As I head to the hospital, I think back to the night this happened to me. Why had I been so reckless? Better yet, why the hell didn’t I just run for the hills at first glance?
Because, I’m a stupid idiot who wanted one night with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life. Dark hair and looking sexy as sin walking into the bar I’d started working at because the owner of the tattoo shop decided to close and move to another area.
I can’t blame him for wanting to move somewhere else. He’d offered to let me come along but I wasn’t able to. I was constantly under the always lurking eyes of my brother and his men. The owner at least let me keep my apartment above the tattoo shop until the day my brother found out about my deceit toward him.
I’d been planning to run away. To start over, but he’d found out after one of his men caught me without my hoodie on to cover my stomach. I was lucky he didn’t cause me to lose my baby from the beating I received. However, I’ll never look the same due to the scars he’d given me.
By the time I make it to the hospital I’m panting for breath due to the sobs. I can’t go back to them and leave my baby. I don’t even know what I’m having. I’d been so scared to see a doctor at first, because I didn’t want Mason to find out. Then when he did, he refused to let me out of his house.
I open the door to my car and make my way to the ER entrance, hoping they’ll be able to help me. With all the pressure I’m feeling, I highly doubt I’ll make it any further.
“Can I help yo . . .” a nurse starts but stops and rushes toward me grabbing a wheelchair. “What’s your name, hun?”
“Milley.” I groan.
“Let’s get you to the back. Do you know how far apart your contractions are?”
“They’re close,” I whimper as she helps me into the chair.
“Okay, just hang on, hun, and we’ll get you help. My name's Tinsley,” she says sweetly, before rushing us to the doors, as she swipes her ID over the lock and starts yelling orders. Several other nurses join us as Tinsley stops in one of the trauma rooms.
“Call Dr. Miller down here,” Tinsley demands as her and another nurse help me out of the chair and onto the gurney, the entire time I’m whimpering in pain as another contraction hits along with the need to push.
“Please, help. I don’t wanna lose my baby,” I sob.
“Hun, we’re gonna take good care of you. I promise. Is there anyone you want me to call? The baby’s father? A sibling?”
“No. God, no. Please don’t call anyone.” I cry, shaking my head.
“Alright, Milley. I’m gonna check to see how far along you are, okay?” At my nod, Tinsley lifts the bottom of the dress I’d been wearing. “Monica, go tell the doctor to get in here, Dr. Miller isn’t going to make it down in time.”
My head is spinning, and I feel myself about to pass out from exhaustion.
“Milley, look at me,” Tinsley commands. Meeting her gaze at the bottom of the bed, I can see her determination. “On your next contraction, I want you to bare down and push.”
With the help of two other nurses holding my legs, on the next contraction, I push.
“That’s it, keep pushing, the baby’s head is right there.” Tinsley says with encouragement.
I continued at Tinsley’s instruction through two more contractions. “I can’t do it anymore,” I cry.
“Yes, you can, Milley. Give me one more really big push and you’ll be holding this baby in your arms,” Tinsley states as the curtain to the area opens and two doctors come in.
“The baby’s head is out,” Tinsley declares without looking at either of the doctors.
“Alright, let’s see about getting this baby born,” one of the doctors states with a grin while moving into the place where Tinsley was. “On the next contraction give us a nice, big push.”
Tinsley moves to stand next to me and grabs my hand. “You got this,” she whispers, stroking my hair. I don’t know who she is, but right now she’s my guardian angel.
Even though I'm exhausted, I nod my head and on the next contraction, I push as hard as I can.
A moment later, a small form is placed on my chest whimpering rather than screaming out crying. Glancing down, my heart fills with so many emotions but my head begins to grow heavy.
“Cody,” I murmur before everything goes dark.
Chapter Two
Milley
Groaning, I feel miserable as I try to open my eyes. It takes a moment for my eyelids to work like they’re supposed to but it’s not working.
Running a hand over my stomach, panic starts to take over as I remember yesterday’s events.
“I see you're waking up,” a woman’s voice says softly.
Forcing my eyelids open, I focus on the woman to see it’s Tinsley, the nurse who helped me when I first walked into the hospital.
“My baby,” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.
“He’s okay, Milley. They have Cody in the nursery right now. How are you feeling?” A boy. Oh my God I have a son.
Cody?
How did Tinsley know this is the name I’d chosen for my son? Then it hit me, I’d said his name right before I’d passed out from sheer exhaustion.
“I feel horrible and weak. I need to see my son.” My heart is racing in my chest, I swear it was going to burst out onto the floor.
Standing up, Tinsley presses a button on the side of my bed. “Someone will be in here in a moment.”
“Thank you. What are you doing in here anyway?” I ask, not meaning to sound bitchy.
“Well, I wanted to make sure you were okay. After you passed out, I was concerned so I clocked out early saying you were my sister and came in to sit with you. I didn’t want you to be alone. You seemed so scared, not wanting to call anyone.” The tears that welled in my eyes now poured down my cheeks. No one, besides Rachel, has ever cared this much about whether or not I was okay.
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry,” Tinsley says.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” I murmur, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off my face.
Before either of us can say anything else, a nurse comes in smiling. She checks my vitals and asks me how I’m doing. A moment later she leaves the room and says she’d have one of the nurses in the nursery bring my baby out.
“So not to pry, but do you have anywhere to go when they discharge you?” At her question, I wince.
“Umm, no. Not really. I was told that when I came back, I wasn’t to have my son with me,” I whisper, quietly. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I feel as if I can trust her.
“What do you mean?” her brow furrows.
I open my mouth to answer but close it when there’s a knock on the door before it opens. An older woman comes with a cart that has a clear bassinet type thing. Inside it is a small little bundle with my son’s head peeking out.
“Good evening and congratulations on this beautiful baby. If you don’t mind, can I see the bands on your wrist to make sure they match the ones on this little guy?” she asks, stepping toward the bed.
“Sure,” I murmur, not taking my gaze from my son.