Page 79 of No First Kisses

“Good.” Dean shrugs. “You can do it. Let’s go. The plan is, we get there, kill Ortega before he hurts my girl, and then get her home.”

Angelo slides the van back onto the road but there’s something there.

Just up ahead.

“Stop the van.” The order leaves my lips when I see the flash of bright blue on the side of the road. “Stop the fucking van.” The roar leaves my lips when Angelo doesn’t slow down fast enough.

I’m out the door before anyone else, running back to the sweater I know belongs to her. Hell, I asked her why she was wearing it during the summer. But it is one of the only things that fit her, and she stole it from me during high school.

“Poppy.” Her name is nothing more than a silent plea on my lips when I pull her body into my arms, ignoring the blood.

“Find him,” I tell the men at my back as Dean and Sam come tearing up to my side. “Find him. And make sure he’s either dead or close to it before I get my hands on him.”

Poppy’s eyes are closed, and I can’t see her chest moving.

I can’t do this.

“Not again.” I close my eyes, praying to a god that I’m not sure I believe in. “Please, not again.”

I pull the sweater away to find her bleeding from a shallow wound on her stomach, but her chest is moving.

She’s alive.

“I broke a promise, Lo.” Her whisper breaks me. “It hurts so bad and I’m so sorry.”

She shatters me with her words, and there is no one but her to pick up the pieces.

“You didn’t break any promise,” I tell her, crying and unashamed of it. “You kept it. You’re alive. You’re safe.”

“Think I killed him,” she mutters. “But broke… promise.” Her body tightens, and I watch the pain flash across her eyes. “Ahhh,” she screams until it passes a few moments later. “Baby.”

“Pressure on the wound,” Remy orders. “Put pressure on it, and let’s get her the fuck out of here.”

Trucks and bikes stop. All of them, men who came to help find her, and I don’t care.

“He’s at the camp,” Poppy says hoarsely. “Only made it a little bit before the pain.”

The men who stop continue on, Dean leading the way.

I don’t care about anyone but the woman in my arms. The baby she carries. Our son. Everything and everyone else can rot as far as I’m concerned. I hope Ortega is dead. Not for the pain it will cause Poppy for taking a life, but because she’ll be safe from him.

I lift her up, and her eyes snap open. More alert than they should be.

“Don’t you fucking drop me.” The venom in her voice surprises me. “I’m in fucking labor and that asshole stabbed me. I’m not going to let you drop me, too.”

“Did you drop her or something?” Remy asks from my side, breaking the tension in the air. “She’s irrationally afraid of you dropping her and that only comes from someone being dropped.”

“No,” Poppy bites at him. “Back the fuck away, Remington Townsend. You’re not seeing my lady bits. That’s not happening. I’ll die before you see my vagina.”

The back door to the van is open, and Niles sits there with his tablet by his side and med bag in hand. “Did she say she’s in labor?”

“You’re not having him now,” I tell her. “You’ll make it to the hospital. We’ve got time.”

Niles eyes her stomach, whistling when he sees how deep the wound is under her shirt. “I’m surprised she made it as far as she did with this. Your woman’s a badass, Pierce.”

“Lo.” Poppy’s eyes are dropping. “I don’t feel good.”

When she faints in my arms, I’m doing my best not to lose it. I barely manage to hold on because I can feel the steady, if horrifyingly slow, beat of her heart in her chest.

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