Home > The Rockers' Babies (The Rocker #6)(46)

The Rockers' Babies (The Rocker #6)(46)
Author: Terri Anne Browning

Her head snapped up. Tears streamed down her white as snow face, but her eyes were hard as stone. “You’d better kill that bastard.”

Drake grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door before I could make her that promise.

Chapter 20

Emmie

I woke up on a gurney with some guy shinning a little flashlight in my eyes. I groaned and slapped his hand away when I felt the urge to vomit. “Stop.”

“You have a concussion, miss,” the man informed me in a concerned voice. “Can you tell me what your name is?”

“Ember Jameson Armstrong,” I told him without having to think about it.

“Is there anyone we can call, Mrs. Armstrong?” the doctor asked, noticing my ring.

I frowned, wondering who I needed to call since I had a concussion… And then the reason for my concussion flashed through my mind and I sat up quickly. “Lucy. Where’s Lucy?”

“Who is Lucy?” the doctor asked, helping to steady me because I suddenly felt dizzy after sitting up so fast.

“My niece,” I snapped. “Is she here?”

“You are the only one the paramedics brought in. Someone found you on the side of the road, unconscious and bleeding from the head. They said it looked as if you had been assaulted since your vehicle was still sitting in the middle of the street with the driver’s window shattered and the passenger door wide open.”

I swallowed my growing fear. “And the other vehicle? The truck that hit me?”

The doctor shook his head. “They said they only found your vehicle.”

“Fuck!” I tried to get off the gurney, but the doctor pushed me back against the pillow. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarled, pushing his hands off me. “I have to find Jesse.”

“You have a concussion. You won’t be going anywhere until at least tomorrow as we need to keep you for observations. Not only do you need stitches but you appear to be spotting too…” His words stopped me from struggling and I just lay there, my hand going to my lower stomach.

Oh, no! I couldn’t be losing the baby. I couldn’t. Tears burned my eyes. “Am I going to lose my baby?”

“Right now you are only slightly spotting, but we can’t determine if it is because you are miscarrying or from a blood vessel that burst when you hit the ground. Are you cramping?” I shook my head, because other than my head throbbing in time with my racing heart beat I had no other pain. “That’s good. But you will need to stay in bed for the next day or two until the bleeding stops. I’ll have the tech do an ultrasound to make sure everything is okay.”

There was a knock on the exam room door and a nurse stuck her head around the corner. “Doctor, there is someone at the front desk asking if we have an Emmie Armstrong. Should I let her back?”

“Who is it?” I demanded before the doctor could respond. Could the press have caught wind of this already? Or was it my family?

“She says her name is Harper Stevenson…” the nurse informed me and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s my sister-in-law,” I told the woman. “I want to see her.”

“Okay then.” The nurse left and the doctor started moving around the room, apparently gathering the things he needed to stitch me up.

I lifted a hand to my forehead and found a bandage wrapped around my head. “How bad is the cut?” It wasn’t like this was the first time I’d had to have stitches. Once my mother had pushed me through a window and I had to have stitches on my upper arm. Jesse and Nik had to drive me to West Virginia and make up some bogus excuse about me having fallen. I’d had to have seven stitches then.

“You’ll need at least ten stitches, if not more. It goes down from your hair line to your eyebrow. Apparently you cut your head on a rock when you fell.” He shook his head. “Of course that isn’t what gave you the concussion. Someone beat the hell out of you, woman. When the cops get here, you’ll have to tell them everything. Including who Lucy is.”

I glared at him. “I want to see my family first.”

“That’s not going to keep the cops from asking questions.” The doctor, whose name tag said J. Prescott, glared back at me. “If this was your husband then tell me now and I can have the cops pick his ass up.”

The idea of Nik putting his hands on me in violence nearly made me laugh out loud. Instead I snorted. “Nik would never touch me like that. This wasn’t him, doc.”

It didn’t seem to reassure him, because he was still glowering at me when the door opened and Harper rushed in. She took one look at me and a cry of distress escaped her. “Damn it!”

“Where’s Shane? Jesse?” I was pretty sure that we were at the same hospital Layla was at. It was the closest hospital to Malibu and I had only been a few miles from it when Grady had attacked us. “Is Lucy with him?”

Harper shook her head. “Jesse just got a phone call. I don’t know the particulars but it isn’t good, Em. What happened?”

“That fucker rear-ended us at a red light. Then he tried to take Lucy. I tried to get away, to run after her, but he caught me.” I nodded to the doctor who, while trying to appear busy was listening to every word I said. “I woke up with dickhead flashing his light in my eyes and wanting to vomit.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she carefully wrapped her arms around me. “And the baby?”

I shrugged. “I’m spotting but we don’t know what it’s from yet. I’m not cramping so that’s a good sign.” I hugged her back, then pushed her away. “Get Jesse down here. And when you’re done I need your phone. I have to call Nik and let him know I’m okay.”

“Shane called Nik already. He’s on his way with Mia…” I cursed, already worrying that my husband and child wouldn’t make it here if he was driving knowing that something was wrong with me. “…Shane made him call a cab.” I sucked in a relieved breath.

I tried to call Nik, but he didn’t answer. Instead of leaving a message I hung up and handed Harper the phone back. It took less than two minutes for the door to open once Harper got off the phone with Jesse. Shane entered first with Drake and Jesse right behind them. I glanced at them through one eye, as the doctor had already started prepping my wound to stitch. All three of them looked gray, but it was Jesse who I reached my hand out to. His eyes were pitch black and his big body was shaking.

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