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She clucked her tongue, not to shame me but more like my mom would’ve—commiserating with and scolding me at the same time.
“I suppose you had your reasons,” she said. “You need a proper exam—blood tests, an ultrasound—but let’s look you over, check your vitals. I understand you’ve fainted more than once?”
“Yeah, but I thought that was common.”
“It is, but you shouldn’t ignore it. It could be a sign of something more serious.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling like the worst mom in the world. “It was only three—no, four—times.”
“Okay.” She took out a blood pressure cuff from the leather bag. “Blood pressure is great,” she said after checking it. “And your pulse seems normal.”
She had me remove my clothes and lie on the bed. After some poking and prodding, she announced that everything seemed fine. “And you’re right, you’re about somewhere between five and six months pregnant.”
“You can tell?”
“The size of your uterus confirms it.” She looked sideways, calculating. “It’s early November, which means the baby is due in February. You can put your clothes on now.”
She pulled off her surgical gloves and dropped them into a trash can. She waited until I was dressed, then said, “I assume the lieutenant is the father?” She waited for my nod, then said, “Well, you’re a healthy pregnant woman, and your baby is doing great.”
“Yeah.” A relieved smile bubbled up from my chest. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She handed me bottle of prenatal vitamins. “Start taking these as of now. And no more skipping meals,” she added sternly. “That’s not good for you or the baby.”
I gripped the bottle. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” Her hug softened the scolding words. “You have to take care of yourself. If not for you, for your baby.”
“I will,” I promised.
Her arms tightened on me. “Are you safe?” she asked in my ear. “I can arrange something…”
Heat pressed at the back of my eyes. I bit down hard on my lower lip.
She was a brave woman, to offer to interfere in a syndicate matter. And a good one.
“It’s not like that. Talon—I’m in the wrong here, not him.”
“You’re sure?” She pulled back to examine my face.
I formed my features into what I hoped was a reassuring expression. “I’m sure.”
The bedroom door opened as she was packing up her medical bag. “How is she?” asked Talon.
“She’s in excellent health—and as far as I can tell, so is your spawn—but she needs a full exam as soon as you can arrange it.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” he said with a frown in my direction.
Talon followed the doctor into the hall. He thanked her for coming out tonight, then they had a short conversation in voices too low for me to overhear. But from her tone, she was scolding him, too.
When Talon returned, his face was carved into rigid lines.
“What?” I asked.
“You haven’t even had a fucking exam?” His measured words made me wince.
“I should’ve. I’ve been meaning to. But I didn’t want to be traced, and I was afraid that would make it easier…”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come here.”
