I inhaled and exhaled several times as I padded across the living room to the wall of windows where Sam was standing and glancing out with his cell to his ear.
Before I reached him, he jerked his head at me, eyebrows pinched, fear in his green eyes.
Did something happen to Jordyn? My pulse went from eighty to one hundred and twenty in a flat second.
“I have to call you back,” Sam said to whoever he’d been talking to. “Layla, what’s wrong? Your heart rate is off the charts.” He helped me to the couch.
“I’m fine. Just feel weird. I need a minute. Is Jordyn okay?”
“You’re not fine. You’re pale. Do you need blood?” he asked, his voice bordering on panicky.
I swallowed the dryness, rubbing my throat. “Water.”
He flew into the kitchen and was handing me an uncapped bottle of water within seconds. “I’m calling Doc.”
I’d brought the bottle to my mouth when a sharp pain in my chest had me gasping. The bottle slipped out of my hands, and then Sam began to spin before me. I rubbed my chest, breathing in and out.
Sam’s voice began to fade as he talked to Doc.
Next thing I knew, I was in Sam’s arms.
“Layla,” he said. “Stay with me. I’m taking you to the infirmary.”
“The babies,” I managed to say, laboring for breath. “Save them.” The lights in the hallway began to flicker, then a swirling swath of blackness took me under.
33
SAM
Icarried Layla, trying like a motherfucker not to freak out. But as her heart rate began to slow, mine went through the roof. Thank fuck the infirmary was in the same building, only on the other side, which felt like ten thousand miles as my soul shattered with each step I took.
“Layla, baby doll—if you can hear me, hang in there.” My voice cracked on every word.
A huge fucking knot fisted in my stomach. A daggerlike feeling stabbed my heart, and I was dripping with sweat—or maybe those were tears rolling down my face.
The double doors loomed ahead, seemingly sliding farther and farther from me. I prayed like a motherfucker, asking whoever was listening to save Layla. The closer I got to the infirmary, the more her heart slowed. I wanted to scream, roar, and punch a wall.
You need to stay calm, man. Trust fate.
Fuck fate. All it had ever done was create chaos and pain.
“Layla, I love the fuck out of you. You cannot die on me.”
A high-pitched alarm shrieked through the hallway, echoing so loudly that my eardrums were about to burst.
Then a booming sound cut through the siren. I blinked as sweat seeped into my eyes, making the hallway ahead a bit blurred.
I could make out Doc pushing the stretcher through the double doors, running as fast as he could. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Is there a fire?” Doc asked.
I grunted out swear words left and right. If the alarm was a distraction for a surprise attack, I would murder the bastard responsible. Roman popped into my head. The fucker had a way of playing games.
I laid Layla on the stretcher. “Her heart. It’s weak.”
Doc didn’t seem surprised as he rolled her toward the infirmary. “Dr. Martin is on his way. The gates will be locked down. I need you to make sure he gets in.”
Several footsteps battered the floor behind us in the hall. “We’re here!” Jo shouted above the alarm. My sister would’ve made a great cheerleader, belting out cheers with her powerful vocal cords.
Three other women followed Jo.