Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Jasper
Red?” I call, stepping into the hallway.
And that’s when I see him.
Tall. Gray at the temples. Tailored suit.
Standing too close.
Too damn close to my girl.
My girl.
Abigail sways a little on her feet. And for half a second, my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing. Then her knees buckle. “Abigail!”
I run.
I see it happen in slow motion—her body tipping backward, her hand reaching for something to catch her.
Her head hits the marble floor with a sickening crack. The sound splits my chest open as I watch in horror. She doesn’t move. Not even an inch.
“No!” I drop to my knees so hard it jars my bones. My hands are on her instantly, cradling her head, lifting it carefully off the floor.
Her skin is pale. Lips parted. Eyes closed.
Behind me, I hear footsteps pounding toward us.
“What the hell—” Lawson.
“Jesus Christ.” Lincoln.
Beau doesn’t say anything. But I can feel him as he storms past us.
My focus remains locked on her. “Abbie girl,” I rasp, tapping her cheek lightly. “Abbie. Open your eyes for me.”
Nothing.
Her lashes flutter weakly but don’t lift.
My eyes move to the slow rise and fall of her chest. She’s breathing.
Thank god.
Linc drops beside me, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling 911,” he says.
I can’t look away from her face. There’s a faint red mark forming near her temple where she hit her head on the floor. Rage floods my bloodstream so fast it makes my vision blur.
Behind me, there’s a heavy thud.
Beau.
“Did you touch her?” Beau’s voice is low. Deadly. “What the fuck did you do to her?” he yells.
I can’t turn my head.
I want to plow Keller through this fucking floor, but I can’t turn my head.
Lincoln presses a hand to my shoulder briefly. “Ambulance is on the way.”
Abbie’s mouth moves slightly, and I lean closer. “Come on, Red. Stay with me.”
Behind us, Beau is seething. Words spill out of him in sharp, furious bursts, but they blur together in my ears. All I hear is blood rushing through me.
I move to stand, but Lincoln’s hand clamps around my arm like a vise. “Beau’s got it. She needs you,” he says firmly. “Stay here.”
My jaw clenches so tight it aches.
Behind us, Lawson’s voice joins in—controlled but strained. “Beau. Not here. Too many eyes.”
Beau’s breathing is ragged. “What the fuck did you do to her?” he asks, quieter this time, but his tone is no less venomous.
Keller laughs. “Actually, I didn’t do a thing. Just wanted to introduce myself to your… plaything.”
Beau practically snarls. “You son of a—”
“Beau!” Lawson snaps. “Not. Here.”
I look behind me just in time to see Lawson pull Beau off, where he still has Miles pinned against the wall. Keller just smiles, straightens his suit jacket, and says, “Have a good night, gentlemen.”
Then he walks back down the hallway, all the confidence in the world in his stride.
None of us chase him. Because we can’t. There’s too many eyes. Which is exactly why he came here.
We knew it was a possibility that he’d make an appearance tonight, but considering it’s a wildlife conservation gala and he’s actively trying to destroy the wildlife in the area, we weren’t sure he’d have the balls.
And for most of the night, he didn’t. In fact, I’d wager everything I have that he walked in and came straight for Abigail.
Her fingers twitch in my hand, and I look down instantly. “Sweetheart?” Linc says softly.
Her lashes flutter again, and she slowly cracks her eyes open. They’re unfocused and glassy as they look up at me. Relief hits me so hard I nearly choke on it.
“Jas…” she murmurs.
That one word wrecks me.
I lower my forehead to hers carefully. “Shh. Shh, Abbie Girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. We’re getting you some help, okay?”
Her breathing steadies just slightly as I hear sirens growing louder in the distance.
Linc shifts closer to her other side, his voice calm but tight. “You took a fall, Sweetheart. Ambulance is almost here.”
She tries to move, and I tighten my grip gently. “Don’t move. Stay still for me.”
Her eyes find mine again, barely open, confusion swimming there.
Fear flashes through me all over again, so I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, just above the forming bruise. “We’re all right here,” I whisper. “Not going anywhere.”
