“It usually does within two weeks. We can still schedule a procedure if you’d like, or I can give you a pill that will help your uterus push it out.”
“So, my options are surgery or medication?”
I scoot away from the edge of the table, and then sit up, covering my legs with the sheet in my lap, thinking. Frankly, I don’t like either of the options in front of me. I don’t want to go under anesthesia. I hate taking any type of medication. For one, I tend to react to most medicines, so I avoid them if it’s not an antibiotic.
“No. You can still give it time to complete.” She rolls away from me. “But I don’t recommend that method. Like I said earlier, there is a higher risk of infection and hemorrhaging.”
Yeah, but how likely are either of those things, I think to myself.
“I really don’t want to have surgery.”
“It’s nothing like what’s going on in your head, I can assure you. You aren’t put under anesthesia. The procedure itself is rather quick. Usually takes ten to fifteen minutes max.”
“So, I could do it now and it would be over?”
“Well,” she hesitates. “You wouldn’t be able to drive yourself home. You would be heavily medicated; therefore you would need a driver and I’d have to place an order so the medicine could be ordered. We would need to schedule it for another day, but I’m sure we could do it as early as next Monday. With it being a holiday, the clinic is closed tomorrow and Friday.”
I’d forgotten about Thanksgiving.
Shit. I’m not going to be able to avoid my family. I’m surprised Alana hasn’t called me in the last couple of days now that I think about it. The last text from her was on Monday asking when I was coming up, but I never responded. It’s weird that she hasn’t called me.
“Miss Andrews?” My head snaps up. “Would you like me to have the nurse schedule you for early next week?”
“No. I still don’t think I want to do it. Can I just wait or,” I pause, dropping my eyes and look down at my lap. “I guess I could do the pill if it’ll work faster than the natural way,” I tell her, looking back up.
I need this finished so that my focus from here on out can be finding Drago’s son. Now that Eric has gotten IA and my boss off my back, I can do my job and find Diaz. And I will find him one way or another. I can’t waste any opportunities or have any other setbacks.
“I’m glad you decided on that option. And yes, the medication should speed up the process.”
“Will I be able to return to work right away?” I ask the question even though I know I’m still on administrative leave.
“I don’t see why you couldn’t return to work on Monday, but it will be light duty for one more week. Your leg wound is healing nicely, but it’s not completely healed. I don’t want you to chance getting into any predicament that could possibly reopen the wound, which could lead to an infection.”
“Why not tomorrow?”
“Well, I assumed you would want to take the rest of the week to rest, and with the holiday—”
“No. I’m good. I really need to get back to work as soon as possible.”
“Well, I do recommend getting more rest, and if you need to speak to someone regarding the emotional side of healing, I can certainly refer you to a great therapist who specializes in cases like yours.”
“I’m good.”
“You may think you’re good, Miss Andrews, but just think about it. Talking things out can do wonders for your mind. Trust me. I know.”
I nod, even though I don’t agree with her. I hate psych evaluations and I already know I’m going to be forced to undergo one from the department due to being shot, even if I wasn’t on duty.
But at least I’m able to leave the clinic with the release form signed and dated.
Parking, I turn off my car and go to get out when my cell phone chimes with an incoming text message. Grabbing my smartphone from the center console, I peek at the screen as I open the door to step out.
Drago: You see a doc yet?”
My heart slams into my chest at the sight of his name alone. Fuck, I miss him. But I’m still mad too, so when I reply, I can’t help but come off that way.
Me: What business is that of yours?
Drago: None other than I just want to know you’re okay.
Me: I’m fine.
I don’t know why I’m being a bitch about it. Texting me shows he still cares, but after the way he treated me, I won’t give in to my desire that still wants him so badly. I won’t beg for him to come back to me. And I won’t give him insight on my health either. He made his decision and I made mine. My focus is on doing whatever it takes to find his son.
Nothing else matters right now.
Nothing else can matter.
My phone rings. The caller ID displays a California phone number I don’t recognize. Normally, I’d let it go to voicemail, but it could be Diaz or someone else with information I need.
“Hello.”
“Doc sign the release forms yet?”
Eric.
“I’m good to return to work if that’s what you are asking.”
“No. I asked if the medical release form has been signed. I have to have it turned in to your HR department and IA before I let you tag along with me.”
Let me tag along?
What the fuck?!
“What happened to me being your new partner?”
“I already have a partner.”
“Yeah? Then why do you need me?”
“Who says I need you?” He laughs, and I hear the sarcasm behind his words. “Seems to me, you’re the one that needs me.”
“Seems to me you just called to fuck with me.”
“Nope. I just need the form so that you can consult.”
“I have them. Can I give them to you in the morning?”
“In the morning? Are you crazy? I’m not working tomorrow. It’s Thanksgiving.”
“A baby was kidnapped, or have you forgotten that? Who the fuck cares about thanks-fucking-giving?”
The world—and all the bad shit in it—doesn’t stop because of a damn holiday. And the thing is, I know before Gabriel was taken I thought the same way, and not just at holiday times. When my day was over, I left work at the office. Work and my personal life have always been separate—until Gabe came along and changed all that. Now I don’t know where he is or where to start.
