Page 100 of Mortify

"And the cautious news?" Everly asks.

"These hemorrhages can be unpredictable. Sometimes they resolve quickly, sometimes they linger. You'll need to be on modified bed rest—no lifting anything over ten pounds, no stress, no strenuous activity of any kind."

"For how long?"

"At least until your next ultrasound in two weeks. Possibly longer depending on how things look." She makes notes on the chart. "I am still going to keep you overnight for observation, then you can go home tomorrow if the bleeding stays minimal."

"She'll follow every instruction," I promise. "Whatever she needs to do."

"I can see she's in good hands." Dr. Sims smiles. "I'll check on you again in a few hours. Try to rest."

After she leaves, we sit in silence for a moment.

The adrenaline from the night is crashing, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

"You both look like hell," Everly says softly.

"Been a long night," I admit.

"Tell me," she says. "I need to know it's really over."

So I do.

Tell her about the warehouse, the drugs, the distribution map targeting minorities.

About the Patriot's confession, his complete lack of remorse.

About what Rio did, and the flames that consumed it all.

Kraken adds in any details I missed, and together we paint the picture of the monster's end.

"Dylan's still out there," I finish. "But his protection's gone. His network's exposed. It's just a matter of time."

"He'll run," she says. "He's a coward at heart."

"Maybe. But we'll find him either way."

Her hand tightens on mine. "I brought him into our lives. All those people who died from his drugs?—"

"Stop," Kraken says firmly. "You were targeted. Used. None of this is on you."

"Your dad's right," I agree. "Dylan's choices were his own. You were just another victim."

"Some victim—" she says bitterly.

Kraken speaks up. "Stop, baby girl. You made it through this."

She starts crying, really crying, all the stress and fear pouring out.

I gather her carefully against me while Kraken rubs her back, both of us offering wordless comfort.

"I'm so scared," she admits between sobs. "What if I lose the baby? What if Dylan finds us? What if?—"

"Shh," I murmur into her hair. "One thing at a time. Baby's still fighting. Dylan's a dead man walking. And you've got us. You're not alone in this."

"We're family," Kraken adds. "And you know the club will handle Dylan. Don’t you worry about that for a second, sweetheart."

Eventually her tears slow, exhaustion taking over.

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