Page 82 of Mercy
I’m still blushing when he comes back out and winks at me.
He hands our tickets to the usher, and he takes us to our seats, all the way in the front row, center. We sit down and I glare at him.
“You have spent entirely too much money on me tonight.”
Locking his fingers with mine, he stares at me with a heated gaze, “Baby girl, you are worth every cent.”
I probably look really stupid with how much smiling I’ve done tonight, but it’s really been a magical night that I never expected.
A man comes to the stage, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Black Cash recording artist, Cheyanne Cash!”
She comes on stage, and I say in Liam’s ear, “Wow! She’s really pregnant. I hope she doesn’t have that baby tonight.”
He laughs, “She is about ready to pop.”
Everybody is standing, so I stand, guessing that is what I’m supposed to do. Liam pulls me into his arms, my back to his front, and we sway to the music.
I’m amazed at how good she is performing live. Her voice sounds as perfect as it does on her CD.
During a break between songs, she grabs a stool and sits down. Liam says, “Something is wrong. She’s pale, something is wrong.”
Just then she grabs her stomach as she falls to the stage floor. It all seems to happen in slow motion, I don’t know this woman, but my heart breaks for her. I hope that she and her baby will be okay.
A gorgeous dark-haired man runs on the stage yelling, “Cheyanne! No! I NEED A DOCTOR! IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?”
Liam steps forward, “I’m a doctor.”
“Are you an Obstetrician?
“I’m a Pediatric Oncologist, but I’ve delivered babies. I did a rotation in Obstetrics.”
The panicked man glances around and says, “Fine, come around.” He motions to security to let us through.
Liam takes my hand and pulls me with him.
The man carries Cheyanne in his arms, and we follow security to the backstage area, and into what I assume is a dressing room. He lays her on a blue couch.
“I assume there’s no bed?” Liam asks.
“No.”
“Answer my questions quickly. Time is of the essence,” Liam says.
“Are you the father?”
“Yes, I’m her husband. Asher Black.”
“Is this her first pregnancy?”
“No. It’s the third live pregnancy. We’ve had a few losses.”
“Take her underwear off, I’m going to examine her.”
Liam walks to the sink in the room and washes his hands.
“You better be a fucking doctor,” Asher says, but he does as he’s told.
Liam is annoyed to say the least, “Mercy, get my wallet and show him my ID.”
