The air was cold and sterile, even in the waiting room as I shifted my weight in my seat. I crossed my legs in the other direction and settled into the hard cushion of the seat. Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, a short, petite nurse peeked her head out from behind the door to the back and called my name. Bingo! My mind interjected its own humor as I jumped quickly to my feet and followed her down the hallway.
Several stops later, after the nurse had taken my vitals and I had given my typical urine sample, I was waiting in an exam room for my doctor to arrive. Swinging my feet back and forth, I glanced around the room, noticing that they had swapped out the posters that were there the last time I had been in. Three months definitely flew by and, apparently, it had been enough time for them to rearrange the entire room. I smiled slightly as I looked around and my eyes landed on a brochure in the rack on the wall across from me. The beamed at each other and in large, red text below it, the words “Sexually Transmitted Infections,” were typed. I almost laughed at the irony of the whole thing. Here was a cute, interracial couple smiling lovingly at each other on the front of a brochure designed to educate patients on the various types of STI’s that they could contract if not careful.
The door cracked open, distracting me from my humorous thoughts and Dr. Larsen appeared in the opening. She smiled at me as she opened the door completely and approached me, the same nurse close at her heels who had taken my vitals. That’s odd, the nurse has never come in with the doctor before. She usually comes in after Dr. Larsen is finished to administer my dose. My mind was jumping to conclusions faster than I could stop it. I looked between the two as they both came to a stop in front of me. Dr. Larsen looked down at my chart again, reading several lines before meeting my stare gain. A hesitant smiled played across her lips, like she was deciding what and how to say what she needed to. She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes to mine, nodding curtly at my chart again before addressing me directly.
“Good morning, Ms. Goldstein. How are you feeling today?” That seemed like a strange question. I was there to get my birth control shot and get the hell out of dodge and usually, they were all business. At the pit of my stomach, a ball of nervous energy began to form and spread across my body. I smiled nervously at her, telling her I was feeling just fine and waited for her to say whatever was really on her mind. “That’s just great. I do have some bad news for you however. I cannot administer your birth control today, Ms. Goldstein. Your urine dip has tested positive for pregnancy.” It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room at once. My heart started racing and my vision blurred as the room began to sway. I felt their hands on me as the world around me became dark and I spiraled downward, enveloped in a sea of black.
My eyes struggled to open when I smelled it. The strong, overpowering odor of ammonia filled my senses as I swam back toward the surface of consciousness. Two faces looked down at me. My vision slowly cleared as the nurse continued to waive the smelling salts under my nose. When I finally could focus on them, I looked at them, an overwhelming sense of disbelief washing over me. I struggled to sit up before regarding Dr. Larsen seriously.
“How in the world did that happen? I thought the birth control shot was pretty effective. Somewhere I read it was one of the most fail-proof methods. What in the hell, doc?” I fired so many questions at her in quick succession, I started to feel dizzy again. Placing my hands on the edge of my bed to steady myself, I stared at her and waited for an answer.
“Well Ms. Goldstein, no birth control is one-hundred percent, with the exception of abstinence. I do see a note in your chart from your last visit that you cut it a little close with the previous dose. Perhaps the level of hormones was waning enough to allow some sperm to slip through. The note also says you were cautioned to use alternate protection so, if you did not, well…you know,” she smiled at me, a weak attempt at making me feel better about the whole thing. I searched my memory quickly, recalling the first time that Reighn and I had been together. Almost cursing myself out loud, I realized that we had not used protection and I had been so enraptured in the pleasure I was feeling, so caught up in the moment, I had not bothered to stop him. Reighn and finished inside me, several times that night. Damnit! My inner monologue returned long enough to chastise me before disappearing back down where it belonged.
I took the papers the nurse handed me at the discharge station and glanced down at them. The cheerful stork on front of the packet I was given almost made me want to hurl. Congratulations! It declared in large print across the front. Inside the folder were a handful of pamphlets, a list of referring OB/GYN’s and a dozen coupons for baby products. The nurse handed me my pregnancy confirmation last, in letters across the front it declared to the world that I was now carrying the bastard child of Reighn Abrams. My mother was going to lose her mind and I had no idea how he would react. I could only hope for the best when I gave him the news.
Rather than prolong the inevitable, I decided I needed to tell him right away. I wove my way through the streets of Los Angeles toward the high rise where I worked and where I knew Reighn was busy preparing for another photo shoot. Since he would be on site, I could sneak into his dressing room and give him the news. At first, the sense of dread had been enough to cause me to pass out on the exam table after I received my diagnosis. It had occurred to me however a baby was not necessarily a horrible thing. Untimely, for sure, but it was definitely not the end of the world. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I said a silent prayer that Reighn would accept the news with happiness and not run screaming through the halls of Threads, Inc.
My heart was pounding, and my hand shook as it hovered above the door handle to Reighn’s dressing room. I was sweating profusely, and my hand had become cold and clammy. Anxiety reared its ugly head and I did my best to stuff it back down as I wrapped my hand around the handle and turned. Pushing the door in slowly, my breath caught in my throat when my eyes fell upon them. My mouth went completely dry and a huge surge of adrenaline forced its way through my veins. In the center of the room, in the chair sat opposite the dressing mirror, Sandra Fieldman sat mounted on the lap of my Reighn. Her legs spread wide as she rubbed her privates against his crotch and leaned in for a kiss.
