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Or watch some horrific videos to try and convince me I’m a horrible person for wanting this.
No matter how great this visit has been, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and for them to reveal how terrible they actually are.
She tsks, “That’s a common misconception. In Washington there is no waiting period so as long as we both agree this is the correct medical intervention, we can proceed immediately.” My mouth gapes, making her chuckle. “Would you like to proceed today?” She repeats her question.
Pulling myself from my stunned silence, I exclaim, “Yes!” My cheeks flush. “I mean, yes, please. I would like to proceed today.” I mumble, embarrassed by my sudden outburst.
Dr. Lareu grins at me with a nod. “Perfect, I’ll just need to do a quick exam to make sure there aren’t any other factors that might affect the medication. I’ll go get Emily if you could dress down into the gown.” She gestures to a paper gown lying on the exam bed.
“Okay.” I reply and hurry to change once she steps out of the room. The exam goes by quickly with no issues arising and I’m able to redress to further discuss the next steps.
The doctor re-enters the room with two small cups, one filled with water, the other with a small pill. “Are you at all familiar with the process?” She asks as she hands me the cups before taking her seat again.
I shake my head, tipping it back to swallow the pill and water. Dr. Lareu proceeds to explain the exact steps needed to complete the abortion process. I find myself overwhelmed while at thesame time surprised by the simplicity of needing to simply take a few pills.
I wish all my life’s problems could be solved by a few small tablets.
Dr. Lareu looks at me intently and I mentally shake myself, attempting to remain focused on her instructions. “Do you understand?” She asks, waiting for me to respond.
I slowly nod. “Yes, I think so.”
Clasping her hands in her lap, she leans forward as she warns, “It isveryimportant you take the pills on time. If you don’t allow your body to expel the tissue you can get very, very sick. Do you understand?”
I gulp and nod my head, my stomach souring.
Dr. Lareu studies my face briefly. Satisfied in whatever she finds there, she pushes off the chair. “Great.” Walking toward the exit, she says, “Emily will be in shortly with the medication and a summary of everything we talked about so you don’t have to try and do it all by memory.” She pauses at the door, giving me a soft smile. “It was wonderful to meet you, Miss Marcia. Please come back if you ever need us for anything.” Turning, she strides out of the room.
Emily returns with everything and goes over the instructions one more time before ushering me back to the lobby, offering the same instruction to return if I ever need anything again.
I stop at the receptionist desk, nervous at the cost of this five-star service. The girl behind the desk taps away at her computer and smiles up at me. “Looks like you are good to go.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “What? I don’t owe you anything?”
She shakes her head with a grin. “Nope. Looks like your insurance covers it at 100%.”
“Wow.” I mutter, staring blankly down at the papers in my hand. “I was ready to sell my first-born child to pay for it.” I cringe as soon as the words leave my lips.
Nice. Not inappropriate at all.
The girl chuckles, thankfully amused by my twisted sense of humor. “Well, we do have a fund to help pay for those who don’t have insurance and can’t afford the services out of pocket if you’d like to contribute?” She gestures to a display on the far end of the counter. I immediately whip out my wallet and stuff some cash into it.
Glancing back before I leave, I smile. “Thank you all so much. You’ve saved my life.” I don’t wait for a response as I leave.
Getting into my car, I start the drive home, ready to get rid of the last piece that man left me with once and for all.
Chapter 12
Killian
“Please, please don’t do this.” The man cries, snot running down his face. “I have a family.”
I don’t know why everyone assumes I’ll care that they do. Everyone has a family. If I didn’t go after them for it, I’d be out of a job.
Sighing, I step forward, mentally running through the particulars of the hit.
One of the reasons our services are so popular is we offer an extra option, for a higher cost of course. If someone has a specific killing method, request for staging the body for the confirmation photo, or even for certain body parts to be removed, we will accommodate it. This job was arranged with the specific request to remove all his fingers and make a necklace for him to wear. It’s fucked up but who am I to judge?
Slipping my knife from my belt, I grip his hand. He yanks against the binds attached to his bed posts. “Come on man. Please.” I block out his begging, focusing instead on the task at hand. Prying the first finger from his tight fist, I slice through the flesh and bone, wincing at the sight of blood spurting from the wound.
