Garrett kept pace, holding as much of her body out of the water as he could. As they neared the shore, Donovan waded out and reached for the woman.
Sam waved him off and curled his arms underneath her, lifting her from the water as he stood in the shallow depths. It was ridiculous, but he was gripped by the necessity to see to her himself. He didn’t want anyone else touching her.
His nape prickled and the hairs stood up as he laid her on the ground. The first thing he noticed was the bruises around her slim neck. Someone had done their damndest to choke her.
The second thing he saw was the obvious bullet wound in her arm. Blood still seeped from the jagged crease.
The third thing? His gaze drifted down her body, and he froze as he met with the tiny swollen mound of her belly.
“Holy f**k,” he breathed. “She’s pregnant!”
“I’ll call an ambulance,” Garrett said.
The woman stirred at Garrett’s voice, and Sam reached up to wipe the hair from her eyes.
All the breath left his body as her eyelids fluttered open and their eyes met. He took stock—took full stock of her face—and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.
God, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He was leaning over her, staring down at her; his mind registered who she was, but it didn’t make sense to him.
“Sophie,” he rasped out.
Her eyes widened in recognition just as fear slammed hard into those big blue eyes of hers.
“Sam.”
It came out a hoarse whisper and dissolved into a cough. Once she started, she couldn’t stop, and her entire body convulsed as she coughed water from her lungs. Her moan of pain hit him hard in the chest and jolted him out of his fog.
And then the next wave of what-the-fuck hit him so hard he nearly lost his balance.
Sophie was pregnant.
He and Sophie had been together just five months ago.
She certainly didn’t look beyond five months pregnant.
In fact she looked exactly that far along.
She was hurt. Someone had shot her. Someone had tried to kill her.
She was pregnant.
“No,” she said fiercely.
“No what?”
“No ambulance. Promise me.”
She grabbed his arm with surprising strength. Her eyes were wild, and he doubted she had a clue where she was, who she was or the danger both she and her child were in.
“You need a hospital,” he soothed. Hell, he needed a hospital. Or a stiff drink. What the hell was she doing here? Where the hell had she been for the last five months?
Pregnant. Sweet Jesus, was the baby his? His tongue felt thick and swollen in his mouth. He couldn’t form the words, and he doubted she’d understand them anyway.
His hand automatically went to her arm, where the wound had started to bleed again. Her blood was warm against her cold skin, and he pressed as hard as he dared, not wanting to hurt her more.
She raised her head, and her eyes, glazed with pain, sparked with determination.
“No hospital. No police. Promise me. Promise me.”
The desperation in her voice got to him. An uneasy sensation crawled down his spine. His gut told him this was a clusterfuck beyond all clusterfucks.
He glanced up at Garrett, who was staring at him and Sophie with a deep scowl of concentration. No doubt he wanted to know what the hell was going on. That made two of them.
“Don’t call the ambulance,” Sam said and turned to look up at Donovan, his hand still clamped over the bullet wound. “Get inside, find bandages, a med kit, anything you can dig up.”
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Garrett exploded. “She’s been hurt. She’s been shot. And she’s pregnant.”
Sam swallowed and looked down at Sophie’s eyes that were now closed.
“Garrett, please do as I asked. I know this woman.”
“Who the hell is she?”
He stared both his brothers down. “She’s mine.”
CHAPTER 5
COLD. She was freezing. And she was having hallucinations. Sam. She’d seen Sam. But he wasn’t here. She didn’t know where he was. Only that there was a man who looked an awful lot like him standing over her with an expression of horror on his face. Sam wouldn’t be that horrified to see her, would he? He didn’t know the truth. Yet. No, it definitely wasn’t Sam.
Then a warm blanket surrounded her, and strong arms lifted her up. She settled against a hard chest, those arms still tight around her.
Sophie opened her eyes and glanced up to see a hard jawline. Strong. Firm. With just a hint of stubble, as though he’d been too lazy to shave that morning. It was damn sexy.
Her gaze wandered upward, and then his head moved and his eyes met hers. Blue. Pale blue, like ice. Just like Sam’s eyes. Was she still dreaming? If she was, she wanted to just go along with it. It was a nice dream.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re back.”
Back? Where the hell had she been? Her brow crinkled in confusion. “Have I been here before?” she asked. For that matter how had she gotten here? Everything was so fuzzy. She felt funny. Not herself at all. She was having a hard time remembering the smallest of details. It frustrated her because there was something important she had to do.
He shook his head. “No.”
“But you said I was back, as if I’d been here before.”
He gave her a worried look and picked up his pace. “I meant that you were back. Conscious. You regained consciousness briefly when I pulled you out of the water, but then you passed out again.”