Page 81 of The Broken Keys

“Sir—”

“I said I’m fine!” My voice breaks and I point to Livianna. “Focus on her.”

The paramedic’s expression softens. “What’s her name?”

“Livianna. Livianna Hemings.”

She nods and rushes toward the car, talking to Livianna in a calm, steady voice. Another worker is trying to pry the door open with hydraulic tools. The fire truck crew joins them, bringing more equipment.

I step back, but I don’t go far. Just far enough to let them do their job. My eyes never leave Livianna’s face, pale and bloodied through the wreckage.

Her words echo in my head.The baby.

Is she pregnant? Is that what the panic attack was about? Is that why she’s been so scared?

And if she is pregnant, whose kid is it?

The question lands like a punch right between the eyes.

We haven’t slept together. Hell, we haven’t done anything more than kiss. Which means if she’s pregnant, it’s not mine.

It’s his. My King. Whoever the fuck that is.

“Fuck!” I spin away and grab hold of my hair.

The realization hits hard. I’ve lost her. I’ve lost the love of my life. The only woman I’ll ever love, I’ve lost her again.

That can’t matter right now. Livianna needs me. She needs some hope to get her through this. My heart thuds against my ribs as I turn and look on with devastation seeping out of every pore I have.

The paramedics finally get the door open with a screech of metal. They’re careful now as they stabilize her neck, check her vitals, and prepare to move her.

One of them is talking into a radio using some medical jargon I don’t understand. I watch it all happen like I’m outside my body. It’s like this is happening to someone else.

The woman I love is being extracted from a crushed car with blood on her face and a baby… Someone else’s child is growing inside her belly.

They lift her onto a backboard and secure her with precision. Her eyes are still closed. She’s limp, but still.

“Is she...?” I can’t finish the question.

The kind-eyed paramedic addresses me. “She’s stable for now. Are you family?”

“I’m…” What am I? Her ex? Her maybe-boyfriend? The guy who’s been desperately trying to win her back while she’s apparently pregnant with another man’s kid? “I’m the closest thing she’s got right now.”

“You can meet us at the hospital.” She tells me which one.

They load her into the ambulance. The doors close, and the vehicle pulls away with its lights flashing and sirens wailing.

I’m alone in the middle of the road with a crowd of strangers, a totaled car, and a thousand questions I don’t have answers to.

I raise my chin to the sky. Golden light rays filter through scattered clouds.

“For once,” I whisper, “be on my side and save her. I’ll do anything you want if you let her live. Just please don’t take her away from me.”

Somewhere in the distance, the sirens fade.

A police officer approaches me, clipboard in hand. “Sir, I need to get your statement about what happened.”

I stare at him, my brain still struggling to catch up with reality. “Statement?”