Outside the exam room, Jake paced the hallway, stopping at the front door of the building and pivoting to return to the room where Doc examined Kiera. Was her leg okay? Why hadn’t she told him it was getting worse? She had been burning up when he had carried her back here.
He needed to know what was going on behind that door. The infection. The pregnancy. Was the baby okay if she had an infection?
Hell, of course, the baby had an infection. The Morpheus Virus. Jake had given it to the child. It was part of the child.
He kept pacing. An outsider might look at him and see someone acting like a real live, goddamned expectant father.
Because he was an expectant father.
But life wasn’t always simple.
He could blow up buildings and storm a nest of insurgents, but he hadn’t been able to face the truth staring right at him with those big, beautiful hazel eyes.
He had known. Deep down. He hadn’t let her say the words out loud, as if not speaking the truth would prevent him from facing his greatest hope and most paralyzing fear.
He took another ten-foot lap in the hallway.
Hell, he’d been in Special Forces. His whole existence involved taking risks, planting bombs, and taunting death. He’d signed up to be a human lab rat like it was no big deal. Nothing rattled him. Nothing.
Except for a pregnant woman who had taken his life’s hope and his very identity and weaknesses and tied it all up in a messy knot.
It must be the antidote making him feel weird. It blunted his reaction time and his senses. That must be the problem.
Shoving his hand through his hair, he turned and stared at the door like he could manifest X-ray vision.
They were taking too much time. Was everything okay? How did he end up caring so damn much about a child that in the space of less than an hour, had become … his?
Shit. This whole situation was beyond fucked up, his mental state included.
When the door opened, he jumped like a rabbit bolting from a hide.
“Come on in, if you’d like.” Damn Doc, the corner of his sphinxlike mouth quirked upward, as usual, giving little away. If the guy weren’t the best field surgeon on the planet, Jake would permanently wipe that smirk off Doc’s unflappable face. Or shake him by the lapels to make him talk.
Before stepping into the room, he grabbed Doc’s arm and pulled him into the hall. In a whisper, he asked, “Did you check the wounds on her leg and back?”
His friend’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “You did a good job getting the shrapnel out and cleaning the injuries. The one on the leg had become infected, so I opened it up, irrigated the area, and gave her a shot of Rocephin. We’ll repeat the dose daily for five days.”
“Will she be okay?”
“It’s a strong antibiotic.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I operate in absolutes with Special Forces. Not in medicine. But yes, I believe we caught the infection before she became septic.”
“Septic? The shrapnel. Injuries. Is the baby…?” he asked. A tight vise wrapped around his chest. Damn it, he should have insisted on taking Kiera to a hospital. She would have refused, of course. But he should have done more to safeguard her.
“Could have been bad. They were both lucky.”
Fuck. A couple of inches, and this conversation would be very different. The imaginary band beneath Jake’s ribs loosened by a few turns.
“The virus?”
Doc said nothing.
“What?” Jake choked out the word.
“I’ll do an ultrasound exam now, but it may not show us anything. We won’t know the effects of the virus until after she delivers and I can examine the baby.” He rested a rock-steady hand on Jake’s shoulder, and Jake startled again. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you need to chill. This woman has been through way too much, and more stress isn’t going to help.”
“Roger that.”
After a few clench-and-releases of his fists in a feeble attempt to calm the fuck down, he followed Doc into the room.
As he stepped into the makeshift clinic room, his respect for Doc shot up several notches. The guy had created a compact, tiny, functioning hospital seemingly out of thin air. Racks of neatly labeled supplies in plastic bins covered one entire wall. The exam table looked like it could maneuver into almost any position imaginable, a thought that made Jake queasy. A light hung on a metal arm from the ceiling.
There was even an incubator thingy over in the corner. Like for a baby. His vision went gray around the edges for a second.
He pointed to the equipment. “How’d you know to have that … available?”
Doc blinked. “Mateo contacted me privately a few months ago, saying it was possible we’d be treating a pregnant patient or a newborn at some point. He didn’t provide further information. Over the past few months, I’ve collected some extra pieces of equipment, just in case.”
“Mateo thought of everything, didn’t he?” Bitterness coated his tongue. Should have been Jake setting it all up. Should have been Jake going with her to appointments early on.
No. He should have prevented this from happening in the first place.
“Mateo tried to cover the bases to keep Kiera and the baby safe. I wonder if he meant to bring her here all along. He was good at probabilities. Maybe he anticipated what might happen.” Doc motioned for Jake to precede him. “We’ll never know.”
Kiera rested on the exam table, head turned toward Jake, searching him with those soulful eyes. Her dark brown hair fanned out on a pillow. She had her clothes on, but the legging was scooted up on the one side. Red skin bloomed out from under the square bandage.
Doc indicated for her to pull the hem of her shirt up. Her rounded belly was too big for her delicate frame. Too small for how many weeks along she was in the pregnancy. The bandage on the side of her abdomen reminded him of how close she’d come to disaster.
The view of her lying up there made the muscles between Jake’s shoulder blades crawl, like he wanted to throw his body over hers. Or rip the arms off of anyone who dared to touch her.