When I gasped, both their heads snapped in my direction. A look satisfaction was plastered on Sandra’s face when her eyes met mine. I did not bother to look at Reighn, I was seeing red and needed to get out of there in a hurry. My mind vaguely registered Reighn’s voice calling after me as I flew through the corridor and into the elevator door. The world was swaying rapidly, and I looked up just in time to see Reighn’s face as the doors to the elevator slid shut. Outside, the light was blinding and the fact that I was crying profusely did not help. When I finally reached my car, I was barely able to breath, my chest heaving in an effort to draw in what little oxygen I could. I started the motor, backed out and threw my car into drive. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reighn’s figure emerge from the main entry of the high-rise, just as I sped past him and onto the main road.
I had no idea where I was going and didn’t care. The image of my co-worker, roommate and supposed friend sitting on Reighn’s lap as she leaned in to kiss him was the only thing I could see. When the light turned red, I did not see it. My foot still pressed the gas as I sobbed loudly and tried desperately to catch my breath. That’s when I heard it. The sound of a horn blaring loudly. I turned my head just in time to see a large Chevrolet emblem in my face before the world went dark. For several moments, I heard the sound of crushing metal and breaking glass as my car rolled over several times before coming to a rest on its room. I saw several feet rushing toward me as my vision faded again and I was plunged into darkness.
Chapter 16
Reighn
I was on top of the world. Not only were Jessica and I getting along famously, she was spending more time with me than I could have ever hoped for. She had to sneak around to do it, of course, she insisted on keeping our relationship on the down
low. I had no idea why, I was ready to shout it from the mountain top. Something about compromising her career, blah, blah, whatever. Our relationship was the first thing in my life that meant anything, and I personally would have preferred to tell everyone. Honoring her wishes, however, I kept it to myself. Not even Sandra Fieldman was privy to that information.
One evening, instead of hanging around Los Angeles for the night, I had my friend who owns and flies’ helicopters, take us to San Francisco for dinner. I had explained to Jessica that the food was to die for and she had never seen the Golden Gate Bridge. It was my intention to change all of that. If there was somewhere she had always wanted to see, boom, we were on a plane headed in that direction. Even if she just mentioned that it would be a nice place to visit someday as we watched another movie on NetFlix, we would eventually end up there, with me feigning innocence the entire time. The car, boat, plane brought us! Was always my defense.
It was my way of giving back to her everything she had given me. She did not concern herself with material things or money, my Jessica was definitely no gold digger, a far cry from the rest of the women who had been in my life. Early on in my career, I had tried to carry on an actual relationship with two women, only to discover later that they had no real feelings for me, weren’t really into being with me, they just wanted me for my money. Once I found that out and wised up, I never let another woman get close to me, until now.
As I hummed to myself inside my dressing room, my thoughts carried me far away from the present. I spent every minute of every day thinking of Jessica Goldstein and what I could do to impress her next. The trip to the Pantages had initiated it all and, as I had told her then, it was only the tip of the iceberg. If I had my way, I would keep her, treasure her, dote on her for many years to come. That thought spun through my mind, echoing so loud, I didn’t hear her come in until the door clicked closed and she was standing in front of me, half naked. She wasn’t really, she just wore an outfit so skimpy I could almost see her ass beneath the hemline, some would definitely consider that half naked.
Sandra Fieldman’s stare met mine. She lowered her gaze and crossed the room toward me. Before I could protest, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pushed me backward until the backs of my knees hit the chair in the center of the room. My legs buckled, causing me to fall backward. I landed with a heavy thud onto the cushion of the armed chair and looked up at her, true surprise etched across my face. Sandra did not waste any time, she climbed on top of my lap and straddled my legs, intentionally grinding her heated sex against my groin. Unfortunately, my cock sometimes had a mind of its own and sprung to life at her touch, despite my best intentions. I had no control over that reaction, it really was an inconvenience sometimes. Like right then as Ms. Fieldman sat on top of me.
“Sandra, please, I,” I stammered for several seconds, trying to say something in protest. She had caught me off guard and consequently, my mind was racing, searching for an escape but was coming up empty. I knew I had to get out of there but was currently pinned to the chair by Ms. Fieldman and she did not appear to have any intention of letting me go until she had whatever it was she wanted. Inside my head, the old side of my mind argued that it wouldn’t hurt anything to sink my hard cock inside her pussy. She obviously wanted it and was about to take it either way. On the other hand, the more sensible side just repeated one word: Jessica!
Sandra didn’t say a word in return. She simply maintained her current position and leaned in close, like she was going for a kiss. My inner monologue was screaming at me and I was about to panic. I was too busy grappling with my mind to notice the door open. When I heard someone gasp from across the room, my attention was immediately diverted to the doorway. Sandra followed suit, looking quickly toward the exit to see who had come in. She stood there, a look of shock and betrayal evident on her every feature. For several seconds she just stood there, hovering just inside the door. Before I could say a word, argue that it wasn’t what it looked like, Jessica turned and rushed out the door and down the corridor.
