Page 135 of Anchor
He found the heartbeat.Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh…“Baby’s still ticking,” he muttered. “Claire’s going into shock.”
Technicians arrived with a board and stretcher.
“Pat, let’s get her onto the transport board. Once she’s on the stretcher, elevate the bottom of the board. Seth, start another line, 500 of saline, open wide.”
Patrick moved fast, lifting Claire’s legs onto a rolled blanket while Seth hung the bag of IV fluid. Tuck adjusted the angle of her hips, taping the Doppler in the area of the heartbeat. The staccato of the baby’s heartbeat was reassuring.
Reid didn’t speak. He just held her hand. The world felt like it was falling apart again, but this time, they weren’t alone. They’d never be alone again.
Tuck glanced up. “She’s unstable, but the blood loss is slowing down. We won’t know how bad this is until I’ve done afull scan. Hopefully, the uterus isn’t contracting. Let’s get her to the med suite.”
Reid nodded, jaw clenched. He leaned down, brushing her forehead with his lips, voice rough but steady. “You hold the line, Claire. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers curled faintly around his.
FORTY-FIVE
MATERNITY MONITORING ROOM – 1300 HOURS
The lights were low, just the way she liked them. Tuck had dimmed the panels himself. Claire remained unconscious, propped at a gentle incline on the monitoring bed. A thin oxygen line ran beneath her nose, her skin still pale, the blood pressure cuff on her arm inflating with slow, mechanical hisses every fifteen minutes.
Reid sat beside her, one hand gently laced with hers, the other pressed flat to her belly. He could feel the faintest shifts like a whisper of life still trying to speak beneath the skin. A belt ran across her, holding a monitor in place that measured the heartbeat and contractions.
Tuck stood at the foot of the bed, sonogram wand in one hand, gently pressing against the gel-slicked surface over her lower abdomen. Patrick hovered nearby, meds flowing into the IV being logged on a tablet at his side.
“Anterior placenta.” Tuck studied the grainy image on the screen. “The placenta is still covering the cervix. But there’s no sign of a major separation, which is good news. There is a smallpocket of blood between the placenta and the wall of the uterus, which is most likely what caused the bleeding earlier.”
“Can you treat it?” Reid asked, voice low, rough.
Tuck didn’t look away from the screen. “We are treating it.”
Patrick chimed in, “IV fluids and a magnesium sulfate bolus to relax the uterus and prevent contractions. Adding tranexamic acid to slow further bleeding.”
Reid swallowed hard. He didn’t know the drugs, not all of them, but he heard what they meant.Stop the bleeding. Keep the baby inside.
Tuck finally looked at him. “She’s stable, but this was a warning shot. No more walking the building. If she so much as dreams about overextending herself, you call me.”
Reid nodded once. “Got it.” But his voice caught. He looked at the tight lines on her face, the shadows beneath her eyes, and the curve of her hand over her belly even while unconscious. And for the first time, he understood what it meant. What she carried not just in her body, but in her mind. The burden, the silence. The waiting.
He’d been under, fighting for his life in the dark. But she had stayed awake through all of it. His hand moved up, brushing hair from her temple. She didn’t stir, but her fingers shifted slightly in his. “I should’ve told her sooner.”
Tuck just finished the scan, gently wiped away the gel, and covered her abdomen with the sheet and blanket. “We’re keeping her here at least tonight. We will bolus with steroids. No unnecessary movement, and no secrets.”
Reid nodded again, gaze still locked on her. “She held me through the coma. Now I hold her.” He leaned closer and whispered, forehead to hers, “I’m right beside you.”
The door clicked closedbehind them, a soft sound belying what had just happened inside.
Reid stood with his back to the wall, arms crossed tight, watching through the hallway window as Claire slept, her face still too pale, a halo of wires and soft blankets around her.
Tuck stood next to him. Patrick leaned against the far end of the corridor, hands in his pockets, but his expression was carved in granite. No one spoke for a long moment.
Then Tuck exhaled. “She’s tough, but this isn’t a fight she can brute-force her way through.”
Reid nodded once. “I know.”
“She can’t keep running point on this Vos shit,” Patrick added bluntly. “Not while she’s carrying a baby, bleeding, and refusing rest.”
Reid kept his eyes on the woman inside the room. “She wouldn’t stop if I begged.”
