Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(94)

I wanted to be along for the ride.

“What if—the stress of all this—” She sighed. “What if something happened?”

It was on our minds and neither of us would stop worrying. We might lie here, warm and quiet, but our minds were racing. Screaming what if.

Fuck it. I whipped off the covers, bouncing out of bed.

“What are you doing?” Bryce asked as I opened up a drawer in the walnut dresser in the bedroom.

“Let’s go to the doctor.”

“Now?”

“Now.” I took out a pair of jeans. “We gotta know.”

She was out of bed in a flash. “I don’t know if the hospital here will have the right equipment. It’s so early.”

“Then we’ll drive to Bozeman.” I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms. “Before the day is over, we’ll know.”

Rather than make her pull on the clothes she’d been wearing, I found a pair of sweats. The waistband was rolled to cinch them around her waist, the legs folded up so she wouldn’t walk on the hems. And then I pulled a T-shirt and my favorite Harley-Davidson black hoodie over her head.

“You’re beautiful.” Dressed in my clothes, her hair damp and limp, her eyes red and tired, she’d never looked better.

“I’m a wreck.”

I kissed her forehead. “Gorgeous. Ready?”

“No,” she confessed. “I don’t want bad news.”

“Me neither.” With our hands linked, I led her into the garage and to my truck.

She took one look at it and her shoulders relaxed. “Thank God. I need a break from your bike.”

I chuckled and loaded her into the passenger seat. She rolled her eyes as I buckled her seat belt but let me help her all the same. With the heat cranked up, I drove through town to the hospital. We marched right to the emergency room, and two hours later, Bryce and I were back in the truck.

I took her hand, pulling it across the console to kiss her knuckles. Then I stretched to cup her cheek, using my thumb to dry a tear falling from her beautiful eyes. “You good?”

“Yeah.” She sniffed, the tears still falling. Then she smiled, the relief and joy hitting me square in the chest. Sweet relief. “I mean, a lot could still go wrong but—”

“It won’t.”

They’d called in the OB/GYN for us, the doctor who delivered all the babies in Clifton Forge. First, he’d ordered a blood test. Then he had wheeled in a cart, covered a wand with a condom and done an ultrasound of her womb. From everything the doctor could see, there weren’t any risks to the pregnancy at the moment. We stuck around, waiting for the blood test. When he confirmed hormone levels were where they needed to be and they’d picked up a heartbeat on the ultrasound, we were sent home.

And yeah, shit could still go wrong. But I wasn’t going to think like that.

“I need to call my parents. I’m sure my dad is worried since I didn’t show up for Sunday delivery.”

“Want to just go to their house?”

“Not like this. I’m a mess and they’ll worry. Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure, babe.” I handed it over and let her call as we sat in the parking lot. She assured them she was fine and that she’d explain everything later. When the call ended, I pulled away from the hospital, driving to my house again.

“Should we go to the garage?” she asked. “I want to make sure Genevieve is okay.”

“Dad will come to my place. Let’s start there.”

“Okay.” She was so tired, her eyes drooped as we drove. But when we arrived home and there were three bikes in the driveway, she sat up straight.

I pulled into the garage and helped her inside where Dad, Leo and Emmett were already waiting in my living room. Leading Bryce to a couch, I sat down and put her right at my side.

“Did you get him?” Bryce asked before anyone else could speak.

Dad’s jaw clenched as he shook his head.

“Fucking bastard,” Leo hissed from the leather chair across from us. “We were close. Followed his trail right up past the cabin, but then he just disappeared. He had to know that area.”

“Goddamn it,” I growled as Bryce tensed. The last thing we needed was this guy still breathing. If he came after Bryce again, he wouldn’t find her alone.

“We split up and searched the area,” Emmett said. “Then hightailed it back to the road in case he got around us but then had to leave.”

“Why?”

“Fire.” Dad shook his head. “Fucker must have torched the cabin to cover his tracks. We saw smoke billowing up from the trees, knew we had to report it. We called it in to the forest service, then got the hell out of there before the authorities showed up.”

“And Genevieve?” Bryce asked. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know.” Dad shook his head. “When we got back to our bikes, Isaiah’s was already gone. Figured we’d find him at the garage but it’s empty. Tried calling him but he’s not answering.”

“What if the guy got her?” Bryce clutched my hand. “We have to find her.”

“Isaiah wouldn’t leave the mountain if he didn’t have her with him. He ran right after her.”