Chapter 6 Saoirse
SAOIRSE
Huddling over my breakfast, I feel like I’ve aged ten years overnight from how the pain of my blossoming bruises refuses to ease. The thought of wolfing down my oatmeal turns my stomach so I end up pushing it around my bowl while my twin, Cian, hurries around me stuffing toast into his face.
“You should have called me,” Cian says between mouthfuls. “You shouldn’t be taking on shit like this yourself.”
“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself in a fight, Cian.”
“Are you? Because you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward.”
“My inability to sleep has nothing to do with the fight.” A lie. The pain in my ribs kept me up all night and there’s a continuous throbbing at the back of my skull from where my head collided with the van door. It throbs now almost in rhythm with my heartbeat.
“Are you sure?” Underneath his cocky smirk, there’s real concern in his eyes when he stops his pacing and leans down to my height. “Have you been to the doctor?”
“I don’t need a doctor. The guy didn’t even fight that well.”
“Do we know who he is?”
Cormac instructed me to keep my investigation quiet, which, as much as it pains me, includes keeping it from my twin. “Just some homeless loiterer. I think he was high or something.”
“Must have been, to get a shot on you,” Cian replies. He studies my face for a long, silent moment then nudges my shoulder as he smiles. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on the hospitals in case any homeless men turn up with Saoirse Gifford’s fists imprinted on them.”
“Fuck off.” I laugh, biting back a soft groan of pain. “Listen, I need you to make sure you call Ma.”
“I always do.”
“Yeah, but she’s back to quizzing me about my love life, so entertain her with your latest escapade to get her off my back.”
“You know, the easiest way to do that is to get out there and find a lover.”
“When do I have time for romance?”
“Could try Cormac’s method of falling in love with a hostage.”
“Imagine.” I snort, amused. “Please?”
“Fine. But you owe me.”
“Countless, yes I know.”
Cian presses a fleeting kiss to the top of my head as he passes. “I’m busy at the airport today, so don’t work too hard, Sis!”
“Take care.”
Cian leaves and silence descends in the kitchen.
This penthouse used to be full of life. All four of us lived and worked here and it was amazing.
Then, Brendan died and everything changed.
Not long after, Cormac moved out to live with Evelyn, and now it’s just Cian and me. That won’t last forever, either.
Rather than wallowing in the growing emptiness of the penthouse, I retreat to my office and dig up all the CCTV from the warehouse last night.
It doesn’t take long, and getting access to the surrounding CCTV is just as easy.
Unfortunately, several cameras up and down the street were on the fritz so the only clear angles I have of the stranger last night are the four in front of the warehouse and one at the end of the road on a traffic cam.
It’s several hours of footage but if I’m lucky, one of the cameras will have caught a clear view of that man’s face.
Several hours later, I’m no closer to finding out who he is and the pain in my stomach is growing like embers are flaring with every breath. Maybe Cian was right.
I need a doctor.
Reaching for my phone, I stand—and immediately, the world tilts. I have only a few seconds of panic before clouds of black sweep across my vision and I collapse to the floor.
“Where… where am I?” Cracking open one eye, I’m met with nauseatingly white walls, repetitive beeping, and the blurry yet smiling face of Cormac’s wife, Evelyn.
“Saoirse?”
“Evie?”
“Oh, thank God.” She laughs softly and clutches at my hand. “I was not looking forward to talking to Cian if you hadn’t woken up.”
“Fuck.” Pressing one hand to my eyes, I massage until a flurry of colors explodes across my eyelids. The last thing I remember, I was in my office, and now I’m…
“You’re in the hospital,” Evie says gently.
“Been here for about twenty minutes. I dropped by the penthouse to invite you out to lunch and found you passed out on the floor. Fuck, I was terrified I was walking in on another dead Gifford sibling.” Her nervous laughter is amused, but her worry is clear.
“What happened?” Lowering my hand, the hospital room comes into view and the fog fades from my mind as Evie talks.
“I’m not sure. They ran some tests while you were unconscious and one doctor ran a scan. Just waiting on the results, I think.” Evie clutches at my hand and while she’s smiling, her brow is pulled low with worry. “I was really scared.”
“I’m okay,” I assure her, tracking the line from my wrist to the morphine drip.
No wonder my pain feels dulled. “I skipped breakfast, didn’t sleep last night, had a rough evening.
” Shifting on the bed, I pull myself up into a seated position and give Evie the strongest smile I can muster.
“I bet it’s low blood sugar. This happens all the time. ”
She narrows her eyes. “I’ve never heard of you passing out like this before.”
“Well usually, I either catch it in time, or I wake up almost immediately and fix it. Honestly, I bet you anything that’s what the doctor says.”