“Me. I care. And just so we’re clear, Andrews, my case has nothing to do with that kid Diaz took from you. That’s PD. It’s on them to find that boy. Tomorrow, I’ll be with family. Maybe you should think about doing the same.” He pauses, but before I’m able to get a word in, he starts up again, making my jaw lock. “If you’re in town on Friday, we’ll get together and figure out how the two of us are going to work together. I really do think you have potential to become one of us.”
“Go fuck yourself.” I hang up.
Stopping at the exterior door at the front of my building, I bang out the four-digit access code, and then yank on the door, pulling it open with so much force that I regret it and instantly drop to my knees in pain. Doubling over, I grab my stomach, rocking back and forth.
Mother of Jesus.
My abdomen clenches tight, not letting up. Tears spring to my eyes unexpectedly, and it’s then I realize I’m not breathing.
Placing my palm on the concrete ground, I exhale and then breathe deeply. I repeat the process a couple of times until the cramps pass and I’m able to stand. Reaching down slowly, I grab my purse and the pharmacy bag I dropped when I went to the ground.
Breathing in again, I take a lungful of air and push it back out through my mouth before finally stepping over the threshold and heading to the elevator.
Eric can shove his NDA up his ass if he thinks I’m helping him bring Drago or his family down. There are more important things than a badge to me and they are all wrapped up in that little boy I miss so much.
I never knew it was possible to fall in love this quick, if that
is what I feel. I’m pretty sure I love Gabriel with every part of my soul.
How is that even possible? He’s not mine. I didn’t even have him that long but—
“Bri, dear?” My head snaps up, seeing the elevator has stopped on my floor. “How are you? Are you okay?” Ms. Lincoln walks forward, away from her apartment door. “I haven’t heard a word and I’ve been so worried.”
“Ms. Lincoln,” I half gasp. “Oh, my God. How are you?” I snap myself out of the moment I had been having, and spring forward, jumping out of the elevator and stopping in front of her. “I am so sorry for what happened. You must hate me.” Hell, I hate me for what happened to her, but that doesn’t keep me from leaning forward and wrapping her in a tight embrace.
“Bri,” she chastises. “Honey, I could never hate you. But I’m so confused. What on earth happened?” Her eyes look around me. “And where is our Gabriel?”
My heart sinks.
“Some really bad people took him,” I admit.
“What?!” Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it. “No,” she cries.
“I’m on it,” I lie. “I’ll find him. I swear it.” My words sound convincing. I just wish I could believe them. I know logically that might not happen. He’s been missing nearly a week and I’m not so sure anyone is actively searching for his whereabouts.
“Why did they want our little Gabe? He’s just a baby.” Her eyes flick to the side and then back to mine rapidly. “Oh, Bri, I know you said he was part of a case, but I never imagined . . .” She trails off, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Are you really okay?” I ask, moving the conversation away from Gabriel. Much more talk of him and I’m liable to lose what little bit of control over my emotions I have. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“I’m all right. Still shaken up a bit, but I’m doing good. They only tied me up and asked a lot of questions.” Her eyebrows turn inward and stress lines creases her forehead. “But I didn’t tell them one thing,” she goes on to say.
“I’m glad to hear, but I’m still sorry it happened. I never meant—”
“You stop right now. This wasn’t your fault, Bri.”
But it was and I’d rather her acknowledge it than try to appease me. I brought this into my home. For the first time, I brought work home with me and I kept him. I could have pushed the chief, made him locate his contact and hand Gabriel over. But I never wanted that to happen. After that first long weekend, I was attached. That sweet little boy entered my life so unexpectedly, and without knowing it, I gave him my heart.
Shit. I’m going to lose it right here in front of her.
“Mom.”
We both look behind her, seeing a tall, husky man leaving her apartment. Looking down, I see a large, rolling suitcase parked next to his leg.
“Oh, Howard, come here. You have to meet my neighbor, Bri.”
Our eyes lock, and I watch as his expression visibly changes, hardening. He must have been the man that answered her phone when I tried calling her a couple of days ago.
“Mom, we really need to get going so we don’t miss the flight.”
“We have plenty of time, Son. The flight doesn’t leave for another five hours,” she huffs. “Plenty of time for you to say a quick ‘hello’ to this nice young lady.”
“Hi.” He walks forward, extending his long arm. “I’m Howard. Her son,” he deadpans.
“A rude son at that.” Ms. Lincoln follows up before turning back to me. “I’m sorry, Bri. He usually isn’t like this.”
“It’s okay,” I assure her.
“I usually don’t have a mother taken hostage in her own home.”
“I truly am sorry,” I say to my neighbor once again.
“I told you to stop that.” She grasps my hand, squeezing, and then pats it. “Howard wants me to stay with him and his family for a couple of weeks. I’m doing it to make him happy, but I’ll be back, you hear me? And I want our little Gabriel here when I am.”
I nod, feeling my throat close. I shouldn’t make her promises I may not be able to keep, but if I don’t believe it myself, then I’ll never be able to convince anyone else. And if I can’t do that, I’m not sure my department will work as hard.