I struggled to pushed Sandra off of my lap and go after my Jessica. Sandra seemed to be intentionally slowing me down, as she started to excavate herself at a snail’s pace. Since she was making it difficult for me, as soon as her leg cleared the arm of the chair, I pushed her off of me and stood quickly, her bottom hitting the ground in a loud thud. She glared up at me, but I dismissed her and rushed toward the open door. By the time I reached the elevator, Jessica was inside just out of reach. As the doors slid shut, her eyes met mine. Pain lived there, and it was all my fault. Well, and Sandra’s too, but mostly mine. If I would have locked the door, Sandra would not have been able to just saunter into my dressing room and I could have avoided the whole thing. Hindsight is 20/20 and those thoughts were not helping.
Tapping my foot impatiently on the ground as I waited for the elevator to open again, I pressed the button indicating I wanted to go down repeatedly. I knew it wouldn’t make it go any faster, just like pressing the cross-walk button faster didn’t make it change in my favor, but I was desperately trying to get to Jessica before she did something stupid. Finally, the doors chimed and opened, allowing me to get inside and press the button for the bottom floor. The elevator closed and started its decent. I looked at the digital display that announced what floor we were on as it counted backwards. We weren’t moving fast enough, and I knew it. I would never reach her in time to stop her.
When the elevator stopped, I almost flew out the doors, pushing my way past several people who were waiting to be carried up. I mumbled a brief apology as I ran toward the glass-doors of the exit. They opened with a hiss, the cold air blasting me in the face as I rushed outside, just in time to see her speed past me on her way to the main street. She barely stopped to check for oncoming traffic as she turned onto the main road, wheels squealing on the pavement, and headed God knows where. My driver was parallel parked in one of the spaces at the front of the building and creeped toward me when I signaled for him to come. I pulled the door open and slipped inside, barking orders at my driver to head in the direction Jessica had gone.
I watched the buildings fly past my window so quickly there were a blur, anxiously waiting for my driver to tell me he had found her in traffic. When he did, it was not what I expected at all. Traffic had come to a dead stop suddenly. Three cars back from the intersection from whatever had happened to make the traffic cease moving, I struggled to see what was going on. Pulling the handle, I pushed the door open and stood up on my tip toes, my eyes trained forward. My breath caught in my throat and a nauseating feeling settled low in my stomach when I was finally able to catch a glimpse of one of the cars.
Jessica’s car was on its roof. Crushed metal and broken glass surrounded the figure that hung, seemingly lifeless from the driver’s seat. I broke into a sprint, my eyes still on Jessica’s still figure. Several people were scurrying about the scene, their phones pressed to their ears. I heard one of them describing the scene to what I assumed was the 9-1-1 operator as I reached the side of the car and dropped to my knees. Gasping when I saw her condition, I reached inside and touched her hand. I slipped my fingers down her wrist and felt for a pulse, letting out a huge sigh of relief when I found it. She was unconscious, banged up pretty bad and her left leg was pinned between the dashboard and the seat, but she was still alive. The fact that she her leg was trapped was what had saved her from being launched out of the car altogether. I shuddered when my mind flashed back to another accident in which I was the one who was pinned by the leg and hanging upside down inside the cab of my father’s truck.
In the distance, I heard sirens approaching. I was relieved that they were so responsive but could not tear my eyes off of Jessica. It wasn’t until I felt a tug on my shoulder as one of the paramedics pulled me out of his way that I was able to come back to reality. Taking several steps back, I watched as several men tried to pull her from her car. They were unable to do so manually so one of them called back to
the firefighters that were standing nearby informing them that they were going to need the jaws of life. One of them got on the radio and yelled something I could only make out part of. He was requesting backup and what he referred to as the spreader. The paramedics reached inside the shattered window and wrapped Jessica’s neck in a protective collar while they waited for the equipment to arrive.
Still unable to pry my eyes from the horrific scene that was unfolding in front of me, I vaguely registered one of the paramedics yelling at me. He was trying to get me out of their way, so they could do their work, but I had yet to evacuate the area. I couldn’t, my Jessica was still inside, and I wanted to be right there when they finally pulled her free. Since I didn’t acknowledge him, two uniformed officers approached me from the other side of the accident, cautiously drawing near. Neither one took their eyes off of me as they came to a stop just in front of me.
“Sir,” the taller, more muscle-bound officer addressed me directly his hand resting on his belt just above the gun holster that was hanging there, “we are going to need you to get out of the way. Please, if you must be here, I ask that you wait over there with the rest of the lookie loos.” The officer thumbed over his shoulder to where a group of onlookers were clustered together on the sidewalk nearby, camera phones out snapping photographs of the wreck. I barely heard what he was saying, the blood was rushing through my head so fast the sound overwhelmed any other sound.
Make it Reighn (A Threads Inc. Saga Book 1) Page 19