Hospitals smell like antiseptic and fear.
I’ve never liked either.
Especially not since I had to sit in a hospital and watch my sister heal after our own father almost took her from me. After he did take my mother from me.
Even when I’ve gotten hurt on the back of a bull, I did everything I could to avoid coming to this godforsaken place.
And yet, here I am.
Staring at the love of my life.
She looks too small in that bed.
Too pale.
There’s an IV running into her arm. A heart monitor beeping steady, rhythmic reminders that she’s still here despite the dark bruise that mars her temple, severe against her soft, pale skin.
I haven’t stopped staring at it.
She’s drifted in and out twice since we got here. Both times her eyes barely opened before sliding shut again. She tried to answer a nurse’s questions, but her words were slurred and unfocused.
The four of us are crammed into her small room, desperate to see her hazel eyes staring back at us.
When we first got here, the staff made it clear that since we weren’t “family” the four of us weren’t allowed in her room.
But one look at the mix of sheer terror, panic, and anger plastered across all of our faces and the sweet older lady at the intake desk—who we will be sure to send the biggest gift basket known to man kind—relented and let us back on the promise we wouldn’t cause any problems. None of us argued when she fixed us with a glare that could drop even the strongest man to his knees and made it clear that even the slightest hint of trouble would have us thrown out on our asses.
Lincoln sits closest to the bed on her left, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped so tight his knuckles are white. He’s the picture of calm on the outside, but I know him. I know his jaw has been locked so hard for the last hour; I wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked a tooth.
Lawson stands near the window, arms crossed, staring out into the dark parking lot. He hasn’t moved much. Just the occasional grunt at the staff while keeping a watchful eye. Calculating, really.
Beau is pacing.
Back and forth, and back and forth. Like a caged animal that’s chomping at the bit to be unleashed. It’s rare I see him like this; it’s usually me. But when he is, it’s easy to understand the gravity of the situation.
And me?
I’m sitting on the edge of her bed, careful not to disturb any wires as I stroke my thumb along the back of her limp hand. I feel like I’m about to unravel. She’s my center, and I can’t seem to find my balance knowing she’s hurt—again.
Miles Keller’s face keeps replaying in my head.
The way he stood over her.
The way he looked at her.
Like, if he could have, he would have picked her up and carried her out of our lives forever.
“What the hell do you think he said to her?” Beau finally snarls, breaking the silence.
Lincoln doesn’t look up. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” Beau snaps. “He had to have done something. I mean—she fucking fainted, Linc.”
My teeth grind together. “He said her name.” All three of them look at me. “Her actual name. Said he wanted to introduce himself. Called her our plaything.” The word tastes like poison on my tongue.
Beau’s hands curl into fists.
Lawson turns from the window slowly. “He wanted to terrify her.”
“Job well fucking done,” Beau mutters darkly. He scrubs his hand down his face and sighs heavily. “He’s baiting us.”
“I think he’s nervous we haven’t done anything yet. Wanted to push us to do something reckless.”
“It won’t work,” Law snarls.
I look back down at Abigail. Her fingers twitch faintly in mine. She looks so… so fragile.
And I hate that.
Because she’s not fragile at all.
This woman—our woman—she’s fucking fire.
She’s stubborn and brave and stronger than any of us.
The door opens before any of us can spiral further, and the doctor steps in.
Mid-forties, tired eyes, but professional posture, Abigail’s chart in his hand.
“Gentlemen,” he says, glancing between us.
“The nurse at intake filled me in. She made it clear that the four of you are her family. Her only support system.”
We all nod in unison.
“Well… I’m technically not supposed to do this, but I won’t tell anyone if you won't.” A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, and I couldn’t be more grateful that we got the staff that we did today.
“How is she?” Lincoln asks.
The doctor clears his throat. “We’ve run a CT scan to rule out intracranial bleeding.
There’s no evidence of hemorrhage or skull fracture.
Neurological reflexes are intact. Pupillary response is normal.
” His eyes scan over the tablet in his hands.