Being as he’s Drago’s son, he already has a dark mark on him that shouldn’t be there. It shouldn’t matter the DNA one possesses or the last name they bear no more than the color of one’s skin or the religion a person follows. A person’s life is valuable no matter what.
“I think it’s a great idea, actually. Being with your family will do you some good. Don’t you have grandbabies you haven’t seen in a while?”
“I do. And I am looking forward to spending time with my little ones.”
I lean in, pulling her in for a quick hug. She wraps both of her arms around me, squeezing as hard as she can. For an older woman, she certainly has great strength within her—mentally and physically.
Stepping back, I nod to her son, who doesn’t return the gesture.
“Have a good time,” I tell her. Then I step around and unlock my door, going inside.
After chucking my purse onto the couch, I walk into the kitchen and reach up over my stove, opening the cabinet. I pause, looking up at the whiskey bottle sitting there, and I wonder how long it would take to lose myself in the alcohol and forget everything that has transpired in the last six days.
Fuck it, I tell myself as I push up on my tippy toes, grabbing the bottle.
It’s the expensive bottle Alana gave me for my birthday months ago that I’ve only ever drunk a few sips from. But if I’m going to get myself drunk, might as well do it on the good stuff.
Pulling the corked cap off, there’s a hard knock on my door, making me jump. I sigh, eyeing the bottle.
Who the hell could that be?
I set the cap on the counter next to the whiskey, and then turn, walking back out of the kitchen and to the door. Not caring to look through the peephole, I twist the handle and yank, pulling the door open.
“What do you want?” I ask Eric.
“You hung up on me.”
“Yeah. So?” I turn, giving my back to him and leave him standing there. He can come in or he can fuck off. I really don’t care. I walk back into my kitchen to finish my task.
The sound of the door closing confirms he came in, but I don’t face him or even acknowledge his presence. He pissed me off. He doesn’t deserve my attention.
My case has nothing to do with that kid Diaz took from you. That’s PD. It’s on them to find that boy.
Yep. Still pissed off over that comment.
“I don’t like being hung up on.”
I look over my shoulder, seeing him through the opening over the kitchen sink, and for good measure, I shrug my shoulders, then turn back around to face the whiskey. Suddenly, it doesn’t look so appealing. I can’t focus all my energy on locating Diaz if I’m getting drunk.
“Now that’s the way to apologize. I’ll take two fingers since I have to drive home.”
I cork the bottle and then push it to the back of the counter. Without replying, I push past him, walking out of the kitchen.
“What the hell?” he calls after me.
What the hell? Irritation slams into me so fast I pivot, with the intention of chewing his ass out for being another asshole cop wanting to push off a hard case because he doesn’t want to deal with it. But that isn’t what happens.
My lower abdomen clenches up, tightening to such an excruciating degree that I feel a repeat from half an hour ago is coming on. My teeth snap together, locking my jaw so I don’t scream out in pain, but I swear to God if he wasn’t here, that’s exactly what I’d do. I need to scream. I want to scream. Fuck me! This hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
My eyes shut, bracing for the impact my body is about to encounter with the hardwood floor. Yet, it never comes. I land on the ground, but I don’t hit the floor. Eric wraps his large arm around my middle and I end up sitting in his lap. My stomach still fee
ls the hard land, but not as bad as it could have been if he wasn’t here to catch me, taking the brunt of the fall to the ground himself.
“What the fuck?” His hot breath coats the inside of my ear, making me squirm and tingle at the same time. “I thought you said your doctor released you?”
I relax against his hard chest. For a minuscule moment, he feels familiar; like Drago. And for that brief second, I let my mind pretend he is.
“Bri,” he says, his voice softer. “Are you okay?”
“She did. I am fine, it’s just—”
“It’s just what? This doesn’t look like you’re fine. You’re definitely not fine, Bri.”
“I am fine. But apparently my miscarriage isn’t completely done like I thought, so I have to go through the motions until it is.” I take a deep breath as the last of the cramps pass. Then I look over my shoulder, seeing everything I don’t want to see. Not now. Not ever. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Pity. I don’t want fucking pity, but that’s exactly what’s looking back at me through those deep dark eyes of his.
“How did you get here so fast anyway?” I ask, changing the subject. He had to have been in the area to get here so quickly.
“Field office isn’t far from here. I was wrapping up some documentation before I was going to head to the airport to pick up my parents.”
“They don’t live here?”
“Nah. They’re currently in Virginia, which is usually where my sister and I go, but Dad has some business to do out here.”
“What does he do?”
One of his eyebrows lift. “Getting personal for someone I’ve only known for a day, Detective.” He smiles down at me, showing off his perfectly pearl-white teeth. From this angle, he’s certainly more attractive when he smiles. He looks more boyish and carefree when his dimple on his right cheek displays. “Let’s get you up. Yeah?”
I nod, then Eric pushes off the floor, standing us both up. He steadies me before removing his hand.
“Thank you,” I say genuinely, not as ticked off at him as I was earlier.
“You have a hot backside. I’d be an asshole if I had let you land on it.” He laughs, but his words trigger a memory.
Dirty War: Dirty Justice Book Two Page 10