Unrestricted

by K. A. Berg

  I can’t wait to get home and fall asleep, and I can’t get to my car fast enough after my shift. It’s freezing even for February, and I really need a new coat. This one is getting way too snug in the belly area.

  It’s bar policy Colby, our ‘bouncer’, walk all us girls to our cars at the end of our shifts at night, but I’m too tired to wait for him. Even so, I don’t get two steps out the back door before I hear him calling after me.

  “Ashley, stop your fine ass there right now!” he yells from across the parking lot as he jogs toward me. He’s always making comments about me being a MILF. Me a MILF? I find it completely hilarious—almost as hilarious as watching him slide about the parking lot, trying to avoid the icy patches on his dash over to me. It looks as though he’s doing some weird dance as he skips and hops around them.

  “Well then, move your big, scary ass a little faster,” I yell back. Colby’s a scary-looking dude. You would never know by looking at him that he’s the biggest softy ever. Not many men who are six-foot-five and about two-hundred-ninety-pounds seem cuddly. Colby’s biceps are bigger around than my thighs, which we know for sure because we measured them once on a slow night for shits and giggles.

  “Ashley Mama, you know you can’t come out here at this hour alone—especially after a night like this one,” he says in an exasperated, winded tone. “You’re no match for all the drunken idiots who see your baby mama hotness and want to try a piece for themselves.”

  “Yeah, all the guys are tripping over themselves to get a piece of this.” I roll my eyes at him, waving a hand over my bump.

  “They are, and we don’t need some drunken asshole not taking no for an answer. So, from now on, please wait for me,” Colby admonishes, grabbing my arm and escorting me the rest of the way to my car.

  I sigh. “I’m tired, Colbs. I just want to go home and go to bed.”

  “Okay, next time, just come get me and tell me you’re ready, and I’ll get you to your car immediately. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I agree, unlocking my door.

  “Okay. Drive safely, and I’ll see you next shift, Mama.” He smiles as he opens the door of my ancient Honda for me.

  I’ve been thinking about getting a remote starter for this piece of crap so I don’t have to freeze my ass off waiting for it warm up. I’m starting to hate the cold, and I can definitely see why people move south. There’s nothing appealing about scraping ice off your windows or sitting your ass down on a frozen seat.

  As I pull out of the parking lot, I’m surprised to find the roads empty. I would’ve thought lots of people would still be out. The game did end almost two hours ago, but still… My mind wanders to thoughts of my warm bed as the light I’m stopped at turns green. Just as I push down on the gas pedal, the car behind me beeps loudly, his horn an endless wail. I look around, trying to see what the reason for his beeping is since I’m already moving. When I look to the left, I see a pair of bright lights coming at me. I brace myself in the little time I have. As I slam on the breaks, I throw one arm over my growing tummy in a last-ditch effort to protect my baby. Hold on, little one. Please hold on!

  Pain. All I register is pain. I can’t move, I can barely breathe, and what little oxygen I manage to suck in smells like sulfur. I can taste it. My eyes won’t open, and there’s an awful ringing in my ears that’s making my head throb. I think I hear voices over the ringing, but they sound as though they’re miles away and underwater. I don’t understand anything they are saying. My hazy brain only recognizes a few words and they don’t make sense.

  “You…Okay…Move…Help…Coming…”

  I try to pull myself together and figure out what’s going on, but as I struggle to speak, I realize my words aren’t making sense either.

  “Help,” is the one word I think I manage to get out clearly, but I can’t even be sure.

  “Don’t move,” a voice says when I try to lift my arm to the warm liquid dripping on my face. Those words come through at least, and it seems as though the blur is starting to clear. Then I remember my precious little boy.

  “Baby...” Please God, let my baby be okay. “Baby….” Everything in my field of vision blurs again as I attempt to move, needing to get out of this car. I need to help my baby.

  “Stop...moving,” Oh no! The voice fades again as the pain registering all over my body swells once more. “Help…coming…what…. baby?” The voice asks.

  “Pregnant.” I’m certain I’ve gotten the word out clearly before the searing pain takes over, and I can’t hold on to consciousness any longer. It hurts too much. The banging in my head, the stabbing pain in one of my arms, and the lack of feeling in my legs make it impossible to stay awake.

  Please hold on, little one, and know Mommy loves you no matter what… so much. The black takes over. Nothing hurts once it’s black.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex

  I still can’t believe the team’s done it. It’s not that I hadn’t believed they could, but holy shit! We’ve just won the Super Bowl. Granted, I’ve never played a down in a single game, but being a team trainer and a main PT makes me a member of the team regardless.

  The smile Tag has on right now is the biggest I’ve ever seen. It’s awesome to see him smile after how hard these past two months have been for him. Watching your best friend beg repeatedly for redemption is never easy, even when he deserves what he got in the first place. The poor dickhead’s been completely consumed with regret and remorse, and it’s been painful to watch. Seeing him this lit up is nice for a change.

  The club the guys have picked for the after-party has a tropical beach theme—palm trees, surf boards, beach balls, and white Christmas lights are everywhere. Oddly, the combination works. The place is packed, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less in Miami. Everyone says New York is the city that never sleeps, but after partying it up here, I have to disagree. I love New York, but I don’t think the nightlife there compares to Miami’s at all.

