No Going Back

by Ainsley Kincade

  Brandon didn’t have to offer to put me in contact with anyone, or demand an answer on whether or not I was back. I knew he would be there if I asked, and he understood I needed more time. That was why I let him kiss my girlfriend on a regular basis. Which probably meant there was something really fucking wrong with me, but I didn’t care to dwell on it.

  I had more important things to think about. Even though I wasn’t on the verge of hyperventilating, as Reagan had been, I was nervous to meet her father. His interest said he understood this was more than a casual thing between his daughter and me. Just because he didn’t want to talk about her love life didn’t mean he wouldn’t be there to caution her against a bad decision.

  Stepping out into the living room, I watched Reagan stand and take a deep breath. She was nervous, I realized. Which only served to make me more anxious, but there was nothing I could do about it. I took her hand and led her to the elevator. The ride down was quiet until we hit the lobby and I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Why are you more worried about this than I am? Are you afraid he won’t like me?”

  Reagan shook her head. “I afraid he will, and then we’ll actually have to talk about…things. Which we’ve never done. What if he asks questions?”

  “About what?”

  “Us!” she squeaked.

  “What do you mean? What’s so bad about that?” I asked. Panic welled in her eyes and, for a moment, she looked as if she were going to throw up. I came to a complete stop, yanking her arm in the process and essentially forcing her to face me. I took a deep breath before speaking. “You haven’t told him anything, have you? Not that we’re living together. Not how we met. Not that I’m your boss. Nothing.”

  Ducking my gaze, she stared at her feet. “It hasn’t come up.” She grimaced when I sighed. “I mean, I’m almost sure he saw your pictures of me unpacking at your place, but…he hasn’t said anything. About that, or anything else.”

  The added stress of knowing we were about to dump some possibly upsetting news on her father ate at the edges of my patience. I told myself she wasn’t hiding anything. It simply hadn’t come up, because they did not talk about relationships, ever. I didn’t understand that, but I was trying. Even so, I would have expected her to prepare him with at least those few pertinent details before he drove all the way to the city to have dinner with us and meet me for the first time.

  I didn’t want to be angry with her over this, so I took a few seconds to calm down and center my thoughts before saying, “It’s fine. We’ll handle it when we get there.”

  Reagan gnawed on her bottom lip for a few seconds before nodding reluctantly. I led her to the car and we drove the rest of the way in silence. It wasn’t the best of signs for how the introduction would go, but I was determined to end the evening with her father’s approval. I knew that was a big part of the reason she held back so often when it came to our relationship. She feared what others thought of her, but her father’s opinion trumped everyone else’s.

  When we arrived at the restaurant and walked in, we were both on edge, but as soon as Reagan saw her father and her face lit up with excitement, I felt my jaw ease into a smile. They hugged tightly for several long seconds before Reagan pulled back and gestured to me. “Dad, this is my boyfriend, Donovan Gabriel. Donovan, this is my dad, Derrek.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, son,” he said as he extended his hand.

  I took it and shook with a firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you as well, sir, and just to get everything out in the open so there’s no awkwardness, I’m Reagan’s boss, which is how we met but has nothing to do with why we’re dating, we are living together, and I’m in love with her, and she with me even though I know I drive her insane when I do things like this.”

  His eyebrows rose in the face of my spiel, but he nodded slowly. Reagan was staring at me as though I’d lost my mind. After overcoming his surprise, Derrek met my gaze squarely and said, “Good to know. She certainly seems pretty far gone when it comes to you, which is why I thought it was about time to get the three of us together. It’s nice to be frank about these sort of things.”

  Reagan’s jaw dropped. “Since when?” she demanded.

  He seemed perplexed by the question. “Since always. I’ve always been very upfront with you about everything between your mother and me. I respected your need for privacy, though, and didn’t push. I usually just assumed you’d tell me when you were ready. When you finally brought up Donovan on your own, I figured it was okay for me to offer an opinion now and again.”

