hands rush to cover her mouth as she ran to the bathroom. He hurried after her, holding her hair back with one hand while using his other as a makeshift cup to pour cold water from the sink over her neck.
When she finished, Sophie flushed and tried to stand on shaky feet. Groaning and a little off balance, she plopped down on the toilet instead, clumsily unbuttoning her baggy jeans and pulling them down, along with her underwear. She put her head in her hands and moaned. Blood stains speckled the lining of her panties. She didn’t notice, but Christian did.
“Stay here and relax. I’ll be right back, baby.” Christian’s heart pounded in his chest as he bolted back to the kitchen table to call Michael’s dad. Christian cursed under his breath when Michael’s mom answered the phone instead. Not that she wasn’t wonderful, but she was not who he needed.
“Mrs. Brennan, it’s Christian. I need to speak with Aaron, please. Right away!”
“Are you all right, dear?”
“Olivia, please!” No matter how many times she asked him to call her by her first name, he never had. He felt addressing her so informally was disrespectful, and she was one of the few people in his life who deserved every bit of respect he could offer her, but he was way beyond proper manners at the moment.
“He’s not here, sweetie. He’s at the hospital. You can reach him on his cell.”
Christian found a pen on the kitchen table, but no paper. He wrote the number on the tablecloth instead. Let Sophie bitch later. He’d buy her a new one. Luckily, Dr. Brennan answered on the second ring. Christian heard Sophie moan louder and headed back to her while he talked.
“Dr. Brennan, it’s Christian. Sophie, she’s in her third month, she’s bleeding. The bloody Feds were here and got her all worked up. What do I do?”
“Get her here quickly. Who’s your OB/GYN?”
His mind drew a complete blank. He was just at the doctor’s office with her two days earlier for their first ultrasound. How could he forget her name?!
“Ummm... Hill! Yes, that’s her name. Dr. Hill!”
“All right, I’ll call Dr. Hill and ask her to meet me here. When you arrive, the front desk will know I’m waiting for you and they’ll take you straight back. I’ll have a room ready.”
Christian went to the key rack by the front door. He eyed the keys to Michael’s Mustang. It was by far the fastest car he had access to, but would most certainly give them away. Scowling, he grabbed the keys to Sophie’s coupe and once again headed for the bathroom.
Sophie hadn’t moved a muscle, and looked deathly pale. When he helped her stand, the water in the bowl was tinted pink. He’d seen a lot of blood in his days, but somehow this pink water made him more ill than he had ever been. Clenching his eyes shut, he turned away from the toilet, picked up his wife and carried her to the car.
As soon as he pulled out of the parking lot, he saw an unmarked car start following him. Jesus, they’re watching the house. Well, I hope they are caught up on their high speed chase certification. Christian gunned the gas, and sure enough, the lights and sirens started going behind him. Nothing short of a brigade of little old ladies with walkers crossing the street would make him stop, and even that was questionable. They were just going to have to follow him all the way to the hospital if they wanted him so badly.
And they did. He pulled up in front of the entrance to the emergency room and, not even bothering to turn off the ignition, ran around to open the passenger door. Luckily, someone was waiting with a wheelchair for her. The cops ran up and started to yell at him but stopped in their tracks when they realized what was going on.
“This is my wife, Sophie Jefferson,” Christian told the orderly. “She’s pregnant and bleeding. Dr. Brennan is waiting for us.”
“Yes, sir,” the orderly replied.
Learning to Kill: Stories