Page 100 of Captive Vows
It didn’t matter. So long as I was here and could breathe, they were not getting to the woman I loved.
“I can’t,” Gabriella said, her voice weak and trailing off. “I just can’t.”
“One more push,” the nurse said. “You can do this. You can.”
The sound of her in agony broke my heart. But I couldn’t take this from her. I couldn’t spare her this pain.
More men came, and Alexsei joined me in shooting them back.
“One, two, three,” the nurse counted sternly, a no-nonsense woman who would be rewarded for her bravery not to flee like all the others had with this ambush and attack. “Now, push!”
Gabriella growled, straining, but I couldn’t turn back and hold her. I couldn’t be there to take her hand and let her squeeze it as she bore down.
That last hit I’d taken was bleeding too damn quickly. My energy waned. Staggering to stay standing, I blinked again and warded off this lightheadedness.
I’d come in here in such a rush, fueled by adrenaline and the bloodlust to kill anyone who targeted Gabriella, that I was running on fumes now.
Still, these assholes tried to get to her. Too many Dubinins blocked the way now. Casualties lined the floor, both theirs and ours, but the tide was turning. More of my loyal men were holding back the gunmen. As the screams, shouts, and rapports of gunfire ceased, my soldiers chased the Cartel members out of the building.
But then another sound reached my ears.
A beautiful cry.
The result of tiny lungs wailing loudly.
Again and again, the baby cried.
Perhaps he or she wasn’t too happy about the chaos that heralded this moment.
Turning slowly, knowing the men would have my back, I lowered my gun and sought out my love on the floor.
It was too much of a spin, too fast. I blinked again, unable to stand. Dropping to one knee, I gave up the fight to be upright.
“Gabriella…”
Tears streaked her face. Sweat matted her hair down.
As she smiled and cradled our child against her chest, I swore my heart swelled so much and burst from the deepest love I never could’ve imagined feeling.
Love wasn’t a joke.
While I crawled toward her, damning my injuries for threatening me to pass out, I knew that love was a miracle. A salvation.
“Gabriella…” I whispered it again, in awe. I couldn’t tear my stare away from them. Mother and child. The mother ofmychild. The woman I would love until I no longer breathed.
“You…” I huffed a weak laugh, working on reaching them. “You did it.”
“Wedid it,” Gabriella corrected, giving me a weak smile.
The nurse kept working on cleaning up and tending to the afterbirth, not getting in my way. But she was watchful of me, too. “Easy, sir. You’re bleeding.”
“Fuck that.” Ten seconds ago, I’d been in a fight to the end, not caring if I died to protect Gabriella and this baby.
Hearing Gabriella call us a team, partners, made me damn near ready to cry myself.
So grateful she’d come into my life, and so proud of her to stay strong no matter what happened, I reached her and the baby.
“A son,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion, too.