  A huge crowd has formed around the team, and they’re eating up the attention, enjoying the accolades of a big win. Good for them. It’s taken a lot of hard work for all of them to get here, and they deserve to celebrate like rock stars. Knowing most of them have someone waiting on them at home, I hope the guys don’t fall into bed with any of the star struck beauties swarming like bees to honey.

  My phone starts vibrating in my pocket once again. It hasn’t stopped ringing for the last five minutes. Someone must be dying to get a hold of me. Jesus Christ, my team just won the Super Bowl! We’re celebrating. What asshole thinks I’m going to answer the phone right now? I’ve called everyone important tonight already.

  I pull my phone out just to check who’s so determined. It could very well just be a fuck-ton of text messages. I swipe the screen, and my phone lights up to reveal I have four missed calls from Quinn. Having talked to her earlier, I have no clue what could be so important she’s blowing up my phone. Before I have the chance to consider whether I should call her back now or wait until later, my phone buzzes again. What the hell?

  I pick up. “Quinn, baby, this isn’t the best time. It’s really loud in here. Can I call you back?”

  “You…you…need to get Tanner and come quick,” she sobs out —and I mean sobs.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?” Panic rises inside me. It’s obvious something’s very wrong.

  “It’s Ash. It’s… it’s... bad, Alex. Real bad.” She’s hysterical, and her words are almost impossible to understand.

  I scan the crowd looking for Tag, and it doesn’t take me long to spot him.

  “Quinn, I need you to calm down and tell me what’s going on. Can you do that for me, baby? Take a deep breath.” If she can’t pull herself together, there’s no way I’ll be able to understand what the fuck is happening. It’s already hard enough to hear her over the din of the club.

  “It was a drunk driver. He… he blindsided her.” She hiccups. “I don’t know much else. Right now, she’s unconscious and
has some broken bones, probably internal bleeding too. The guy who was driving behind her followed the ambulance to the hospital. He said they had to cut her out of the car, Alex. CUT HER OUT!” she screams.

  It takes her a second to regain her composure and continue. “The impact was on the driver’s side. They aren’t telling me much and I don’t understand doctor talk.” She starts to cry again but holds herself together enough to tell me, “The guy from the car behind her also said she came around for a minute after the accident, just long enough to tell him she was pregnant.”

  “We’re on our way. Hang tight, baby,” I tell her before I end the call and head toward my best friend. I really don’t want to be the one to wipe the luminous smile off his face. I was happy to see it there a few minutes ago, and I have a feeling it’ll be a long time before I see another one in its place.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tanner

  I see Alex heading toward me with a look of devastation on his face, which I can’t comprehend. With this huge party going on all around us, it’s almost impossible to be having a bad time. My backup quarterback did a body shot off some bar girl. According to him, it’s the only way for him to get some action since he doesn’t get any on the field. I almost choked on my own shot when he yelled it out! Who knew the kid had a sense of humor? The entire offensive line is currently singing “We are the Champions,” which I wish I was recording. Things couldn’t possibly get any better at the moment. Alex should be ecstatic, not looking like his puppy has just died.

  “Hey, buddy! Wipe that frown off your face. We won! Let’s celebrate!” I shout, holding a bottle of champagne out toward him.

  “Umm, sorry, but I really need to talk to you, Tag,” he says, his eyes shifting nervously. They dart around the room as though he’s looking for an escape route.

  “Right now, asshole? I just had the game of my life. I don’t want to talk right now. I want to celebrate. Now smile and drink with me.” Alex is always down for a party, what the fuck is his problem?

  He grits his teeth at me. “Listen, no one wants to see you celebrate more than me, trust me. But right now, you need to come with me so I can tell you something. This isn’t the place, and we need to talk now!” he says with an attitude as bad as if I’d just pissed in his Cheerios or something.

  “What the fuck could possibly be so important right now?” I throw my hands up into the air to bring his attention to the huge party going around us. Can’t I have five minutes of fun with no drama? Is it too much to fucking ask for?

  “Ashley,” he answers, and everything except Alex and his words fades away. The music goes silent. The people disappear. My attention is focused solely on Alex and whatever he has to say.

  “What about her, Alex?” What in the world could be going on that Ashley is what he wants to talk about right after the Super Bowl?

  “Let’s take it outside,” he says, turning toward the front of the club and heading to the exit. He’s left me no room to argue. My only choice is to follow.

  “We’re outside,” I say as soon as we’ve stepped through the front entrance. “What the hell is going on?”

  “There’s been an accident,” he says calmly, not taking his eyes off me for a second.

  “What?” My stomach sinks, and the buzz I’d been enjoying a few minutes earlier is completely gone, replaced by fear. Whatever he’s about to say can’t be good.

  “There’s been an accident, and Quinn says we need to get on a plane right now.”

  It feels as though the floor has been pulled out from under me. “How bad?”

  “Really bad,” he answers with a look telling me he would rather be doing anything else right now than relaying this information to me.

