Page 50 of Fierce Hearts

So they'd threatened Meredith, probably her entire circle here. I knew she had other friends through her work, but none were on the same level as Meredith.

"I care about you, Sof." I stepped closer, softening my voice. She looked so broken now, and it killed me inside. "More than you realize. I just want you safe and happy. Not tangled in this mess."

"That's not possible! I am caught in this mess, in this damn Hell!" Tears welled in her eyes. "You don't understand?—"

"Then help me understand! What the hell is happening, Sofia? In detail. We can figure it out. What are they holding over you?"

Her face contorted, and suddenly she doubled over, rushing to the kitchen sink where she violently threw up.

I moved to her side instantly, gathering her hair back from her face with one hand while rubbing her back with the other.

Was she sick as well? Or was all this stress too much for her? I'd never seen her break like this, to cry from something like this. She'd always been strong, helped Meredith, handled things that most people couldn't.

Whatever was going on, it was worse than I realized.

"It's okay," I murmured. "Just breathe."

When she finished, I grabbed a kitchen towel, dampened it, and gently wiped her face. She closed her eyes, drawing slow, deep breaths as she leaned on the counter. She looked so pale, so lost and broken. I hated this for her.

I filled a glass with water and handed it to her.

"Small sips," I instructed softly as I reached for a glass for myself. I had a feeling I'd need a drink to endure whatever we were about to discuss in order to figure this mess out.

She took the water with shaking hands, and my heart lurched as tears began to fall. She closed her eyes, fighting them as she rinsed her mouth out and then took a few sips of water. She let out a shaky breath as she set the glass down and looked up at me, her expression utterly broken, ripping my heart apart.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered.

I stared at her, the words repeating in my head, all the possible ways it could have happened spiraling through my mind.

Had a Ference…

Rage boiled through me at the thought, a desire to bury someone six feet under surfacing. The glass in my hand shattered, a shard slicing into my palm, and blood immediately welled from the wound.

"Did they…" I started, staring at my bleeding hand with a strange detachment.

Fuck, it was bleeding bad.

"God, no, not that. Gray, it's yours."

The room began to move. The sight of blood—my blood—pooling in my palm triggered something, something I'd thought had died when I'd had to spill blood that day we were all attacked by the Malatestas. My chest constricted, my breathing now shallow and rapid.

"Gray? Let's get that cleaned up." Sofia reached for my hand, but I was already sliding down to the floor, my back against the kitchen cabinets.

"Gray!" Sofia's voice seemed distant as black spots danced in my vision. My heart hammered in my chest, threatening to burst through my ribs. I stared at the blood coating my hand, trickling down my arm as glimpses of my father's face flashed through my mind.

So much blood. Blood I'd caused.

Sofia knelt in front of me, her hands on either side of my face. "Look at me, Gray. Focus on my eyes."

I tried, but the panic was overwhelming, crushing me from the inside as I struggled for air, gasping.

I barely noticed her shoving a hand towel into my hand and wrapping it around the bloody wound.

"Breathe with me," she instructed, her voice firm but gentle. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it."

She placed my good hand on her chest, letting me feel her steady heartbeat and the rhythm of her breathing. "Match me. In... and out."

I don't know how long we stayed like that—me on the floor, fighting through waves of panic while Sofia talked me through it. Eventually, my breathing steadied, the room stopped spinning, and I became aware of the dull throb in my hand.

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