“What did you want?”
“More power, more turf, and a permanent alliance with Garofalo’s outfit, even if we killed him, would have guaranteed that. It was a long shot, but the Twisted Bastards have been gaining power for some time. They could be a problem for us.”
“So you did have a reason for the alliance.”
“I did. It’s over now though. You’re free. I knew you’d do anything for the club, and well, Abriana seemed like a nice girl.”
“I’m not giving her back, Smokey.”
Silence met his words. He didn’t look away from his wife. She looked too pale. His wife would never be a looker, but she was his, and he liked that.
He’d fucked up big time with her, and now … the baby? Fuck, his chest felt so tight just thinking about seeing her on the mattress where she’d been dumped, blood coating her jeans as she struggled to keep the pain at bay. They’d made her lose the baby, beaten her so fucking badly.
The elevator doors opened down the long corridor.
“How is she?”
Ugly Beast looked to see Raven being pushed by Hunter toward them. The brothers had kept a vigil in the main reception while he stayed with Abriana.
He didn’t know how far gone she was, and if she would willingly risk ending her life. There’s no way he could let her do that. Just thinking of finding her dead scared him. After everything he’d experienced, the last ten hours had been the most harrowing of his life.
Raven gasped as she got a look at Abriana.
“Oh, my.”
“She’ll be fine,” he said. “I’ll make sure she will make a full recovery.”
“She … was pregnant?” Raven asked.
“I told her,” Hunter said.
“Yes, she was. She’s not anymore.” He clenched his teeth together, breaking inside, shattering. Every time he said it, the reality hit him even harder. Never had he imagined he’d be a father. Looking at him, he should never father a child, and yet, he had, only for it to be taken from the both of them.
Raven grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not my body.”
“No, but it’s your kid too. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”
No one mentioned how she wanted to die.
The elevator doors opened again, and Ugly Beast growled as he saw Sebastian Drago step off.
“You’re not fucking welcome here. Get the fuck out of here, now!” He didn’t care how he was drawing attention from the staff and other patients. There is no way in hell he would ever let any of those bastards near his woman again. He would murder every single one of them.
He got the pleasure out of killing Garofalo, but not Vigo, and not the prospect who thought he could infiltrate them. That little shit had been dead when they hit the junkyard last night.
Garofalo and Vigo had men all around the junkyard, which was why it took him so long to get to his woman, to get her to the hospital.
Drago held his hands up. “I’m not here to make waves. I assure you.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” Ugly Beast wanted to rip his throat out.
“I’ve come here hoping for peace, and also for you to listen to reason.”
“You’ve got to go,” Smokey said.
“You’re Garofalo’s only heir.”
Ugly Beast grabbed Drago and slammed him up against the wall. In the distance he heard someone scream for security. It wasn’t going to work. His men would deal with anyone who tried to stop him.
“Umberto Garofalo is dead. He died a long time ago. When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”
“You’re the boss, Umberto. You can take his place.”
“I’ve got my place. My name is Ugly Beast, and I’m not a Garofalo, never have been, never will be.” He let Drago go, turning to Smokey. “Make sure he leaves.”
His president was already on it, and Hunter was escorting Raven away. With no one to keep him away, he entered his wife’s private room, sat down in the chair beside her, and watched her.
She looked so peaceful in sleep.
All he wanted to do was hold her and let her know it was going to be okay.
The minutes passed, turning into hours. Nighttime fell, and still, he kept watch over her. It was lunchtime the following day before she finally woke up, and she did so with a whimper.
She turned her head, left and right, then back again before her gaze landed on him.
Neither of them spoke, but he watched as she put her hands on her stomach. “Is it really gone?”
“Yes.”
She sobbed, and he moved from the chair to the bed. He tried to hold her the best way he could without hurting her. She was covered in bruises. They had strapped up her hand, and put a cast on her ankle. For a long time after she got out of the hospital, she’d need more care. He didn’t mind taking care of her.