  “But…but you…,” she stuttered, “you never spoke about any other women. Ever. I thought you didn’t want to discuss that sort of thing. It was this unspoken agreement between us…or so I thought.”

  Derrek shrugged, not understanding. “What other women? I had my plate full trying to figure out how to be a father to you and not screw up. I didn’t have time to entertain women. You were the only girl I cared about spending time with. You didn’t seem all that interested in dating during high school, so I figured you wanted to focus on your studies and just stayed out of it. You were always a smart, ambitious girl. I wasn’t going to get in your way, pushing you to settle down or do something you weren’t ready for. You had goals, and that made me proud.”

  The expression on Reagan’s face was bordering on comical. I’d never been more amused in my life. Reagan’s entire childhood and young adulthood had been spent thinking her father was too freaked out by love and romance to talk to her about it. He’d spent the time thinking she simply wasn’t interested and couldn’t be distracted by trivialities that might derail her plans. Nobody seemed to know what to say…except the host.

  “Mr. Gabriel, your table is ready.”

  He smiled pleasantly and gestured for us to follow. I had to take Reagan’s hand and urge her along. Her father, however, seemed rather pleased with how the conversation had gone. Despite Reagan’s earlier insistence that he wanted nothing to do with her romantic entanglements, he seemed quite interested in how we were doing.

  As we were being seated and drink orders were taken, I couldn’t help think about how much had changed in such a short time. Watching Reagan on stage with Marie that week punctuated that thought. When the topic had first been brought up, it seemed so big, something to stress and worry about, yet it had come and gone with little fanfare. Marie had been impressed with Reagan’s poise during her presentation, and Reagan had been thrilled with how it went and relieved it was over. I had no doubt she’d be asked back again, but chuckled as I considered the contrast of her confidence that day and her fear over being asked to meet with Brandon two months ago. I wondered if her father noticed as well, and if that was part of why he had asked to meet me.

  “Did you see the video I posted of Reagan giving her presentation at the convention on Wednesday?”

  Derrek grinned. “I did. You looked beautiful, baby girl, and even though I didn’t know much about the things you were talking about, I couldn’t be prouder of what you’ve accomplished. It’s great to see you finally so happy. You were always such a serious kid, always concerned with what everyone else thought about you. Sometimes it pushed you to excel and meet their expectations, but other times…well, I think you’ve outgrown letting other people push you into decisions.”

  Snorting at his choice of words, I laughed. Reagan scrunched her nose at me, but I couldn’t stop from chuckling again. “Yes, she has definitely stopped letting people push her into decisions. In fact, she moved on to making people beg and plead to get what they want from her.”

  While Derrek gave his daughter a questioning look, Reagan rolled her eyes. “You are so dramatic. Two weeks. It took you two weeks to convince me to move in with you. That’s insane. Way too fast. If you’re going to pout about that, I’ll show you begging and pleading really looks like when you…”

  Her voice trailed off. Her gaze first went to her father, then to me, then to her glass of wine. She seemed to hope no one would notice s
he had been talking and simply given up halfway through.

  “When he decides to what?” Derrek asked. He glanced over at me, but settled his gaze back on his daughter. “Propose? Is that what you were going to say?” His focus shifted again, considering me more carefully this time. “Are the two of you talking about marriage?”

  He held back the already I was almost positive was on the tip of his tongue. Reagan refused to look at me. I was the only one still amused by the conversation. “In theory,” I said. “Children have been mentioned as well…also in theory.”

  Derrek seemed to consider that for a moment before sitting back in his chair. “Well, okay then.”

  Huffing, Reagan rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll see a Facebook poll on the subject before anything is decided.”

  She pretended at being annoyed with me, but when my hand slid onto her thigh, she covered it with her own and squeezed tightly. I would have been content to stay in that moment for as long as it lasted. A buzz against my leg sent a wave of tension racing through my body. Reagan felt it and immediately glanced over at me, a question in her eyes to ask if everything was all right.

