Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (107 page)

“What kind of shape was she in?” I ask urgently, finally finding my voice.

“I really don’t know. I wasn’t working with that victim,” he says quickly as he starts to walk off.

“No, please! She’s my wife!” I yell at him, grabbing him by the shirt collar, desperately trying to get him to pay attention. “What hospital are the victims being taken to?”

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I can’t say for certain. I know that University, Harborview, and Virginia Mason have all been notified that they’ll probably be seeing some victims from this crash. Possibly even Overlake since it’s so close. I’m afraid that’s all I know,” he says looking at me apologetically. “I really hope your wife is okay.”

I release my hold on him and he turns and continues on his task, leaving me standing in the middle of the highway a complete and utter emotional mess.

“You good to drive while I call the hospitals or you want me to drive?” Conner asks. And I stare mutely at him as it takes me a second to comprehend his words. Sam. Oh, God … where is she?
How
is she? “Okay, give me the keys; I’ll drive.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll drive.” My voice sounds alien to my ears. Hurrying back to our cruiser, I stuff Sam’s phone into my pocket as I climb behind the wheel and start her up. And as Dave begins cold calling the area hospitals, I ease the cruiser along the shoulder until I get to the nearest available exit. Then I punch it, hauling ass off the highway and back toward the city.

As I drive, I listen to Dave on the phone, trying desperately to locate Samantha and I’m suddenly very grateful that he’s here. He calls first one and then another, and the waiting and the not knowing is just about to drive me out of my freaking mind. Samantha. My sweet, beautiful goddess. An image of her sitting in my arms sipping champagne two days ago, her face kissed by the firelight, suddenly dances in my mind, and I feel my heart constrict.
She can’t be gone. She can’t be gone; I would feel it.
Another image of Sam floats through my mind: her looking down at me through wet ringlets of hair in shocked wonder as I perched on bended knee, offering her my grandmother’s ring.
God, don’t do this to me.
Running naked through the new house, chasing Sam as she giggles wildly.
Please, don’t take her from me. Please!

I can feel the unshed tears stinging my eyes as my hands grip the steering wheel fiercely and I floor the pedal, racing toward the city. Finally, Dave locates her at Virginia Mason Medical Center on 9
^th
Ave, and I hit the lights and sirens, breaking all speed limits between me and that hospital in order to get to her. And of course, no one will give out any information over the phone so, I am still in total darkness about her condition as I race through the streets.

I pull up to the emergency entrance of the hospital and jump out, running for the door with Dave on my heels. I head straight for the information desk, flashing my badge as I urgently tell the volunteer who greets me who I’m looking for.

Examining the computer screen, she says, “Yes, Ms. Colby is in cubicle number 14, Detective.”

Tossing the cruiser keys to Conner, I turn and sprint past the desk into the emergency treatment area, frantically watching the numbers as I go … 11, 12, 13 … 14!

“Sam!” I push aside the curtain as I rush into the small space and there she lays, on a gurney, eyes closed, looking pale and small. “Oh, God,” I whisper.

Suddenly, her eyes flutter open and she looks up at me with those big, bright green jewels.

“Josh!”

I rush to her side, taking her into my arms and squeezing her tightly to me. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, God,” I whisper as I hold her, and she softly cries. I let go of her and gently take her face into my hands, looking intently into her eyes. “I was so scared, baby. I saw your car and my heart stopped.”

“I was scared to,” she says tearfully. “When that truck blew up, and I couldn’t get out of the car! And that poor driver! It was so awful, Josh. That poor man!”

I fold her into my arms again and she shudders as she cries softly. “Are you okay, baby?” I ask, gently running my hands down her arms as I look her over, feeling her, reassuring myself that she’s safe. She has a small bandage on her forehead, beneath which I can see stitches, another bandage on her left arm and a few scrapes and bruises on her legs but, other than that, she looks none the worse for wear. “What are the doctors saying?”

“I’m all right, just shaken up. They had a plastic surgeon put seven stitches in my forehead. My head hit the steering wheel pretty hard I guess; the doctor thinks I have a mild concussion. And a nasty laceration on my arm from the airbag,” she says, holding up her bandaged forearm.

