We Paid The Price (sequel to RPAP)

Chapter Thirteen

*Note: This may seem random, but in case I haven't mentioned it before, Lizzie and Mark's last name is Michaels.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

~Tamara Rose

Once again, I was in the hospital. This was--what--the third time in two months?

Sigh.

This time, I sat in the waiting room instead of with the patients. After Mark had seen Lizzie pass out, Jordan and Josh had come back from their run just in time to see Mark grab her and bolt out the door. Then they saw Eric on the ground and rushed straight into action, grabbing him and hoisting him onto his wheelchair and out the door as well.

Once we'd reached the hospital, the doctors had dragged basically half the hospital staff over when they saw a limp Eric being rolled in on his wheelchair, and a slumped Lizzie in Mark's arms. Lizzie was rushed into immediate surgery, and I have no idea  where they rolled Eric to, but he was hooked up to so many machines that just looking at him made me wanna throw up.

As if he could sense my thoughts, Josh wrapped and arm around me, rubbing my shoulder. I leaned into him, turning my face against his chest in order to quiet my sobs.

"Lizzie might die," I whispered, my breath hitching and my words coming out choked up.

"Don't say that," Josh said through his teeth. Unconsciously, his grip tightened ever so slightly on my arm. "She's going to be fine."

"It's not just her I'm worried about," Mark suddenly muttered.

I looked up in surprise. Jordan and Mark were sitting across from Josh and I.

Jordan had his head between his knees and was breathing deeply, trying hard to control his anger so that he wouldn't shift right there in the hospital waiting room. Meanwhile, Mark had been gazing blankly out the window since we'd arrived. If he hadn't spoken soon, I wouldn't have started getting really worried.

At his comment, however, I was confused. "What? Who else would you be worried about?" I paused. "Oh. Eric."

"Considering you were the one who threw him against a fucking wall, you'd think you wouldn't care that much about his well-being," Jordan muttered.

Mark gave him a death glare. "Do you know what he fucking did? He tried to take advantage of Tamara Rose."

"So your ever so genius response was to slam him--the fucking cripple--against a fucking wall?" Jordan's voice rose several octaves, the fury behind it so enraged his eyes were sparking with fire.

"He was out of line!" Mark yelled, his eyes shifting into a sharp black color. "And you are, too! My wife and my child are on their fucking death beds right now, and if you keep using that tone of voice with me, you'll be joining them!"

The room fell silent.

"Lizzie's pregnant?" I whispered, my voice cracking.

Mark closed his eyes, his face pale as a sheet. "She was. The doctors say right now there's a slim chance of the baby surviving."

"Oh my god," I gasped, a shuddering sob making the word incomprehensible.

"Sh. It's alright. Everything's going to be fine." Josh's vain attempt to comfort me by striking my hair and whispering soothing reassurances was made useless by the face that his own dark gaze promised he knew it wasn't going to be alright.

"This is all Eric's fault," Jordan sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He didn't seem mad or upset anymore. He just sounded tired. "He could have had any girl in the world. He could have waited for his mate, like any normal wolf. Instead, he decided to go for a girl whose basically his fucking sister." At the last word his, his lips curled into a disgusted snarl. "He's the reason Lizzie's here--"