room or something. Maybe I could get there before he caught me…
Even though it was darker here, I remembered the way pretty well from the tour last night, and when I rounded the corner, the guy on my ass, I could have sobbed at the lack of tall, shadowy figures trying to block my path.
Yes. Thank fuck.
My feet had never moved so fast as I sprinted, determined to get to a phone and call 911, but just as I started down the top step, I tripped over an obstacle I hadn't noticed on the floor. Arms flailing, I fell hard in the dark, something heavy going down with me.
When I landed in a painful heap on the floor at the bottom, whatever I’d tripped over slammed into my side, and I tried to gasp in some air. I was winded, my side aching, and the real fear that I’d fallen too hard on my stomach had panic detonating in my system.
It was quite dark down here, but as I felt around to push myself up, I knew that it was a body beside me. My stomach roiled as I wondered how any of them had died by the stairs… I mean, Dylan hadn’t made it that far yet.
I pushed myself up and sharp pain shot across my right knee, left elbow, and left ass cheek. Then my hand brushed across long hair. The horror of who I’d tripped over hit me at the same moment someone hit a light above, clearly wanting to see where I was before they attacked.
Ruth’s lifeless eyes stared up at me as I screamed in horror, the pain and guilt of what I’d done almost sending my brain into a place I couldn’t get it back from. Tears poured down my face while I continued to scream, and it was only when someone slammed a boot into my ribs that I was able to snap out of my state and roll into a ball, trying to protect myself.
Ruth was dead. The woman had risked her life to help me, and in the end, it’d cost her everything. I’d have time to unpack the absolute devastation of that later, but for now, I had to save myself.
And my baby.
As I rolled to the side, someone booted me back to the floor, and I knew it was all over. "You fucking cunt,” he rasped. “You almost broke my knee."
Oh, great. It was ten-pack-a-day dude.
Curling back into a ball, I protected my stomach as best as I could while he nailed me with his boot again. And just when I was sure that I was about to die, the front door burst open. Snow and ice blew in with the new arrivals, and I heard a blast of radio and a clear command of “Delta attack.” Then the asshole's boot landed on my temple, and I was knocked out cold.
21
Consciousness came back in flashes of pain as I let out a sobbing moan. Strong arms cradled me and tightened as I cried.
"Shh, baby, I've got you." Dylan's deep rumble met my ears, soothing despite my pain. "We're getting you to the hospital; it'll be okay."
But... would it? The fall down the stairs... the kicks from that motherfucker before the Delta guys turned up… Ruth…
My sobs grew harder, until I was choking on my fear and guilt. Dylan was helplessly trying to figure out what was wrong. Did he even know about Ruth? Did he know we might have lost our baby?
He couldn't know, and yet he sounded as frantic as me. "Brooke, baby, you're bleeding." Panic underscored those words. "Where are you hurt? Your legs are covered." His grip on me shifted, and I cracked my eyes open to find myself in the passenger seat of an SUV with Dylan looming in the open door. "Were you shot?" His hands roamed over my body, searching for my injury.
But he wouldn't find it. Not like that.
I knew, though. Deep down, I’d known it from the second I'd tumbled down those stairs, hitting every step on the way down. Turned out I didn't need to take another test, after all.
"I'm fine," I lied in a weak voice, gritting my teeth as his hands skimmed my aching ribs. "Dylan, I wasn't shot." My voice hitched as my chest tightened, overwhelming sadness washing through me.
His thumb brushed over my cheek, swiping away the tears streaming down my face. "Brooke, you're scaring me. What's going on? What's this blood from? You must have