He darted across the driveway and up the steps of the porch into the entryway. He turned and waved to her, then disappeared inside.
“Cole, I love you. Come back to me,” she shouted as the sirens’ wails grew louder. “To us. I’m pregnant.”
Searing pain rippled through her abdomen. Feeling a sticky wetness between her legs, she doubled over and fell to her knees.
She was losing their baby.
Glass shattered, and flames shot out of the den’s window, the fire spreading to the roof.
The ground tipped under her, and she toppled over, cracking her head on the pavement.
She’d lost everyone.
There was nothing left for her now.
She cried for Cole as the darkness stole her sight.
Chapter Thirty-Four
COLE LAY IN a hospital bed, all sorts of wires and tubes connected to him. Danielle sat in a hard chair beside him, the beeping of the monitor lulling her into a trance, her eyelids growing heavy as she continued to watch Cole’s chest rise and fall. She knew it was irrational, but she worried if she left him, something bad would happen. She couldn’t lose him.
The staff and her friends had all tried to get her to get some rest, but she’d refused, her butt glued to that chair by his side since her examination with the doctor. Eventually, they’d accepted there was nothing they could do to get her to leave, short of arresting her.
It had been forty-eight hours since the fire. He’d suffered from smoke inhalation and some second-degree burns, but he’d passed the critical stage, and the doctors felt confident that he was healing well. So why hadn’t he woken up yet?
“Danielle,” Gracie said, handing her a cup of coffee, “you need to get some rest. Why don’t you—”
“No.” Without looking away from Cole, she took the drink from her friend. “I have to be here when he wakes up. He’ll need me.” She took a cautious sip. “How’s Roman?”
“He’s worried about you.”
“Me? He’s the one recovering from bullet wounds, third-degree burns, and smoke inhalation. He’s the one whose mother tried to kill him.”
She still couldn’t believe Tasha had been responsible for everything. What kind of woman would shoot her own child?
Danielle wanted to be there to comfort Roman, but as hard as she tried to convince herself to go down the hall and see him, she couldn’t. Not until Cole opened his eyes and she made certain he knew about the baby.
Even if Cole didn’t want her and his child, she needed him to know how she felt. He deserved to know how much she loved him and that out of their love, they’d created a life.
Gracie dragged a chair next to Danielle and plopped herself down. “At least he’s allowing the hospital staff to take care of him. Since you saw the doctor a couple of days ago and received the IV for rehydration, you haven’t done a single thing to take care of yourself. You need to eat something and get some rest.”
“I can’t leave him, Gracie,” she said hoarsely, tears blurring her vision. She rubbed her eyes. “What if I leave and something happens to him? What if I have one chance to tell him how much I love him and I miss it?”
“How much do you love me?” she heard Cole whisper.
She blinked away the tears to see Cole had opened his eyes. “Cole!” She jumped up from the chair and leaned over him. “I love you. I love you so much I could spend every second of every day telling you I love you, and it still wouldn’t come close to the amount of love I feel for you.” She caressed his cheek with her trembling fingers. “You’re awake.”
“What happened?” he asked, his brows furrowed.
“You ran back into the burning house and carried Roman out. You’re a hero.”
Gracie stood. “He’s recovering a few rooms down from here. I’m going to go tell him you’re awake and that Danielle will be visiting him soon.”
Needing to be closer to Cole, Danielle lowered the side rail and sat on the edge of the bed. “From my phone, I e-mailed Agent Miller the file I found. He’s going to work with Interpol on it. And he told me that thanks to Logan, they were able to locate and seize the money Rinaldi had wired. They’re still working on identifying the owner of the accounts, but I’m guessing they’ll match the names in my father’s file. I told Agent Miller that once they no longer require the fifty million as evidence, they should donate it to a research and treatment association for the visually impaired.”
He placed his hand on her thigh. “I remember something. You were shouting to me as I went inside for Roman. I could’ve sworn you said something about a baby. Danielle, are you pregnant?”