Evie still doesn’t look like she believes me, but she pats the back of my hand. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to get you a soda, so I’ll be right back, okay?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I insist. Plus, Cormac is on his way and I don’t want him to think I don’t take care of you.”
“Evie, he’d never think that.”
“I know.” She laughs. “I’m just trying to guilt you into letting me take care of you. So stay put.” She squeezes my hand and quickly leaves the room. Silence descends once again.
Fuck. My low blood sugar excuse isn’t entirely a lie as it has happened before. It’s just not as common as I made out. Did something happen last night? Did that bastard hurt me more than I realized?
“Miss Gifford?” A soft knock at the door is followed by a doctor walking in with a chart in her hand and a gentle smile on her lips. “It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Hey, Doc. Just grand. Evie filled me in about your doing some tests while I was out?”
“Yes. Given Evie’s role here at the hospital, we were able to get you seen to swiftly. The perks of your sister-in-law being the owner.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Years of practice, I presume.
“Hit me, Doc. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed. You have some severe bruising on your kidney which will be giving you a lot of discomfort, so I’ll prescribe some painkillers to help with that, and I’ll ask that you monitor your urine output as bruised kidneys are much more prone to infection.”
“Shit, okay. Is that why I fainted?”
“No, dear, you fainted because your iron is extremely low. Have you been taking your prenatal vitamins?”
“My what now?”
She moves closer to the bed. “Your prenatal vitamins. It’s very important to take these regularly because pregnancy is a very intense strain on the body, and given your busy work life, you’ll need some extra help in ensuring your child gets all the nutrients it needs without draining you too much.”
The world falls out of my ass. I can hear my blood roaring past my ears, taste iron on the back of my tongue, and suddenly, even the blanket around my legs is too heavy. “There must be some mistake,” I say with a nervous, humorless laugh.
“In what way?” She gazes down at her notes, confused.
“I’m not… I’m not pregnant.”
“What?” Her head snaps back up and her eyes widen. “Oh, goodness, Saoirse, I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“You… you definitely are pregnant. We… it came back on the blood tests and the urine sample we took while we were looking into your kidney.”
“How did you get my piss?”
“A needle. It's a common procedure that we—”
“No, you’re wrong.”
“Saoirse, I’m not wrong. You’re pregnant. And your current lifestyle, plus the trauma of your injury and strain on your body, is why you fainted. I’m so sorry, I thought you knew.”
Pregnant.
How?
I know how.
But how?
The masked man from the closet. He’s the only man I’ve slept with in months. There’s no one else it could be, but I have no fucking clue who he is. This can’t be real.
“I have to go.” The doctor hovers around me as I pull the lines from my arm and stumble out of the bed while grabbing my things.
“I really wouldn’t advise that,” says the doctor. “We need to get your fluids up and you need to—Miss Gifford, wait!”
She calls after me, but I ignore her and hurry into the elevator as fast as I can.
It doesn’t move fast enough so when the doors open on the next floor, I rush out and take the stairs instead.
I have no destination in mind. I just need to get out of this building and away from the woman telling me there’s a baby growing inside me.
How?
A baby.
Inside me. Of all people.
Oh, my God, I’ve been drinking. Not heavily, but I’ve had several scotches and bottles of wine since that party. I’ve eaten shellfish too! This makes no sense.
By the time I get outside, my head is spinning. So many thoughts crash together about my investigation, the fight, the party, and the stunning news that I’m pregnant.
Me.
“Fuck,” I gasp as I stumble out onto the street and start walking in no particular direction.
What do I do? Who do I call? Should I find the father?
Yes.
Actually, that’s the first thought that makes any kind of sense in my sea of a thousand internal voices. Crossing the street, I spare barely any thought for Evie or the hospital I left behind, or even the painkillers I’ll need to go back and get.
The only thing on my mind is a baby.
Baby with a stranger. How fucking reckless can I be?
“Cian?”
“Saoirse! Are you okay? Cormac told me you collapsed.”
“I’m fine—”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not bullshitting, Cian, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“I need you to do something for me. It’s urgent.”
“Anything.”
“I need a list of everyone who was at the masquerade ball last month.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
“I’m on it. But… What is this about? Should you even be caring about this? I thought you were at the hospital.”
“Cian, please. Just do this for me.”
“Okay. Okay, I will. Love you.”
His words make me pause, and a sudden rush of heat warms behind my eyes. “I love you too. I’m okay. Promise.” He accepts my answer and hangs up, but I’m struck with the sudden urge to call him back and tell him the truth. If anyone can understand a reckless mistake, it’s him.
But I don’t get a chance to call him back.
My thumb hovers over the button but before I can press it, someone collides with my back and arms clamp firmly around my body.
I’m barely able to react before I’m dragged down the alley.