  Normally, I wouldn’t embarrass myself, or her, by interrupting a private meal. I’d been waiting for a call and slipped the phone far enough from my pocket to read the Caller ID. As soon as I saw the name, my hand slipped from Reagan and I hastily excused myself without explanation. I heard Reagan say something about a work issue before I was out of earshot and sliding my finger across the screen to answer the call.

  “Bradford, you have news?” I demanded.

  Silence was my answer for a full two seconds before a voice dared to speak. “Yes, but you aren’t going to like it,” he said slowly.

  “What? What’s happened?”

  More hesitation. “There was a VICAP hit. His DNA was matched to another case.”

  “A recent one?” My heart was racing, pounding in my chest, threatening to tear me apart.

  “Yes,” he said, stretching out the word to prolong having to continue. “An assault on a woman in Edison Park.”

  “He’s in Chicago?” I demanded as I pushed my way onto the street. A million thoughts assaulted me, terrorizing me with possibilities.

  Bradford exhaled slowly. “It wasn’t like what happened to Keira. He wasn’t stalking her, Donovan. It was an altercation at a gas station, over cigarettes. She shoved him away and he scraped his arm on a jagged edge of a metal trash can.”

  “But he’s in the city.”

  “For all we know, he never left,” he said, “Witnesses said the attacker was out of it, incoherent and babbling. Unis are out looking for him. With any luck, they’ll have him in custody tonight.”

  I scoffed. “Luck? Are you serious?”

  Bradford sighed. “Look, I know what happened to Keira royally fucked you up, but we’re going to find him, all right?”

  “Before he hurts someone else? Before he hurts Reagan?”

  It took a few moments before Bradford attempted a response. “It’s admirable that you want to protect your new girlfriend, but I don’t think this guy poses a threat to you anymore. Killing Keira, it put him off his fucking rails. He’s bat shit crazy, man. We’ll find him, but you’ve gotta let us do our jobs and quit blaming yourself for what happened.”

  “You could be wrong,” I barked. “If he does something to Reagan, I’ll—”

  “I know,” Bradford said, the strain on his patience evident in his tone. “Look, knowing he’s back in town puts you at risk. The Sergeant is willing to assign someone to watch your back. Reagan...she’s a different story. Just, keep her close, okay? If someone’s watching you and you’re with her, she’s protected too, right? It’ll be enough.”

  Agreeing with him was impossible. Knowing Keeling was back in the city put my hackles up. I’d failed to protect Keira. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  ***

  Donovan didn’t keep secrets, not even when I wanted him to. The fact that he refused to talk about the phone call he’d gotten during dinner with my dad put me on edge. Add in that in the three weeks since our dinner he’s barely let me out of his sight and insisted we leave the city on the weekends to take my dad up on his fishing offer or to simply explore, and I was on the verge of having a meltdown. Either he was planning some kind of strange surprise, or something was very, very wrong.

  If Marie and I had been on speaking terms, I would have gone to her for advice. Brandon didn’t know what was wrong, but agreed Donovan was acting strangely. When Donovan suggested we spend the weekend hiking Blackwell Forest Preserve and I complained I was exhausted and just wanted to stay home, suddenly he was convinced I was coming down with something and should make an appointment with my doctor. I was ready to tear my hair out. Yet, I sat in the doctor’s waiting room, having made the appointment to get Donovan off my back and prove I just needed one weekend to relax and recoup.

  My phone buzzed, announcing a text message. I glanced at it and smiled.

  Hey, Beautiful. Seen the doctor yet? Brandon asked.

  I typed back, No, still waiting. Why?

  Ben just texted that Melanie threw up all over the breakroom floor at lunch.

  What? Gross!

  My thoughts as well, Brandon said. She says it’s food poisoning, but just in case it’s some weird summer flu, I thought you might mention it to your doctor.

  God, I hoped I wasn’t coming down with the flu. I hadn’t had a fever or chills, thankfully. I was just tired of being dragged around the state with no explanation.

