“Sir!” one of the police officers said, approaching.
He held his hand up. “Don’t make me call your fucking boss. I got a call my wife was in this hospital, and she’s fucking pregnant.”
“You need to remain calm.”
“Fuck calm.”
“Mr. Eastwood?”
He turned to the feminine voice. A nurse approached and the two police officers stepped back.
“You called me?”
She nodded. She looked to the police officers. “He’s the husband of the woman you just brought in.”
Drake looked at the men and he saw the pity in their gaze.
“What the fuck happened? Where is Mira?”
“Your wife is in surgery. There was an accident.”
Mira was in surgery. Drake listened, feeling his world starting to tilt. While Mira was at the pharmacy, an addict had entered the store. He’d been on drugs and held a gun. Drake couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
The addict had gotten angry and started to shoot up the store. Mira had been hit.
“The bullet is near her heart. We have been able to stabilize her and the baby is fine.”
“Fuck the baby,” Drake said.
“Sir?”
“No, you listen to me. I will shut down this entire fucking hospital if anything happens to my wife. She is the only person that matters. Do you hear me? She has to live. She has to … live. I fucking love her. Tell the doctors, I don’t know how long it takes but they have to make sure she wakes up. They … make sure she wakes up.”
“Sir?”
Drake grabbed his chest. Everything was spinning. Mira was in the operating room. His wife could die. Shot at.
“Breathe.”
He couldn’t get enough air.
The world started to move from under him. He looked into the police officers’ faces as the world went black.
Chapter Twelve
“Drake, Drake…”
He opened his eyes slightly, groaning as he shifted under the starch-white sheets.
“Can you hear me?”
Mira ran her hand through his hair. She’d been a basket case, crying and praying, reliving their short time together over and over. Why had she been so hard on him? How would she raise a child on her own?
“Mira?”
He tried to sit up, but she put a hand to his chest to keep him down. “Rest, Drake. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“You’re up walking already? How is that possible?”
When he grabbed her hand like a lifeline, he surprised her. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re out of surgery. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Thank God you’re okay.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “I wasn’t in surgery, Drake, you were. But everything’s going to be fine. You’ll be home before you know it.”
Drake shook his head, tugging her closer. Even though he’d been out cold for two days and undergone surgery, he was still strong. “They said there was a bullet next to your heart. They didn’t sound hopeful. The baby? Is the baby okay?”
He was talking crazy. Maybe it was the painkillers messing with his head. “I wasn’t shot. Don’t you remember anything that really happened?” she asked.
He nodded but looked unsure of himself. “You went to get … something at the pharmacy. You never came back. I got a call that you were at the hospital and I ran here in a few minutes. The cops wouldn’t let me see you. They said you were in surgery.”
“Drake, the hospital is at least ten miles from the condo. You couldn’t have run here. It was Katherine. She shot you in the lobby by the elevators. You haven’t regained consciousness until now.”
“Katherine?”
“Don’t worry. She’s in custody. Everything was on the lobby cameras, and there were a lot of witnesses. She’ll never bother us again.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. These past couple of days had been a rollercoaster for her. She’d stayed by Drake’s side the entire time. When she’d found out he was shot, a desperation she’d never known nearly knocked her flat. She’d rethought everything while he’d been asleep. All she needed was a second chance.
“Bother us?”
“I’m sorry for being so hard on you, Drake.”
“No, I shouldn’t have lied. I know that. It was stupid and juvenile. But you have to believe it wasn’t anything sinister. I just … didn’t trust you could love me without a reason.”
She cupped his face, a short beard growing in, prickling her fingers. “I love you unconditionally, Drake Eastwood. Nothing you can buy or do will change that. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.”
They kissed, a soft single kiss.
She hated that he had dark circles under his eyes. He’d look so fragile the past two days with monitors hooked up to him and IV fluids keeping him alive.
“And how long have I been out exactly?”
“Two days,” she said. “Luckily, Katherine wasn’t a good shot. You only got one bullet in the shoulder. The doctors said you were unconscious from the shock.”