Fighting History (Fighting For Love Book 4) by Marysol James Page A

and muscular, and she heard his heartbeat, strong and steady. She knew its rhythm as well as she knew her own heart's.
    “Mia,” he whispered. “It’ll all be OK soon, I promise. Can you just hang on a bit longer? For me, angel, can you try?”
    “I’ll – I’ll try. But Nick… I’m worried about you. I’m worried about us .”
    “No.” His kiss was hot and loving. “Never, ever worry about us, Mia. ‘Us’ is good.”
    But when Mia shut the door behind him, she wasn’t sure about that at all. In fact, she was sure that ‘us’ was in serious trouble. She just didn’t have a clue what the trouble really was.

Chapter Eight
     
    Rita rolled over in bed, blinked at the clock. Everything was horribly blurry and she felt too hot. She tried to sit up and a sharp pain shot through the middle of her body.
    Oh, no. No, no, no. Am I rejecting the kidney?
    She reached for her cell phone, the distance to the bedside table seeming to stretch on in to infinity. She fumbled it, dropped it on the floor. Rita sighed, shut her eyes.
    Get that damn phone. Now.
    Slowly, painfully, she inched to the edge of the bed and peered over it. The phone was right there, thank Christ, and with a groan she reached for it, idly wondering why her hand looked so puffy and bloated. Carefully, she lifted the phone to her face, squinted through the blurriness to find Maggie’s number on speed-dial. Somehow she managed to push the right button with her massive sausage finger, then settled back on to the pillows, trying to stay calm.
    “Hi, Mom. You OK?”
    “Maaaaggieeee…” Rita was slurring, her tongue was huge in her dry mouth, and her voice was weak. She wondered if Maggie had even understood what she’d just said.
    A long pause, then Maggie’s voice came, tight with panic. “Mom? You need me to come over?”
    Rita nodded, then remembered that Maggie wouldn’t be able to hear that. “Yeeeetttthh.”
    “I’m coming. Should I call an ambulance?”
    “Yeeeetttth…”
    “OK. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Hang on, Mom.”
    Rita pushed the red ‘disconnect’ button with her swollen thumb, dropped the phone next to her. She closed her eyes, and tried to not give in to the rising, blinding panic washing over her body.
    It’s going to be fine. Just breathe .
    **
    “Is she rejecting the kidney?” Maggie asked.
    “No.” Carrie Langston looked very grave. “She has an infection in her stomach. Quite a bad one.”
    “But – how?” said Reena, her arm around Maggie. “From what?”
    Carrie shrugged, almost helplessly. “Nobody can say, I’m afraid. As you know, she’s on some very strong drugs to prevent her from rejecting the kidney, but those drugs make her very, very vulnerable to infection.”
    “Yes,” Maggie said.
    “So, this reaction happens in transplant patients. A lot.” Carrie looked at the chart in her hand. “Rita was fine when she was here for her check-up two days ago, so whatever this is, it moved fast.”
    “OK, so.” Maggie tried to sound calm, even though she was losing her mind. “What happens now?”
    “We give her drugs to fight the infection.”
    “More drugs?” Maggie asked quietly.
    “Yes.”
    “And if the infection spreads? What then?”
    “We try different drugs.”
    “Why is she so swollen?” Katie asked suddenly. “That was the infection?”
    “That’s the next thing I need to talk to you about,” Carrie said. “That swelling, and the redness of her skin? Those are early signs of sepsis.”
    The women stared at her, horrified.
    “Sepsis?” Reena said. “Like – her body is poisoned?”
    “Well, that’s what an infection is, broadly speaking,” Carrie said. “A bacteria, a foreign body, a virus, a poison. It’s something that shouldn’t be there, and usually, our bodies are strong enough to just fight it off. In Rita’s case, her body is weaker, more vulnerable.” She smiled a bit. “She’ll need some help to fight it.”
    “OK,” Maggie said. “So… we