“And that’s it? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Well…,”

“Well what? What’s wrong?” I demand.

“Nothing! They x-rayed my legs and my spine because I was trapped in the car but, I don’t have any broken bones or damage anywhere. But the doctor who examined me insisted on running all sorts of tests just to make sure there are no internal injuries or anything. I’m just waiting for him to get back with results.”

“And you’re sure that’s all?” I ask, caressing her face with my hand. “You’re really okay?”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Folding her into my arms once more, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling my heart finally begin to calm down. “You have no idea how scared I was, Sam. And I couldn’t find you; I had no clue which hospital you were in. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I lost my phone, I don’t know where it is.”

“Oh, yeah,” I mumble, reaching into my pocket and pulling out her cell phone. “I found it in the floor of your car.”

“Thank you,” she smiles meekly at me. “I guess my car is totaled, huh?

“Yes. And the sight of it scared me half to death, baby.”

“What were you doing out that way anyway? How did you know about the crash?”

“I didn’t know. Conner and I were headed out to Kirkland, following up on a lead in a case when we saw the crash and stopped to help. Where were you going?”

“I was headed back home,” she says softly. “After I left the salon with Megan, I went out to my mom’s house to talk.”

“Your mom’s?” I can hear the surprise in my voice, and she nods at me.

“I was thinking about everything you said the other day. Everything she told you at the gallery. And I wanted to tell her about us in person. I didn’t want her to hear it from Lucas,” Sam says softly.

“How did that go?” I ask, looking into her eyes, still caressing her lovely face.

She shrugs and gives me a small smile. “I think it went okay. She seemed … supportive?”

“That sounded convincing,” I smile at her and she giggles.
God, I love that sound!

“No, really. She was … accepting. And gracious. She apologized again, and she actually spoke somewhat fondly of you.”

“Of me?”

“Um hm. She said she was impressed by the things you said about me when you showed her my artwork at the gallery. She said it was obvious to her that you really do love me.”

“Your mother said all that?” I ask skeptically.

“Yes, she did,” Sam giggles again, and I smile at her.

“All right, Ms. Colby,” a tall blonde doctor enters the cubicle, looking over what I presume are Sam’s tests results. I stand as he enters the space and he stops talking when he sees me. “Oh, I’m sorry Detective but, we’re not finished here. Can you give us a minute, please?”

“No, doctor, it’s okay,” Samantha speaks up, taking my hand. “Detective Pierce is my fiancé.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Very well then. Ms. Colby, I have gone over all of your test results and your blood work, and I now feel much more comfortable giving you a clean bill of health,” he says, looking from her to me. “But I want you to know, you’re a pretty lucky girl. From what I hear, there are several fatalities and numerous serious injuries flooding all of the area hospitals right now, not just us.”

“Yeah, I was at the scene,” I tell him. “It looks like a war zone out there.”

“I can imagine,” he replies, nodding at me. Then he turns to Sam and says, “Go home, maybe take it easy for the next 24 hours.”

“And you’re sure everything’s okay?” I ask him, feeling all types of grateful for our good fortune right now.

“I assure you, Detective, besides the mild concussion and a few scrapes and bruises, your fiancée and your baby are just fine.”

“My
what!?
”

Samantha and I say those words in stereo and the doctor looks at us in bewilderment.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he says, looking slightly confused. “You’re so far along, I just assumed you knew.”

My head is spinning. A baby? Fuck.

“Um, how … how far along am I?” I hear Sam asking, her voice sounding very small all of a sudden.

“I would say around eight or nine weeks,” he answers, and Sam frowns. “Do you have an OB/GYN, Ms. Colby?”

“Yes. Dr. Lake.”

“Oh, Dr. Susan Lake,” he asks. “Yes, she’s excellent; she has office hours here actually. You might want to consider going by there and making an appointment as soon as possible, okay. And she can help you pinpoint an exact date.”

A baby. Eight or nine weeks? I’m no math wiz but, that can’t be right. I listen in a daze as the doctor tells Sam to go upstairs to her gynecologist’s office to make an appointment, and my mind is running a mile a minute trying to process everything. A baby. A fucking baby. Really?