“She does appear to have sustained a mild concussion from striking her head on the floor. We’ll want to monitor her for worsening symptoms—confusion, vomiting, severe headache—but at this time, there’s no structural damage. ”
Air leaves my lungs in a rush.
“Then why did she faint?” Beau presses.
The doctor glances at his chart again.
“Well,” he says carefully, “based on what you told the nurses—that she may have encountered someone who caused her acute stress—it’s possible she experienced a vasovagal syncope episode.
It’s a sudden drop in heart rate and blood pressure, often triggered by emotional distress.
” The four of us look at one another, then back at the doctor.
My hand stays firmly wrapped around Abigail’s.
“Additionally, you mentioned earlier she hadn’t been feeling well.
Nausea, fatigue, combined with early pregnancy, could absolutely contribute to the syncopal event. ”
Beau nods quickly. “Thank god. Okay. That makes sense. Wait—”
He freezes.
Lawson straightens.
Lincoln blinks.
And I feel like the room is spinning around me.
“Did—did you just—” Beau starts.
“P-pregnant?” Lawson finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “Abigail’s… pregnant?”
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
The doctor’s expression shifts immediately. “Oh. I—I’m assuming you weren’t aware?”
None of us answers.
I don’t think any of us can.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Her BhCG levels are consistent with approximately ten weeks gestation. We’ll have to do an ultrasound to be sure, but based on the hormone markers, she appears to be right around that mark.”
Ten weeks.
I quickly do the math in my head.
Christmas.
The doctor hesitates, then asks the question like he’s stepping onto thin ice. “And which—which one of you is the father?”
The four of us look at each other in shock and disbelief.
Law opens his mouth to answer, and then Abigail stirs.
Every thought in my head disappears as her eyes flutter open slowly, unfocused at first. “Abbie Girl,” I breathe.
We all move at once.
Lincoln brushes her hair back from her forehead, carefully avoiding the bruise. Beau grips the side rail like he needs something solid to hold onto. Lawson leans in close, protective instincts at an all time high.
“Hey,” I murmur, squeezing her hand. “Been waiting for you to wake up, pretty girl.”
Her gaze shifts between us, confusion giving way to awareness.
“Hospital?” she rasps.
“Yeah,” Lincoln says softly. “You took a bit of a fall.”
She frowns faintly. “K-Keller…”
“We will handle him later,” Lawson assures her quickly.
Her hand instinctively drifts to her stomach.
The movement is small.
But we all see it.
Emotion flickers across her face before the doctor clears his throat. “I’ll give you a moment,” he says before he practically runs out of the room.
“I was going to take a test tomorrow,” she whispers. “I only put two and two together when I felt sick at the party.”
Tears gather in her eyes as she looks between the four of us. “Are—are you… mad?”
Mad.
I let out a shaky laugh. “Abbie Girl…”
Lincoln leans down and presses his forehead to hers carefully. “Mad? There is no world that exists that we would be mad over the fact that you’re going to have our baby, Sweetheart.”
Lawson’s hand cups her cheek. “You’re really pregnant, Honey.”
A tear falls down her cheeks as she nods.
“We’re gonna be dads,” Beau adds, voice thick and laced with emotion.
There’s a baby.
Our baby.
I look at my three best friends. Each of our eyes is shining with unshed tears. Well, not Beau. His are definitely falling.
As the four of us look at one another, we don’t have to say it out loud.
It doesn’t matter whose DNA it is.
We all know.
This child is ours.
Every single one of ours.
I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “You’re carrying something we made together,” I tell her quietly. “Part of you. Part of us.”
Her tears fall more rapidly now, and Lawson’s hand falls to her belly. “I am.”
I can’t help it. I kiss her stomach next to Lawson’s hand, and I feel her take in a shaky breath as my lips linger for a moment.
“I’m sorry—I know this wasn’t the plan. With—with everything that was going on, I forgot to make an appointment to get another shot, and—and… I’m just sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize for giving us this, Red. This is the greatest gift you could have ever given us,” I whisper.
“Thank you,” Lincoln says, the two words we’re all thinking.
Outside the room, machines hum softly, the same tune day in and day out.
While inside our room… everything has changed.