She grabbed Jake’s hand with her smaller one, giving his protective urges something to focus on. “Doc’s going to look at the baby.” Fear moved over her features as her brows rose. Her cheeks seemed too flushed. Probably took a few hours for the antibiotic to kick in. “Will you watch with me?”
A lump in his throat made it hard to answer. But in this situation, there was only one correct response. “You bet.” Not sure what to do, he stood next to her and patted her on the shoulder while twining her fingers in his. Gently, though. Even a small movement on his part could hurt her.
He would do this. He would stand beside her for as long as was needed.
Doc studied Jake. Then he turned on a small machine and flipped some switches. After a squirt of ice-blue gel, he placed a probe on Kiera’s belly. A shifting black and white image filled the screen, and Doc played with the machine and clicked buttons, taking measurements. Jake stood completely still, knees locked, not wanting to disturb the exam, too terrified to ask any questions.
Because he didn’t want the answers.
With a satisfied nod, Doc unfroze the last picture and finished jotting down some notes on a form next to the machine. “Okay, Kiera. Growth parameters are on the small side, but still within the bell curve of normal. Not sure where you’re hiding this kid, but the baby is growing. Amniotic fluid level is also in normal range.”
“The baby looks okay? Even with the…” Her chin quivered.
Jake vowed to do anything in the universe to make things okay for her. He forced the hand grasping Kiera’s to relax. Every other part of his body went whip-cord tense.
“You personally haven’t gained much weight, but yes, this baby’s growth is on track.” Doc hadn’t answered her question.
His teammate adjusted some settings on the machine. “Time for the fun part. Here’s the nose and mouth profile.” He pointed to the screen as he moved the probe around. “Here is one hand and … the second hand. And here are”—he slid the probe up over her stretched belly button—“two little feet.”
Turning another knob, the rapid whooshing sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room.
Jake felt that heartbeat in his own chest as an invisible connection clinked into place. His baby.
Then he looked again. It all became too real. His head throbbed. He was going to be a father. Not in the distant future, either.
Jake wanted to kiss her and then run away. The end of the earth would be a good place to start. Instead, he took in the sight of Kiera’s glistening eyes, fought every instinct, and stayed put.
Doc twisted the probe and pressed it into Kiera’s belly. “And here is … hmmm. Let’s see. Yes. Looks like a hamburger.”
“A what?” Jake spluttered.
She squeezed his hand, eyebrows raised and mouth open.
Doc raised a dark eyebrow. “Relax. A ‘hamburger’ describes the way the baby’s genitalia look on ultrasound when it’s a … girl.” He smiled. “Could have been a turtle, and then it would have been a boy.”
Kiera’s expression was beautiful. “A baby girl? Oh, wow. They couldn’t see gender on the twenty-week ultrasound. Uncooperative baby, go figure.” She bit her lip. “I’d wondered. My sweet girl,” she murmured, reaching out her free hand toward the screen.
Jake stood frozen, stupefied.
As Doc wiped gel from her belly and tugged down the hem of her shirt, he mouthed, “Give her a hug.” He exited, quietly closing the door.
And, in the absence of any other good ideas, that was exactly what Jake did, leaning down and wrapping his arms around Kiera’s thin shoulders, the movement awkward on the exam table. How long he stood there, he had no idea.
Baby. Girl.
His.
His chest expanded with pride.
With the virus.
A wave of terror slammed into his gut, almost knocking him on his ass.
After a time, Jake pulled away. “Was it what you expected?” Damn, his voice sounded like sandpaper, like he had something stuck in his throat. He kept patting her shoulder, as if he couldn’t bring himself to lose contact with her.
“I don’t know, I mostly hoped it—she—would be healthy. Especially with all the stress and … everything with the pregnancy.”
“So is everything else okay, um, physically?”
Despite the fatigue, she was even more beautiful than he could imagine. “Yes, Doc said I’m perfectly healthy for an almost thirty-six-week pregnant woman who’s been shot at and exposed to toxic fumes and who has an infected leg. He checked my heart and lungs. Also, no dilation yet, and baby is in the proper position. Doc monitored for contractions and checked the baby’s heart rate pattern. All good. No complications. I believe he called me ‘large and in charge.’”
“Not so large, but yes, a good report.” Damn it, he couldn’t stop grinning. “Your leg okay?”
“It’s numb right now, thanks to Doc. What a relief.” She sighed. “Help me up?”
Like he’d been given permission to touch a priceless glass sculpture, he took her hands and guided her to sit at the edge of the table, then helped her step onto the floor. No way was he going to think about how that tiny action of her placing hands in his and trusting his support made him feel a hundred feet tall.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he said, “I’m really happy the baby is fine. It’s one less thing for you to worry about.”
“You’ve got that right. A big relief.” She frowned. “With the virus, we’ll have to wait and see, which is hard. But so far, everything seems good. So, another relief.” She worried at her lower lip with her teeth.
As he shifted from foot to foot, black, creeping doubt wormed its way into his gut. Thank God her worry level had dropped.
Because Jake’s fear level had just shot off the charts.