Page 96 of Twisted Games of Revenge

Chapter 40

A relentlessbeep, beep, beeprips through my sleep. I groan, burying my head under a pillow to escape the irritating noise. Why is it so loud in here? I’m so dead tired I just want to sleep, and I can’t get a second’s peace.

The crisp starch-smelling pillow lifts, and I blink my eyes open to see who’s brave enough to disturb me. The space I’m in is light and bright, fluorescent lights illuminating Ricky’s beautiful face. “Ricky, what the fuck?” I croak, pissed he woke me up.

“Baby doll.” He smiles softly at me, but he looks like he’s been through hell, bruising on his left cheek and eye. His hair is also messed up like he’s been running his fingers through it on repeat, his eyes bloodshot and sad. No sign of the cheeky man I have fallen in love with.

My line of sight travels down my arm to where an IV drip is hooked up to my wrist, and I see the source of the beeping. The machine needs to be refilled. My heart races like crazy as I realize I’m in the hospital.

I sit up in a rush, memories flooding back to me from the day before. When my head spins, I bury my head in my hands and try to get the wooziness under control as vivid images slice through my head. My brother, the police commissioner, Enzo. Fuck, was that all real or some fucking twisted dream?

The bed dips, and I feel Ricky’s hand on my back rubbing slow circles as I try to focus. I make out three other men all waiting patiently for me to get a grip. Maddox leans into the wall, one leg propped up, his expression grim, while Geovani has a seat positioned right by my bed, and the concern in his eyes makes my stomach churn. But it’s Alessandro who kills me. He looks absolutely broken, our strong leader nowhere to be seen, his eyes just as bloodshot as Ricky’s.

Goosebumps break out all over my skin, knowing this is bad. I lower my hand and glance over to Ricky for answers. “The baby?” I whisper, my voice choked with tears, barely audible above the sobs wracking my body.

Ricky’s head drops. “I’m sorry, Harley.”

“No.” My bottom lip trembles, and I can’t hold back the tears that roll from my eyes. I already knew, but I didn’t want to believe it could be true. I had such little time to get used to the fact I was going to be a mom, but I loved that baby from the first second I knew it was real. I wanted it, and I wanted to be a family.

They’re all here with me. The others all move in closer. This must have broken them as well. We were all so excited about a chance for a fresh start, some joy in our dark world. But of course, this had to be stolen away from us as well.

“I’m so sorry,” I get out through my sobs. I feel like I failed them. “I should have fought harder; I should have kept my big mouth shut so Enzo didn’t kick me. I should have just signed everything over to them and this never would have happened.” They crowd me, pulling me into them as I fall apart. A searing,relentless pain courses through me, a deep ache I don’t think I will ever recover from.

“She needs to be sedated,” I hear Ricky whisper.

Sickness fills me, I don’t want to be out of it. “No.” I push them off me. Throwing my legs off the side of the bed, I stand in a rush. My head spins, and Maddox captures me in his arms before I collapse on the cold linoleum floor. He helps me back to the bed, his big strong arms cradling me delicately as I blink up at him, not sure what to do. I feel out of control, and it makes me want to run. To where, I have no fucking idea, all I know is I don’t want to be in some stark hospital room with tubes in my arm.

“We’ll get through this, temptress,” he whispers, brushing my hair out of my eyes way too softly for Maddox. He’s broken too. He knew this was a bad idea right from the start.

I nod softly, not believing him but not wanting to cause him more pain either. He helps me back into bed, pulling the covers up and over me so I’m all tucked in. I hug them close to my chest then roll over onto my side and close my eyes again, trying to block them all out. I don’t know how to do this.

Someone brushes my hair softly. “You’re strong, Red, this won’t beat you,” Geovani whispers. My heart aches with the pain in his voice. Even he doesn’t sound like he believes it anymore.

“Is Harley awake?” I hear a woman’s voice I don’t recognize float through the room.

“Just. She needs something more for the pain, or some sedatives,” Ricky tells the woman, desperation in his tone.

“Alright, you lot out. I want a minute with my patient alone,” the woman tells them.

They grumble out a protest, but this lady must have something over them because I hear them leaving.

Her hand comes to my arm softly. “Harley, can you sit up while I run some observations?” Her voice is smooth and sweet,but it doesn’t make me want to move. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”

I let out a heavy sigh then shove the covers back, sitting up gradually this time. She smiles at me, and taking a big fluffy pillow, she props it up behind my back, making sure I’m comfortable.

I recognize her as Ricky’s doctor friend, the one who came to my apartment to take the blood tests. She takes a blood pressure monitor and slides it onto the arm that doesn’t have the IV drip in it.

“Much better,” she comments after checking the reading. She takes it off my arm then moves over to the IV, shutting off the beeping. “I think we can remove this now. You’re a lot more hydrated than when you first got in here. That way you can have a shower if you like.” She smiles, but I have nothing left to give her.

She removes the canula in my arm and applies a little pressure to stop any bleeding, before she places a band aid over the spot. “You might experience some bleeding and cramping over the next couple of weeks. Ricky will keep up your pain meds if you need it. But really simple over-the-counter painkillers like ibuprofen should be enough. Avoid strenuous activity for the next few days, and no sexual activity for a couple of weeks to avoid risk of infection,” she tells me like it’s all that simple. I have just lost my baby, and all that shit is what she cares about.

Tears well in my eyes again. “When can I go home?”

She looks me over with a little more compassion this time. “I would like to see you again in a fortnight for some follow-up tests. As well as the miscarriage, you have a couple of broken ribs and some nasty bruising. You will need to take it easy, let the boys take care of you. But I can’t see any reason why you won’t be able to go home today. Into their care.”

I nod back at her.

She wraps the cord of the IV drip around the machine and wheels it over toward the door. “Do you want me to show the boys back in?”

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