nurse, noticing her brow creased in worry.

“Please,” I plead, repeating the word over and over again.

“Give me a minute; I’m going to grab another nurse. She may have more luck than me.”

She grows pale, and I’m not sure if it’s from me pleading with her or the fact she can’t find a heartbeat.

“I’ll be right back.” She hustles from the room, her shoes clicking and echoing down the hallway.

“Please…please.” Fear of loss threatens to take me under and suffocates the normal tone in my voice. I lay a hand on her stomach.

“I’ve imagined holding you in my arms many times. You fight like your mom, little one. You’re the beginning of the end of our story. I need you as much as I do her,” I mouth over the swell of Justice’s belly.

Moments later, the nurse returns accompanied by another. They rattle off hopeless promises to both themselves and me as they unhook the wand and replace it with another.

My knees tremble, and I’m ready to die right here when I feel a hand on the top of my shoulder. I turn slightly to see my dad at my back.

“Sir, only one visitor at a time,” the new nurse says.

“No, I had someone go get him,” the first replies.

I turn back to gauge their reactions as they both stare at the monitor, brows furrowed, lips set in tight lines, and both of their pulses fluttering at the sides of their necks.

They won’t look at me, and that’s when I know something isn’t right.

I turn to my father’s chest and bury my face in it. I cry like I did when I was six years old, letting his strength catch every single tear.

He grips the back of my neck. “C’mon, son. You’ve got to get through this for Justice. C’mon.”

Dead silence passes for long moments, making the loss real and raw. I want to run far away from it but can’t because I’m a prisoner in my own hell right now. Nothing could make me leave Justice’s side.

“There it is.”

Whoosh. Whoosh. Thump. Thump. Whoosh. Whoosh.

“Little bugger was hiding.”

I whirl around to face the monitor.

“Our baby,” I whisper as I continue to listen to the greatest sound in the world.