Chapter 2 - The Son He Almost Lost|
Thomas carried Clare through the shattered restaurant while the sound of gunfire faded behind them.
Rain struck her face as he pushed through the service entrance.
His black SUV waited beside the loading dock, its engine still running.
“Stay with me, Mrs. Moretti,” he said.
Clare tried to answer, but another wave of pain stole her breath.
Blood had soaked through the lower part of her blue evening gown.
Thomas saw it when he opened the rear door.
For the first time in the six years he had worked for Vincent Moretti, his hands trembled.
“Hospital,” Clare whispered.
“I know.”
“Not Vincent’s hospital.”
Thomas looked at her.
Even through the pain, she recognized the question in his eyes.
Vincent owned influence everywhere in Port Sterling.
He had judges who returned his calls, doctors who attended his parties, and police officers who knew when to look away.
The private medical center bearing the Moretti family name was the last place Clare wanted to be.
“Mercy General,” she managed.
Thomas nodded.
Then he drove.
He called emergency dispatch through the SUV’s hands-free system, explaining that he was bringing in a pregnant woman injured during a shooting.
The dispatcher urged him to stop for an ambulance.
Thomas gave their location and followed the instructions until paramedics intercepted them near the hospital.
By the time Clare was transferred to the ambulance, her vision had begun to blur.
A paramedic placed an oxygen mask over her face.
Another checked her blood pressure and asked questions she struggled to understand.
“How many weeks pregnant?”
“Thirty-five,” Clare whispered.
“Any bleeding before tonight?”
She shook her head.
“Does the baby usually move?”
Clare placed a shaking hand against her stomach.
She waited.
Nothing.
The silence inside her terrified her more than the gunfire.
“Please,” she said.
The paramedic squeezed her shoulder.
“We're getting you help.”
At Mercy General, bright lights replaced the darkness.
Doctors moved around her, speaking quickly about trauma, fetal monitoring, and a possible placental abruption.
Clare understood only pieces.
Her baby was in danger.
She was losing blood.
There was no time.
A woman with dark hair and tired, intelligent eyes leaned over her.
“I’m Dr. Lena Park,” she said.
“We need to deliver your baby immediately.”
Clare caught the doctor's wrist.
“Will he live?”
“We're going to do everything possible for both of you.”
Clare searched her face.
“Promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“If his father comes, don't let him take my son.”
Dr. Park's expression changed.
She glanced toward Thomas, who stood near the doorway.
“Is your husband a danger to you?”
Clare thought about Vincent's eyes moving from her outstretched hand to Ruby's frightened face.
She thought about the door closing.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The doctor did not ask her to explain.
She instructed a nurse to contact the hospital's patient-safety team.
Then she returned her attention to Clare.
“Right now, we're going to get you through surgery.”
The operating room was cold.
Clare remembered a bright circle of light overhead and someone brushing hair away from her forehead.
She remembered asking whether her baby had a heartbeat.
Then medication carried her into darkness.
When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she noticed was the absence of weight beneath her ribs.
Her hand moved instinctively toward her stomach.
It was smaller.
Empty.
Panic rose inside her.
“My baby.”
A nurse appeared beside her.
“Your little boy is alive.”
Clare began to cry.
The nurse smiled gently.
“He needed help breathing at first, but he's doing much better.”
“Where is he?”
“In the neonatal intensive care unit.”
“Can I see him?”
“As soon as the doctors say you're stable enough.”
Clare turned her face toward the ceiling.
She had imagined meeting her son in a quiet room, with Vincent beside her and flowers waiting on a table.
Instead, she had entered motherhood beneath surgical lights, wondering whether the man who married her would come looking for them.
A few minutes later, Thomas appeared.
His white shirt was stained with blood.
Her blood.
“Thomas,” she whispered.
He stepped closer.
“Your boy is a fighter.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Through the nursery window.”
“What does he look like?”
Thomas swallowed.
“Like somebody who already knows how to survive.”
Clare managed a small smile.
Then she saw his phone.
“Vincent called?”
Thomas said nothing.
She understood.
“What did you tell him?”
“Only that you were receiving medical treatment.”
“Did he ask about the baby?”
Thomas looked away.
That answer hurt more than she expected.
“He asked where Ruby was being treated,” Thomas admitted.
Clare closed her eyes.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Thomas's phone vibrated again.
He looked at the screen.
His expression hardened.
“What is it?” Clare asked.
Thomas hesitated.
“A message from Vincent's security chief.”
“Read it.”
He reluctantly obeyed.
“Mr. Moretti wants his wife returned to the family medical center immediately.”
Clare stared at the ceiling.
The words were not a question.
They were an order.
Then Thomas received another message.
This one contained a photograph.
It showed the emergency entrance of Mercy General.
Beneath it were six words.
We know where she is.
Thomas moved toward the window.
A dark sedan was parked across the street.
Its headlights were off.
Clare watched him carefully.
“That's not Vincent's car, is it?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
Thomas lowered the phone.
“I don't know.”
Clare felt fear tighten around her heart.
Her husband had abandoned her, but someone else was apparently waiting to finish what the gunfire had started.
She touched her empty stomach.
“Thomas.”
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Get me my son.”
“He needs medical care.”
“Then we take the medical care with us.”
Thomas looked at her for a long moment.
She was pale, weak, and barely conscious after emergency surgery.
But there was something in her eyes he had never seen before.
For four years, Clare Moretti had survived by remaining quiet.
Tonight, that woman had disappeared.
Thomas finally nodded.
“I know someone who can help.”
Outside, the dark sedan remained motionless.
Inside the hospital, Clare made the first decision of her new life.
May you like
Vincent Moretti would never again decide whether she and her son deserved to be saved.
And before dawn, he would discover what happened when the woman he had treated as powerless finally took control.
