Lost consciousness. Trouble breathing. Oxygen deprivation. He wanted to hit someone. The guy in front of him looked good.
Matt gave a quick glance toward the Chatty Cathy nurse. Shit. Not even there anymore. He could hop over the counter. Ask the computer.
“She’s been here over twenty-four hours,” William said.
Direct hit. Score one for the doctor.
“I’ve been here the whole time. She’s been well taken care of.”
Matt just bet he’d taken good care of her. And would no doubt like to continue. He stepped close. “Let me make this real clear, in case I didn’t before. Abby is not yours. She will never be yours. Because she’s mine.”
The asshole took a small step back. Yeah, you better back off.
Vance stepped closer, as if to remind Matt he was there and, per his brother’s orders, babysitting him.
“Room number,” Matt growled. He was one second away from using some SEAL tactics to get the info he needed.
“Her doctor said she could go home today,” William said. “If she has someone to take—”
“She does.”
“Thank you,” said Vance, the voice of reason. “Do you happen to know what room?”
Speak up, asshole. Before I kill you.
“You didn’t have to be so damn nice,” Matt said, striding down the hall, feet pounding like his heart.
He scanned the doors for numbers, pausing when he reached Abby’s. He blew out a breath. Be calm.
Without knocking, he opened the door and saw her lying on white sheets, her face turned toward him. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted. A white strip of bandage wrapped around her forehead. Was she pale?
He took a step forward on shaky legs. Her eyes opened and he could see the bright brilliance that always shook him. Or maybe he was just shaking.
“Matt.”
Before she could utter another word he was there, cupping her face in one hand, his other covering her belly. She was warm. Check. Breathing. Check.
“I’m okay.”
Vance cleared his throat. “Uh, I’ll just wait outside.”
Matt ignored him and tried to cool the burn in his gut as he sat on the edge of her bed. Even though he felt her stomach hard and round beneath his palm, he had to ask. “The baby?”
She smiled, though her lips trembled. “Fine. I hit my head. That’s all.”
“What happened?” With his hand not quite steady, he brushed the hair back from her forehead, the knot evident and infuriating. “Somebody hit you? Were they drunk? Do they know—”
“Matt.”
He was gathering steam, more than happy to have anger replace fear.
“It was an accident. I don’t need you to be angry. I just need you.”
Whether it was the wreck, the emotion of saying the words, or both, Abby’s eyes filled and so did his. He gathered her into his arms and held her as close as he could. The clutch of her hands at his back emphasized her words. She needed him.
“It’s okay.” He tightened his hold, not saying how terrified he’d been. Not telling her how he’d played it out in his mind a thousand different ways. Picturing her alone, calling for help. Thinking what if she’d been hurt worse. What if the kids had been hurt. What if they’d had to take the baby early and he hadn’t been here.
“The kids?”
“Are with the babysitter.”
“I’ll get them.”
She nodded into his shoulder, and he smoothed her tangled hair, slowly easing her back against the pillows. His heart nearly stopped at the look in her red eyes and tear-stained face. And he was reminded of the pain caused not by a stranger and a car but by his own careless words.
“Abby.” He took her hand between both of his and brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry. What I said to you—”
“No.”
Had he really lost her? He wouldn’t accept that. “Abby, I tried to call you, and when I couldn’t get you…” He shook his head. “I lost my mind, smashed my phone. I called. I left messages—”
“I know. I heard them.”
“Well, then you know it was wrong. I was wrong.”
“No,” she said again, shaking her head. “I do push. I push people away, before they—” She broke off, and a single tear escaped and ran into her hair. “I don’t want to push you away.”
“You could never push that hard, baby. Never.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then her eyes, where he tasted hot tears, then her lips.
“I do need you. So much,” she said on a shaky breath. “My heart hurts from it…like all the air is sucked out of my lungs and…”
“Shh. It’s okay.” His own eyes burned because he knew the feeling so well.