“We’ll stay close,” the officer says as he places his hand on my back. It takes everything in me to go with him, moving away from Sven. All I want to do is lie down next to him, to absorb his pain, to make him better. Reaching down, I grab his hand, squeezing gently, feeling his fingers tighten on mine before releasing. Moving back with the cop, I watch the paramedics and firefighters swarm, blocking him from view.

“Let’s get him in the ambulance,” I hear an EMT say, and I feel my world falling out from under my feet.

“Can I go with him in the ambulance?” I ask the officer at my side as my arms wrap tighter around my waist, trying to hold myself together.

“I’ll find out for you. If not, I’ll take you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper shakily then look toward the front door of the club. My skin prickles as I watch Zack, Teo, and Lane make their way toward me. Each looking worried and seriously pissed off.

“Maggie,” Zack says, and a fresh wave of tears fills my eyes and I move quickly in his direction.

“Sven,” I choke out on a sob, and his arms wrap around me.

“I’m so fucking sorry. We were talking to the cops inside when we heard the shots start. They wouldn’t let us out ‘til now.”

“He got shot,” I tell him, pulling away and moving my hands over my cheeks in a jerky movement. “Who would do that? Who would shoot at us?” I ask, panting, and his eyes move over my face.

“Can you ride with Sven in the ambulance, or do you need a ride to the hospital?” Lane asks, cutting in, and my eyes turn to meet his.

“I…I don’t know. A…an officer was going to find out,” I stutter out, noticing my body has started to tremble.

“Miss, I’m going to take you to the hospital. There’s no room in the ambulance.”

“I’ll take her,” Zack says, and I look at him then to the cop, and I know I have a much better chance of getting to the hospital quickly if I’m in a cop car.

“I’m go…going t-to—” Placing my hand to my stomach when a sharp pain hits me, my eyes try to focus, but blackness seeps in around the edge of my vision until I see nothing.

Hearing low murmurs, I wonder who Sven’s talking to as I fight to the surface of consciousness. Blinking my eyes open, I know I’m missing something; something’s not right. Then everything comes back to me, every detail.

“Sven,” I breathe, tossing the cover over me back as I groggily attempt to sit up.

“MoonPie!” my mom cries, rushing to my side and holding me down.

“Where’s Sven?” I ask frantically, and my dad moves to my other side and places his hand against my chest.

“Stay down. Sven’s okay,” Dad says, and I look at him and search his face, seeing a deep sadness in his eyes.

“I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.” I lift my hand and notice an IV line then look down and see I’m in a hospital gown.

“You’ll see him. The doctor should be back in soon. Until then, you’re going to lay down.”

Feeling confused and lightheaded, I ask softly, “Why would I need a doctor?”

“Oh, MoonPie,” Mom whimpers, and my eyes fly to hers.

“What’s going on?” I question, seeing tears in her eyes.

“You were pregnant,” Dad says, and my head swings in his direction.

“What?” I whisper as my hands move to rest over my abdomen, and now that it’s been brought to my attention, I notice a slight pain there and can feel some kind of gauze or something under my gown.

“Mom,” I whisper as she settles herself at my side near my hip and runs her hands down my hair like she used to do when I was little.

“It was a ectopic pregnancy. Your tube ruptured and they had to rush you into surgery. We got a call from a guy named Zack, and he told us Sven was in surgery as well and that we needed to get here.” She presses her lips together and more tears gather in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the pillow as a feeling of loss washes over me. I didn’t even know I was pregnant, didn’t even have any inkling, but knowing I was and knowing I’m not anymore, my heart hurts.

“I need Sven,” I whisper, hearing my mom sob.

“You’ll be able to see him soon enough. He’s being taken off the ICU floor as we speak and should be here with you soon.”

“Promise me he’s okay.” I open my eyes, pinning my dad in place.

“Promise. He’s tough. He’s more worried about you than he is about himself.”

He would be; he was probably worried out of his mind. “Does he know about the baby?” I ask, and for the first time in my life, I watch my dad’s eyes glitter with tears.

“I had to tell him. He was causing a scene, thought they were just keeping you from him. No one would give him any answers.”

Closing my eyes, pain cuts through me, and I pull in a ragged breath, feeling my bottom lip wobble.

“He told them that he wants to be moved in here with you, tossed around a few names, names of men I only know because everyone knows them, and they agreed to it,” he says, and a silent tear slides down my cheek.

*

“HAS SHE WOKEN?” I hear Sven ask, and my eyes fly open seeing Sven in a bed next to mine. As I try to sit up, my dad puts his hand against my chest as my eyes lock on Sven’s.

“Easy,” Dad says gently.

“The doctor said I can get up,” I remind him softly, looking up at him.

When the doctor came in to talk to me, he told me it was okay for me to move around as long as I didn’t do anything strenuous. I had gotten up and gone to the bathroom on my own with only minor pain in my abdomen. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t in pain. My heart hurt badly. The doctor explained I was approximately six weeks pregnant and that the baby was growing inside of my left fallopian tube, which ruptured. The surgery they performed—removing my left tube completely—left me with only one, which he explained would make conceiving in the future a little more difficult, but not impossible.

“Baby.”

That one word has me coming out of my thoughts and my dad’s hand moving to my elbow to help me up. Gaining my feet, I walk slowly across the space separating me from Sven, our eyes never leaving the other. “Fuck, baby.” He reaches out to me with his left hand when I’m close.

“Please, be careful.” I take his hand in mine and pull it up to rest against my chest.

“Come here,” he demands softly, sliding his hand around my back, pulling me closer, proving that not even a bullet wound will stop his bossy ways.

“We’re gonna step out for awhile,” my dad says from behind me, but I don’t turn to look at him or my mom as I hear them moving around or when the door closes a few seconds later.

“I was so scared,” I whisper after a long moment of my eyes taking him in and the various machines he’s hooked up to.

“I need to hold you. Climb up here with me.” He scoots over, and I know I should protest, but I need his touch right now. I need to be in his arms, where I feel safe, where the world outside of us doesn’t exist. Being cautious of the IV in his hand, I get onto the bed with him and tuck myself into his side. “Please don’t cry,” he whispers, and I move my hands over my face, feeling wet on my fingers when I do. “I’m so sorry baby, so fucking sorry,” he says, and I know he’s not talking about getting shot, but about the baby.