I let out a sigh as I read over the same paragraph for the fourth time.
Now that our families and friends know, I’m don’t care about the other students finding out.
I glance at the time and notice I only have an hour left before meeting Noah for dinner.
With my hand resting on my stomach, I force my attention back to my work. With all the help Noah’s been giving me, I’ve been able to up my overall average, but I can’t expect him to help me with all my work.
The thought helps me focus, and I manage to get half the assignment done before I have to pack up.
Clearing the table I used, I grab my bag and make my way out of the library.
I take the stairs down, then turn right toward the dorm. Pulling my phone out of my bag, I message Noah.
C: Are you at the restaurant?
It takes a couple of seconds for him to reply.
N: I just left the suite.
My eyes dart up, and I watch as Noah steps out of the dorm. He turns toward the restaurant when there’s a loud crash behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as a car drives through the security barrier.
A gasp explodes over my lips as students pile out of the library to see what the commotion is about.
The car comes to a skidding stop on the stretch of lawn beside the parking area, which is right across from me.
I feel a flutter of relief when the driver stumbles out of the car. He begins to wave something around, yelling, “Where’s Noah West?”
A frown forms on my face until it registers what he’s holding. The blood drains from my face as my head turns back toward the dorms.
I see Noah staring at the man.
“Noah West!” The man shouts, sounding hysterical. He waves a gun recklessly around as he begins to stumble into the street.
Not thinking, I drop my bag and begin to run toward Noah.
NOAH
Coming out of the dorm, I hear a loud commotion. My head snaps in the direction of the main entrance, in time to see a car driving right through the security barrier.
“What the fuck?” I mutter as I watch the vehicle come to a screeching halt opposite the library.
A man stumbles out, waving a gun at all the students in his near vicinity. “Where’s Noah West?” he shouts.
Holy shit.
My heartbeat speeds up uncontrollably as he turns in my direction. I stand frozen with shock as security guards run toward him.
“Noah West!” The man shouts, sounding hysterical. He waves the firearm around as he begins to stumble into the street.
“Noah!” I hear Carla scream. “Run!”
My head snaps toward Carla’s voice, and all my breath rushes from my body as she sprints toward me.
No!
I dart forward, shouting, “Get down, Carla!”
There’s a panicked look on her face as she runs to me.
My eyes dart to the man, and I watch as a security guard tackles him. A gunshot reverberates in the air as they hit the concrete, and the noise sends ripples of shock racing over my skin.
The guards manage to restrain him and kick the gun out of his reach.
My gaze turns back to Carla, and it takes a split-second for my world to implode. She stumbles to a halt, and her eyes lock on mine before she slumps to her knees.
“No. No. No.” I dart forward and drop down in front of her. “No,” I breathe, and then she coughs, and blood sprays over my neck and shirt.
Fuck.
God, no!
Everything I’ve been taught by my mother rushes into my mind as my emotions spiral into a chaotic mess. I move behind her, and seeing the crimson stain growing on her back, I quickly press my hand against the wound to keep air from being sucked in so her lung won’t collapse.
My eyes dart around us, and then they lock on a guard that’s running toward us. “Get a car! We need to get her to the hospital.”
He turns and runs in the direction of where the SUVs are parked.
Gunshot wound to the chest has an eighty percent survival rate.
But our baby?
Carla coughs again, and it makes my gaze snap back to her. Her eyes are locked on my face, and seeing the fear reassures me she’s still alert.
“You’re going to be fine,” I say as I dig my phone out of my pocket and dial my mother’s number.
Mom doesn’t answer on the first try, so I keep pressing redial until she finally answers, “Noah, what’s wrong?”
I ramble all the information she’ll need, “Carla’s been shot in her back. I think it hit her lung. She’s coughing up blood. I have the wound covered with my hand. We’re bringing her in. I need you to be ready.”
“Okay. I’ll get an operating room ready for her. I’ll be at the emergency entrance to receive her.”