  Thanks for the heads up, I told him.

  If you need to escape for a bit, my door is always open. You know that, right? Not sure what the fuck is wrong with Donovan, and I know he loves you, but this 24/7 shit is wearing you out. Couples need time apart, too, and I’m willing to kidnap you if you need me to when I get back into town.

  I smiled at the offer. Thanks, Brandon. I’ll let you know what the doctor says and if you need to start making plans, lol.

  “Reagan?” a nurse asked from the doorway leading from the waiting room to the patient rooms.

  She smiled when I stood and approached her. I followed her deeper into the offices and patiently waded through the usual vitals check and obligatory questions. By the time she finally left me alone in the patient room, my head was throbbing and I wanted to lie down. So I did. Then I proceeded to nod off until the doctor knocked on the door as he strode through and startled me into nearly falling off the table.

  Dr. Moore caught my arm and steadied me as a concerned expression settled onto his wrinkled features. “I guess you weren’t joking when you said you were worn out. How long has this been going on?”

  Embarrassed, I smoothed my skirt and attempted to look halfway put together. “A few weeks. It’s nothing really, just extra tired and stressed out. I wouldn’t have come in at all, but my boyfriend insisted, and one of my coworkers vomited all over breakroom, so…I came.”

  “Any changes in diet lately?” he asked. I shook my head. “Exercise regimen? Medications? Alcohol consumption? Supplements, that sort of thing?”

  “Not really,” I said. “My boyfriend seems to have caught some kind belated spring fever and wants to be out doing something every second we aren’t at work, but other than that it’s been pretty normal. Work, stress, life, you know how it is.”

  He nodded. “Sure, but sometimes these things can be a sign of a bigger problem.” He consulted my chart for a moment, frowning, then looking at me again. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a physical. Why don’t we start there, okay? Full workup.”

  Shrugging, I figured it was as good a time as any. I had been neglecting my health the last few years. Ever since what happened with David, actually. After spending several days in the hospital recovering from…whatever it was that actually happened…I hadn’t been able to talk myself into going back. So, I suffered through breathing, saying “ah”, having my reflexes checked, peeing in a cup, and having several vials of bl
ood siphoned out of me. Then, I waited.

  I was nodding off again, in a regular chair this time, when Dr. Moore rapped on the door and I confirmed I was decent. He was looking at my chart as he shuffled across the room to his swivel stool and sat. It seemed to take an unusually long time before he lifted his balding head to face me. As soon as he did, the room seemed twenty degrees colder.

  “Reagan, aside from a quick yearly visit to update your birth control prescription, I haven’t seen you in my office since…since what happened with your ex-boyfriend.” His jowls drooped as his face fell into a frown. “I trust the boyfriend you mentioned is not the same individual from your trip to the hospital, right?”

  Becoming more freaked out by the second, I shook my head. “Of course not. I haven’t spoken to David in over five years.”

  “Good,” he said, nodding slowly. “Your new boyfriend, what are his feelings on the topic of…children?”

  “What?” I demanded, thoroughly confused by that point. I just wanted my thyroid or vitamin levels checked and now he’s asking about David, and whether or not Donovan wants children….

  It hit me. His questions suddenly made sense. Gripping the arms of the chair, I saw rather than felt Dr. Moore’s hand reach out to steady me. Sensations were beyond me. I laughed as huge, heavy tears welled in my eyes. “Oh my god.”

  “Reagan,” he said cautiously, “your pregnancy test came back positive. I’ve ordered a blood test as well to confirm, but I’d like you to answer my question about your boyfriend. After what happened last time you thought you might be pregnant, I’m hesitant to send you home without a firm answer. If you need help…”

  My head started shaking back and forth, dislodging tears. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Donovan will be…oh my god, he’s going to be…” I laughed, pressing my hand against my mouth and stomach at the same time. My thoughts were so muddled I could barely think. “You’re sure?” I begged.