"I killed our baby!" I sobbed, lifting my head lightly to hit it back against the pillow again. "I killed our baby!" The doctor nervously stood up, pressing a button on the wall. He muttered a few words but I could only catch him saying 'unstable'. It made me cry even harder. I was supposed to be okay, I was supposed to feel better, but this was just too much. It was a never ending roller coaster full of problems, emotions and issues. Even I was getting bored and sick of it.

"Peyton, relax- Just-" Asher began but soon gave up, considering he was trying to speak over my sobbing.

My heart was broken, my heart hurt. Everything on the inside of me hurt. I didn't have answers but I needed answers. I was full of questions and regret, guilt and pain. I was irresponsible for getting pregnant, for carrying a child I didn't know was developing in me until I'd realized I wasn't hung over for two days but that it was morning sickness. I was that deep in the pregnancy. It was overwhelming and Asher's touch didn't seem to help this time. I hadn't seen Evan's open, wild eyes in 4 months, but it felt like years. I cried for Evan too, and how much I missed him, and how much I wanted and prayed for him to be okay.

"Oh God I killed our baby," I whispered, my voice cracking at the end, making me flinch; and all I wanted at this time was Evan. Clueless, quiet Evan.

I wanted his big dark eyes, looking at me in confusion, before they transformed into understanding, and care. His eyes never lied. I've seen him hide behind those eyes, but I could always read them. I wanted to touch him, his tattoo, the tattoo that kept me going everyday. I wanted to feel his lips, their warmth and comfort, something I felt like I'd never gotten. I wanted to feel him, physcially and mentally- even emotionally but I knew I couldn't get him. I wanted the 110 percent attention he gave me and only me. The bad boy that saved my life, and who became a different, soft guy in the process. The one who smoked cigarettes, banged more girls than I could count, who never spoke of his past nor ever tried to bring it up, the boy who was good at sports, the boy who I spilled a smoothie on and the boy who asked me if I could kiss as fast as I could run- even though that never made sense- it always made me giggle. Cocky, full of smirks, hot body and skin so soft that you'd melt at his touch, your body heating up in ways you could never imagine.

Gosh, I was truly a heart broken mess.

I was tired, and my eyes stung as tears aimlessly poured from them. Asher didn't move, only caressed me until I'd stopped wailing. I was so confused and dizzy. I could barely remember how I'd gotten here.

Something was moving from the corner of my eye, footsteps were loud against the floor and nurses in blue scrubs flew past my vision. Asher and I turned our heads around, looking out the open door. Nurses were running somewhere- something was happening. I was here, sobbing and being ungrateful for what I did have right before me, yet these nurses were probably running to save someone's life.

These nurses were good people. I hope they helped whoever they were running too- all the many of them. I noticed my doctor was out in the hallway, speaking to a nurse who had been in my room a few hours earlier.

My line of sight following the nurses running past my door was interrupted by the bold, loud Veronica, her red hair frightening me momentarily. She looked wary, as if she'd been running for hours. She bent over, hands heavy over her knees, before walking towards me and Asher. Asher stood up, sighing, as Veronica rubbed my tangled hair. I felt like a ditzy, half dead patient, my eyesight blurred, my hearing barely audible to whoever was in the room, my skin probably as pale and blotchy as ever.

"Hey you," she muttered calmly, before suddenly speaking harshly. "Gosh girl you're tiring!"

I blinked twice, staring into her light eyes. I hadn't heard that in a while. "Where have you been?"

Bad Boys Aren't Forever (SEQUEL to The Bad Boy Saved My Life) #Wattys2016Read this story for FREE!