Page 192 of The Catalyst

“I found it in the hall. It’s completely shattered, and…it has blood on it. You were right, Oliver. Something happened to her.”

Something toxic and potent races through my body. It’s adrenaline’s dark and dangerous black sheep of a cousin. A violent rumble ghosts through my veins, and it’s my welcome companion.

Fury.

Wrath.

Hatred.

Bloodlust.

“Check the hospitals,” I say before hanging up, ready to head directly for the Gray place. No one gets to take Beth from me and live to tell the tale. I’m going to torture Nolan until he begs to be put out of his misery, and then I’ll keep going, listening to him beg and cry the same way I bet my crazy girl did.

Suddenly, my phone goes off, and I hit the answer button without looking at who it is.

“What?” I growl.

“Sorry to bother you,” a voice I don’t recognize says, probably a sweet old lady from the frail texture of her speech. “This is Rachel Farley with Grove Hill General on behalf of Bethany Mercer. Is this?—”

My heart speeds up again at her name. “This is Oliver Doyle. What about Beth? Is she there?”

“Yes, sir, that’s why I’m calling. She has you listed as her emergency contact.”

I smirk.Clever girl.

“Is she okay?” I growl in irritation.

“She’s injured, but nothing is life-threatening. I just wanted to let you know that she is here, and we’re doing everything to get her back to full health. Don’t you worry.”

The words of who I assume is a nurse calm my rage. “I’m on my way. Can you tell me what room she is in?”

“Yes, sir. Room two-seven-three-six.” I make a mental note of the room number before changing my target to Grove Hill General.

I send a quick text to Gunderson to let her know that Beth is okay before I toss the phone in my passenger seat, fully focusing on the fastest path to my crazy girl.

* * *

I chargeinto the emergency room and navigate the hall until I come to Beth’s room, throwing open the door. My gaze instantly goes to my woman lying in the bed, tears falling down her bruised and bloodied face as my cousin holds her in his arms, stroking her hair. My woman is covered in bruises, dried blood, and tears. I’ve never seen her so banged up in my life.

“What happened?” I ask as I sit at the edge of the bed, determined not to go off the deep end. She needs me to be level-headed. She’s fine with me being psychotic and overprotective on a good day, but right now, she needs a partner, someone to be here for her in her time of need.

A small sob falls from her lips. “I think he killed the baby,” she admits as her hand goes to her stomach, which is more swollen than it was earlier today.

I can’t comprehend why my heart races and a part of me feels just as broken as she is at the news of what happened. Nothing fucking bothers me except someone hurting her, but there’s all these weeks when I’ve avoided acknowledging this baby as something more than just an idea. Even at the doctor’s appointments, it was just a blob on the screen. I wasn’t the one having to go around with the vagina nugget growing inside them. That was Beth, and it’s understandable how she became so attached, but me? I don’t get attached. There are only three people in this world I have a genuine attachment to. Beth, Martin, and my mom. That’s it. Yet, the crotch goblin placed itself on the list without me even realizing it.

I’m…involved emotionally, and that’s odd. Yet, he’s gone.

Our son.

Sadness pricks the backs of my eyes as I grab her free hand and squeeze it in reassurance. “You don’t know that for sure.”

Her fairy green eyes sparkle with tears. “I was bleeding, Oliver, down there.”

I don’t know a lot about pregnancy, but I do know that is not a good thing. Beth sobs as I stroke her hair, and Martin clears his throat.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” he says before his eyes move to her. “I’m sorry. I tried my best.”

She nods with a fake smile in place. “Thank you, but you don’t have to go.”

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