Page 112 of Hidden By His Side

“I’ll kill her, Rodriguez. Let me go, or I’ll—”

Ramiro shot the arm holding the gun, and Ovidio shouted in pain even before Ramiro’s second shot blew off his goddamn ear. Ovidio clutched at it as he fell back against the wall, his gun falling to the carpet.

Ramiro was already on him, holding him there.

“You were supposed to be dead!”

Ramiro didn’t want to hear the asshole talk. He smashed the gun he held into the man’s face, the crack of his nose so satisfying he did it again, taking out teeth, and again, cracking a cheekbone. With each smash, something else broke or tore or bruised until Ovidio’s face was goddamn mush. Ovidio had passed out, but his broken nose still dragged in air.

Shooting him would be too quick of an end.

Summer was too still. She was naked and curled on the ground, one hand limp where her arm lay across her face, the other curled around her bruised stomach. Purples and greens mottled her delicate bump, along with her arms and legs.

Ramiro dropped down beside her, his hands hovering before stroking her hair back from her face. She was breathing. Everybreath looked like it hurt, but she was breathing. Summer was alive.

“I’m here, baby girl,” he choked out.

A whimper slipped from her raw and busted lips as her eye squinted up at him from beneath her limp arm.

“Ram,” she breathed out.

“It’s me,” he tried to say, but he doubted the words escaped his tight throat.

“Dreamed… of you.” Her fingers tightened on her stomach as her face twisted in pain. “Dreamed… you came,” she gasped. Her eye slid shut as she turned her face into the carpet and shook. “You never came.”

Ramiro’s eyes burned, hot tears dripping down into his beard. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, reaching for her, ripped apart inside by her gasp of pain and the tensing of her body as she tried to curl tighter. He started to freeze, but there was no helping it. No way in hell could he leave her lying there for a moment longer. He lifted her into his arms, rewarded when her face burrowed into his shirt instead of the carpet.

Blood coated her thighs and stained the carpet where she’d been lying. Her whimper of pain slid through him as he struggled to his feet.

Diego steadied him before stepping back, glaring at the blood on the carpet.

“Hurts,” Summer cried into Ramiro’s chest. “It hurts.”

Ramiro pulled her in closer, burying his face in her hair. She’d been clutching her stomach. There’d been bruises there. No cuts, but way too much bruising.

“For… the best,” Summer sobbed, the words muffled. “I didn’t… deserve her.”

“You deserve her. You deserve everything in the world.” Ramiro carried her out of the room. A part of him had died inside, would stay dead if she lost the baby. “I’ve got you now. Just hold on to me.”

Her hand clutched at his shoulder as she continued to cry.

Chapter 34

Ramiro held Summer’s hand. It felt so fragile, cupped between his. He stared down at the blood under her cracked nails.

Nothing else existed. Nothing but Summer’s hand.

The hospital had ordered a rape kit. Of course they had. She’d been with Ovidio and his men for days.

Ramiro’s eyes squeezed shut, but he forced them open again, forced himself to stare at that delicate, bruised hand.

The doctors had checked the baby’s heartbeat, and he’d heard the thrumming that meant there was hope, but they hadn’t promised anything. They’d done their tests, and they’d continued to monitor, but their faces remained so damn remote.

Summer was no longer bleeding, but she lay so still, like the very essence of her had leaked away. She hadn’t once looked at him, hadn’t talked to the doctors. The pain medication they’d given her had let the tension in her face ease. She looked like alifeless doll, motionless except for the slow rise and fall of her chest, and those damn beeping machines, the sounds increasing the pounding in his head.

His mind clung to the beeping even as he hated it.

Summer was alive. She and her daughter. Ramiro hadn’t been there for them, but they were alive. It had to be enough.

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