The surgery had gone well. Nikkie Jean had to admit the man who’d taken the other side of the table from her seemed to know what he was doing.
He’d taught both Rafe and Allen, after all. Allen had told her personally that he had no question about the man’s skill, or brilliance, it was his personal choices that made him such an asshole.
Nikkie Jean had to agree, even though Jeoffrey Stockton appeared reasonably pleasant to her. Izzie had one hundred percent of her loyalty.
Baby Alien Alvaro—as the kids had named the baby—kicked her hard. She strongly suspected it was a boy, who would be as big as his six and a half-foot father someday.
And probably huge at birth.
Nikkie Jean was starting to get nervous. She had another ultrasound scheduled in the morning. They’d find out more then.
Jillian, her friend and future sister-in-law was one week further along. The fathers were identical twins. Yet Jillian was only half the size of Nikkie Jean.
People in the hospital were taking bets that Nikkie Jean’s baby would be a ten-pounder.
That was so going to hurt.
Dr. Stockton called her name.
Nikkie Jean turned.
Just as someone screamed outside the door. As something loud cracked on the other side of the walls.
Nikkie Jean would never forget that sound.
Dr. Stockton grabbed her shoulder. From behind. Nikkie Jean flinched. She’d always hated that.
There were others in the room. Stockton nudged Nikkie Jean back toward Sarina and the four others in the surgical suite. “Stay here, Dr. Netorre. None of you are to leave this room until security tells you differently. Lock the doors. Barricade them if you have to.”
She looked straight at him. “Izzie’s out there.”
“I know. I’m going to go find her.”
He didn’t hesitate for even a moment. He was out of the suite in almost an instant.
Nikkie Jean hit the panel to lock them all in.
They weren’t going anywhere.