Kirby Carter
Soft beeping, the hum of machines and whispered murmurs greet your ears as you blink awake beneath bright white fluorescent lights feeling like you've been put through the wringer..
The smell of disinfectant and lemon lingers in the air, that familiar hospital scent making you all kinds of uneasy.. "W-where am I?"
You rub your eyes, still adjusting to the lights as a stern faced, middle-aged man in a white coat leans over the bed.. "You're at the SPC medical centre, Miss Carter.. You suffered quite a severe syncope.. Were still running some tests, we will know more soon.."
"SPC?..What is that? How did I get here--?" You try to shake the strange, disoriented sensation that fogs your mind as you push up on your elbows to peer around the very expensive looking hospital room, your head pounding..
Your eyes scan the room for only a second before they land on him..
The Viking..
He stands five feet away, behind the Doctor, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.. Watching you like a hawk, his intense grey eyes locked with yours.. There is a trace of concern on his face, but he mostly just looks pissed off.. You have no idea why he would be so mad at you.. Maybe because you said you were leaving town and then didn't.. But then, why is he here?..
How did he find you?..
Or even more importantly, what the hell happened to you?!
Last thing you remember, Declan Darby was slipping a phone into your pocket.. Looking down you see that you no longer have that phone because your clothes have been replaced by a pale blue hospital gown..
Shit.. That's bad.. You need that phone..
"Viking? What is going on?.. What are you doing here?" You blink at him, confused..
He takes an apprehensive step closer to your bed.. "I found you, Duchess.. You were unconscious.."
You're about to ask the viking how he found you and a million other questions, when Patrick comes barrelling through the doorway, radiating pure rage, his muscles twitching and his teeth clenched..
O'connor points a finger straight at the viking, heading towards him.. "You're a real fuckin' prick, ya' know that Paxton?!"
The viking steps forward, holding up his hands as if trying to temper O'connor's fury.. It doesn't work.. "O'connor.. Now isn't the time for--"
Patrick winds up, punching the viking square in the jaw..
Ragnar doesn't fight back, instead he takes the hit, his head rolling to the side with the motion and like lightning Patrick tackles him to the ground, beating him with heavy fists..
Trollies filled with medical equipment go flying, the pieces clattering to the floor around them as they scuffle.. The viking defending his handsome face from taking the blows, but not fighting back otherwise.. Even now..
Everything moves so fast and in your haze you have no idea what is happening.. The commotion makes your headache throb harder and if you weren't stressed enough before..
This sure isn't helping..
"No.. Guys, stop it please.." Patrick doesn't stop, so you spring up from the bed.. "Patrick.. Patrick stop!.. O'CONNOR FUCKIN' STOP!"
At the sound your your very loud, very angry Irish accent, Patrick freezes, his fist hangs in mid air pulled back ready to strike, The Viking shields his face with his forearms.. But instead of continuing, O'connor turns to blink up at you, surprised..
You take a step closer and lean down to gently place a hand on Patrick's shoulder, like soothing a wild animal.. His eyes flare angrily before he grunts, shoving back from The Viking, huffing deep breaths to calm himself as he leans back on his haunches, glaring furiously at Ragnar..
"What the hell you guys?!" You drop to your knees beside The Viking as he sits up, rubbing his jaw where Patrick's right hook had made contact..
He's a little bloodied, but still as handsome as the moment you noticed him in that bar..
Your eyes wander over the cuts in his face, his reddened cheekbone and split lip.. He groans.. "I'm all good, Duchess.."
You reach out to run a hand through his hair, but halfway into the motion, Patrick's words catch up with you.. Your brain finally processing what O'connor had yelled, right as he burst through the door.. 'You're a real fuckin' prick, ya' know that Paxton!'
"Wait.. What did he call you?"
The viking winces, reaching out to take your hand.. "Kirby, I can explain.."
Hearing the name that you never told him on his lips confirms it..
Suddenly the nausea is back.. Tenfold!
Ragnar.. Your viking.. Is Hunter Paxton..
The same Hunter Paxton of the CIA who has chased you to every corner of the country..
He knew who you were.. The whole time..
This is what Patrick was trying to warn you about.. He's nothing like you had expected him to be.. But you should never had made those assumptions..
Holy hell, how could you be so blind..
So stupid..
"Oh..god.. I feel sick.." You jerk your hand out of his hold as you push up and quickly move away from him, sitting back on the bed, disbelief stunning you silent...
This is all too much..
A nurse sweeps into the room, she whispers to the doctor who turns to the men, clearly displeased with their ridiculous macho display.. You're kind of wondering why security hasn't been called on them yet..
"I'll have to ask you to wait outside gentlemen, I need to speak with Miss Carter regarding her results.." The doctor tries to take charge of the room as Patrick and Paxton both push up to their feet, guilty expressions on their faces..
"Kirby.. You alrite'?" Patrick winces..
You shake your head, never taking your eyes off Hunter Paxton..
And he never takes his off you..
You've never been so angry with somebody in all your life.. You feel completely and utterly betrayed.. How could he have done this to you?
You want to yell and scream at him.. You kind of want to punch him in his gorgeous face yourself! What a lying asshole!
"I don't.. I don't know.."
Everything feels spacey.. Otherworldly.. As though this is all some kind of dream..
Patrick crosses to the bedside and you finally peel your eyes from the viking to look at him.. The stress wearing on O'connor's face scares you.. His usual dimpled grin, replaced with a pained grimace.. "D'ya want me to stay?"
You nod.. Definitely.. You definitely want Patrick to stay.. He is the only person in this room you are certain you can trust.. Including yourself..
You might never trust yourself ever again..
Clearly you should be very wary of your own instincts.. Because it has become apparent that your instincts are terrible and can only lead to trouble..
The doctor nods, turning to look at Paxton who doesn't budge, folding his muscular arms across his chest.. "If O'connor is staying, then I'm staying.." He glares at the doctor defiantly..
You sigh and roll your eyes.. It really doesn't matter at this point.. He's going to arrest you either way so what does it matter if he knows you have a little stomach bug or food poisoning or whatever the heck is making you feel like garbage..
You make a hissing sound as you wave a hand at the doctor, motioning for him to ignore Paxton.. "Whatever.. Fine.."
The doctor looks over his charts apprehensively as he crosses to the end of your bed.. "Miss Carter.. All the test are looking good, and for the most part your blood work is clean, though, there are a few abnormalities we are looking into.. Nothing I'd be too concerned about just yet.."
You feel like you can't breathe you're so nervous..
Are you dying?
Why won't this doctor just spit it out?!
"So then, what happened to me?.."
He frowns, scratching his neck as he looks between Patrick and Paxton once again before turning back to you.. "I would say a combination of stress and your current state, would explain most of the symptoms you've been exhibiting.."
"What do you mean 'my current state'?
He nods solemnly.. "Yes, Miss.. It's very early days, but your blood tests have confirmed that you're definitely pregnant.."