  “Like alive bad or dead bad?” Please let her be alive. Please.

  “Like alive-for-now bad.”

  “We need to go now. How far is the nearest airport, Alex? What are we waiting for? We need to get moving.” I need to get to New Jersey. I need to be there for her. My whole body has gone numb but is somehow buzzing with energy at the same. I need to get to her—it’s the only thought running through my head. I. Need. To. Get. To. Ashley. Those six words are the only ones that exist. My body is moving, I think, but can’t make any headway. None of the parts of my body are working together right now.

  “Tag, stop pacing. Chill for just a minute. You’re not helping right now,” Alex yells, slamming his hand down on my shoulders to hold me in place.

  “Chill? I can’t chill,” I scream. “We need to fucking go.”

  “You need to slow your roll for a second. Get your shit together. We can’t get a damn thing in order with you acting like a fucking lunatic. I know you’re scared, but give me a minute to form a plan, please. I need you to calm down for just a few minutes.”

  Calm, he says? Calm? That’s the last thing I could possibly be right now.

  I have no idea how Alex has pulled it off, nor do I

  really give a shit, but when he comes back out of the club with our wide receiver, Darren, he tells me we’re heading to a private airstrip. I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here and get to my girl and my baby.

  Alex isn’t getting any more information out of Quinn before we take off, but she’s said she’ll email updates if there are any. There haven’t been yet… It’s pure torture.

  My mind hasn’t slowed down since Alex told me about the accident. What on Earth was Ashley doing out so late? Why did that drunk fuck have to hit her? Of all people, why Ashley? Hasn’t she been given enough shit to last a lifetime? What if she doesn’t make it? What if the baby doesn’t make it? Oh God, the baby!

  “Tag, you need to breathe, buddy,” Alex says, coming over to sit next to me as soon as the pilot tells us we’re free to move around the cabin. “We have no idea how bad things are yet. I’m sure when we get there, they’ll have her stabilized and everything will be fine.”

  I give him a look that says something between “Are you fucking kidding?” and “Do you really believe the shit that you just said?”

  Alex seems to understand my glare immediately and says, “I don’t know what to think, but I have to hope, man. I have to believe everything will be okay when we get there.”

  “And what if it’s not?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Do you not remember what Quinn said? They had to use the Jaws of Life, man. When has that ever resulted in everything being okay? I can’t lose either one of them.” I’m on the verge of tears. “I just can’t.”

  “Just try to stay positive. That’s all you can do for right now,” Daren says from his chair across from us. I’d totally forgotten he was here. I should probably thank him for leaving early and letting us catch a ride with him on his flight home, but I can’t focus on him right now.

  “He’s right, Tag,” Alex chimes in.

  I shake my head, thinking about how much I’ve really fucked everything up. “She should have never even been in Jersey today, Alex. She should have been in Miami with us. She would’ve been if I wasn’t such an asshole. Anything happens to either one of them, it’s on me, man. It’s all on me.”

  “Tanner, it was an accident. It’s not your fault at all. It’s the fault of the asshole who got behind the wheel drunk.”

  “You can tell me that all you want, but we both know the truth, man. If she had been with us, she would be perfectly fine right now. Why wasn’t she with us, Alex? Me—that’s why. Because I was such a blind bastard.”

  Alex continues to argue his point, but his reasoning falls on deaf ears. He can keep on until he’s blue in the face; I know this is my fault. And if something happens to either one of them, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.

  Arriving at the hospital does nothing to calm my nerves. If anything, it makes them worse. The sun is rising, and it feels like judgment day. Going into the building might rip my world apart, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it. I’ve spent the twenty-minute drive from the airport to the hospital terrified of what I would find when
we got here. The time had gone faster than I’d expected, not giving me much time to steel myself—unlike the three-hour flight that felt like a year. It’s been over four hours since we found out about Ashley’s accident, but it already feels like a lifetime ago.

  “Come on, buddy. We need to head in. Quinn needs us, and we have to find out what’s going on,” Alex says, ushering me through the revolving door into the emergency department. Alex stops at the reception desk to ask where we need to go. As the desk clerk is giving him directions, his phone rings.

  “Hey, baby, we’re here. Okay… okay… We’ll be there in two minutes. Ask him to hold off just a second, okay?” Alex hangs up, turning to grab my arm and pull me down the corridor I’m assuming, based on the signs, leads to the ICU.

  “The doctor just came out to give an update on Ashley, and they’re asking for the baby’s father. We need to move it.”

  Those words snap me out of my trance, and I pick up the pace, forcing Alex to do the same. If they’re asking for the baby’s father, that has to be a good sign, right? I know it could mean anything, but I’m hoping—praying—it means everything is okay with both of them.

  We round the corner into a larger waiting room where we find Quinn. She’s hard to miss as she paces in circles, her face splotchy and eyes swollen. It takes Alex less than a second to rush to her side and wrap his arms around her—like I wish I could do for Ashley, but Lord knows where or how she is in this godforsaken place.

  When the doctor appears, Quinn informs him I’m the baby’s father, and we all wait to hear what news he has.

  “First of all, Ashley has sustained many severe injuries.”