This is all my fault. I should never have listened to her when she said she was on the pill. I should never have stopped using the condoms. Fuck! What a minute, what am I saying? This is not my fault. She’s the one who insisted we didn’t need the condoms anymore. Did she do this on purpose?
Stop it, Pierce. Don’t be an ass. Why would she do this on purpose?

The doctor gives Sam her release papers and she stands, a bit unsteadily, reaching out for my arm to lean on. I wrap my arm around her, still in shock, as we head out of the cubicle and down the corridor. I spot Dave standing at the nurses station, talking on his cellphone, and he hangs up as we approach him.

“Hey, Samantha!” He gives her a gingerly hug as she leans against me.

“Listen, Dave, why don’t you go ahead and take the cruiser back to the station. We might be a little while here.”

“Is everything all right?” he asks with a frown. No doubt taking in the shocked expression on my face.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. We just have to go upstairs to take care of something.”

He hesitates a beat, looking from me to Sam. “Okay, here,” he says, fishing the keys out of his pocket. “You take the cruiser and I’ll just get a ride with one of the blue and whites. Lord knows there’s enough of them milling around right now with the accident. I moved it to the emergency parking lot.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” I say sedately, taking the keys from him.

He gives me another curious look. “Okay. Call if you need anything, all right?” I nod at him. “I’m glad you’re in one piece, Sam.”

“Thanks.” She smiles meekly at him. He turns and leaves then, and we head for the nearest elevator.

We’re silent on the ride up to the fifth floor and I get the feeling Samantha is just as stunned by this news as I am. As we enter the doctor’s office I feel suddenly tired. It’s been a rollercoaster of a day.

We walk up to the window and Sam tells the nurse who she is and that she was just in the multi-car pile-up on 405, and that she just got a pregnancy diagnosis down in the ER. She tells the nurse that she just wants to make an appointment but, once the doctor hears that she was in the accident, she insists on seeing Sam immediately.

We are ushered into a large exam room and I still feel as if I’m in a dream sequence or something. But looking at the exam table with the stirrups attached to it, I know this is very real. A baby.

We sit nervously, waiting for the doctor to come in, and Sam gently slips her hand in mine. Reflexively, I give hers a light squeeze as I continue to glance around the room, taking in the chart of the female reproductive system that hangs on the wall.

“Say something,” Sam whispers softly, and I turn my head to look at her.

“What do you want me to say?”

She doesn’t answer for a long moment. And then she doesn’t get a chance to as the door opens and the doctor comes in.

“Hello Samantha,” she says brightly. She’s not what I expected. Dr. Lake is young, maybe a little older than me, and very smart looking. In fact, she has a librarian thing going on with her red hair pulled into a tight bun and glasses. “And you are?”

“Detective Joshua Pierce,” I say, clearing my throat to introduce myself.

“Josh is my fiancé,” Sam explains.

“Oh, how nice to meet you,” she smiles. “So, Samantha, you were in that horrible pile-up on the Interstate, and the doctor in the ER just informed you that you’re pregnant?”

“Yes. He said about eight or nine weeks but…,” Her voice trails off as she frowns.

The doctor turns to her computer as they talk, looking up Sam’s records. “And I’m assuming you’ve not been suffering from any symptoms? No nausea, fatigue or lightheadedness?”

Sam doesn’t answer right away and, when I look over at her, she is blushing a pale rose color and chewing her bottom lip. “Well, I … I have been sort of tired a lot lately. And the nausea … but I just thought it was nerves and stress over everything going on. We just moved into a new house and … my show…”

She wipes a lone tear from her cheek and looks away, embarrassed, and I lightly squeeze her hand once more.
Shit.
This is real. A fucking baby.

“All right. I’ve just looked up the records from your ER visit and looked at Dr. Erbert’s tests results. No sense repeating your blood work if I don’t have to,” Dr. Lake says. “But I see why he believes you to be so far along. I’d like to do a trans-vaginal ultrasound right now, if you have the time.”

She looks at us expectantly and Sam looks up at me questioningly. “Yeah, of course,” I answer with a tired sigh.

“Excellent. I’m going to step out for a moment and give you some privacy. Everything off from the waist down and hop onto the table for me. You can cover yourself with the paper blanket.”