I noticed all of that as I ran to the front of the house and onto the porch, yelling Brenna’s name.

The house wasn’t disturbed. Everything was in its place, but I saw Brenna right away. She was facing away from me on the couch and flinched when I called her name, but she didn’t turn to look at me.

The back of the couch faced the front door, and I had to walk all the way around it to get to her. I was afraid to walk around the couch because she was so still. That didn’t slow me down though. Tommy Gun and Butcher were lifting Casper off the doorframe when I reached her, and at my moan, both heads shot up.

“Mama. Baby, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” I told her as I dropped to my knees in front of her.

If I didn’t know her…if I hadn’t kissed her good-bye this morning and traveled every inch of her body last night, she would have been completely unrecognizable. Her face was covered in blood, tears, and snot. It was swollen larger than I’d ever seen in my entire life. One side seemed to be worse than the other, and when I reached up to brush my hand against it, she made a noise like a wounded animal, but she didn’t move. God, there was blood all over her clothes, and I couldn’t figure out where it all came from.

“Baby, where are you bleeding?” I asked her, but she just stared at me, her green eyes dilated with pain and fear.

“POET!” I yelled for her Pop, but there was no need. He was standing right behind me, his fingers thrumming on his legs. “Get a towel out of the bathroom, would ya? Someone needs to call an ambulance!”

As he walked out of the room, I tried to find out where all of the blood on Brenna’s body was coming from. I spoke quietly to her, the entire room dissolving around us, as I checked her out. I was going to find out where she was hurt. I was going to fix it. I promised her. There was barely any blood on her legs, so I smoothed my hands up her torso. When I reached her ribs, she moaned, but I couldn’t find any cuts or wounds. I grabbed my knife out of my front pocket, and her eyes went wide.

“Always ready, just like a boy scout,” I told her with a wink, trying not to let the panic I felt show on my face.

I cut the front of her shirt open from the waist to her neck, and that was when I saw bruising on her ribs. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought I would find, but it was still pretty fuckin’ bad. She still wasn’t talking, but her hand had reached up and was resting on the side of my neck while she watched me.

“Okay, baby, I’m gonna have to lean you forward? How’s your back? Is it worse?” I asked her, and I knew it had to be.

Her body was too still. I was missing something. She started to say something, but when she did, she started choking, blood and spit pouring out of her mouth. Fuck. Her jaw had to be broken. I’d seen this before. I leaned her body forward gently, letting the blood drip from her mouth onto both of us, as I pulled the shirt down her arms.

I knew it. I knew they’d be there. Bruises the size of fists were spread all over her back. Before I could do anything more, Poet came back carrying a towel and something else in his fist. He set down the pregnancy test on the arm of the couch and stepped around behind me, speaking quietly to Brenna where her face showed above my right shoulder. His accent was so thick that I could barely understand what he was saying, but Brenna didn’t seem to have the same problem because I felt her body relax the longer he spoke. I couldn’t do anything but look at that positive pregnancy test sitting on the arm of the couch. Fuck. It might be over before it even really got started.

I was waiting on the ambulance with Brenna when we heard vehicles pulling into the front yard. She still hadn’t said a word, but her hand grasped mine tightly, never letting go for a second. It felt like we’d been waiting for hours, but it had to have been less than twenty minutes since Trix came running across the grass to me.

I wanted to clean Brenna’s face, but she made this keening noise any time anyone got near it, so I just left it how it was. I wasn’t a fuckin’ doctor; I couldn’t have done a whole lot anyway. In the back of my mind, I was aware of my need to kill Tony Richards, but most of me was completely caught up in Brenna and getting her some help. I was fuckin’ terrified that she was bleeding inside, that the fuckin’ paramedics wouldn’t get to her in time to help her. So, when I heard the vehicles outside, I gingerly leaned forward and slid my arms under her legs. She made a sound of protest, but we had to move her. She didn’t have a choice in that.

“Brenna. I’m gonna pick you up.”

She barely shook her head from side to side.

“Baby, we gotta get you outta here. I need you to wrap your arms around my neck, so I don’t have to touch your back. Okay? Grab a hold.”

And then, I lifted her up, a low moan coming out of her swollen mouth.

When I got outside, I was surprised to see four cops but no ambulance in sight.

“Daniel White?” the officer closest to me asked.

“Yeah, what’s this about?” I asked them, not sure what the fuck was going on but pissed as hell that they hadn’t brought a fucking ambulance with them. “Where the fuck are the paramedics?”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to put the woman down and walk down here with your hands above your head.”

It was then that I noticed all of the officers were eyeing the boys on the porch, especially Casper, who was lying near the rail using Tommy Gun’s cut as a pillow. All had their hands on their weapons though none had drawn on us.