Chapter 18
Gail
A s soon as Dr. Patel comes back, she wants to measure every inch of my body, much like she did when I was being evaluated for Cupid’s Court. The only difference is that Soren and Mickey refuse to leave the room, making it beyond humiliating to be weighed, measured, scrutinized, and have the doctor comment on the changes.
“Your chest is bigger,” she says stiffly. “And you’ve gained a few stretch marks.”
She continues to comment on every single change she notices, and I keep looking up at the ceiling, pretending I’m anywhere but here.
“Do you have anything else to add, Abigail? A change in your appetite? Hormones?” she asks, completing the humiliation with a deep dive into what it’s like being me.
“I’m hungrier,” I admit. “My mood hasn’t really changed.”
She nods, noting my answers down. “And what about your libido?”
“What about it?” I snap, already knowing what she’s asking.
“Do you feel an increase in your sexual appetite?”
“Yes,” I squeak. “My body’s more sensitive… all over.” I can’t bring myself to look at Soren and Mickey as I admit this.
Dr. Patel looks pleased with my answers and allows me to sit down at the desk again. The silence in the room feels charged as she taps away on her keyboard, but I do my best to ignore it.
“I spoke with the owner of Cupid’s Court before, and he wants answers.”
“You what?” I screech. “You had no right!”
She brushes some lint off her shoulder before pinning me with a cold glare. “I had every right, Abigail. You’re under contract. Besides, this doesn’t just involve you. Mickey and Soren are VIP clients, which means it’s important we figure out how this mishap occurred—”
“Fet is not a fucking mishap,” I seethe.
Dr. Patel clears her throat. “Yes, well… whatever you want to call it, we need to understand how. We also need to discuss a paternity test because if you’ve been with anyone else, you’re in breach of your contract.”
I know what she means; since Mickey and Soren have been my only clients at Cupid’s, if it’s not one of them, they’ll automatically assume I’ve slept around outside of the club. But I haven’t. The only men I’ve been with are the two of them.
She continues to drone on, mentioning that if Mickey or Soren aren’t the biological dad, I won’t just have to pay back everything I’ve earned, I’ll be sued for damages, which includes legal fees, and a lot of other things I hadn’t even considered until now.
Losing the battle with my temper, I slam my fist into the table. “Enough!” I look from Soren to Mickey, wanting to see if they have anything to say, but they wisely keep their mouths shut. Cowards. “They can take the money back, I don’t care. But don’t you sit there and threaten me. I haven’t breached anything. So go on, continue your questions.” My breath is coming out in small angry puffs.
Dr. Patel flips open my file with a practiced flick of her wrist. She peers at me over the rim of her glasses, and I know I’m about to be grilled.
“Have you been sexually active outside of Cupid’s Court?”
“No.”
“Have you had intercourse with anyone other than Mr. Davis and Mr. Taylor?”
“No.”
It takes everything in me to remain calm as she hurls a never-ending stream of questions at me at a rapid pace. Most of them aren’t even about anything I filled out on the questionnaire when we arrived, it’s about my sexcapades. It feels like she’s trying to… Oh my God, she’s totally trying to trip me up.
“Since being approved at Cupid’s Court, have you seen healthcare providers other than those assigned to you?”
“No.”
“Have you taken any supplements not prescribed by myself?”
“No.”
“Have you been on any medications that you haven’t disclosed?” she asks, her tone showing she’s getting exasperated.
That causes me to pause. Just for a moment, but it’s enough that she picks up on it as I chew on my lower lip, feeling the piercing gaze of both Mickey and Soren boring into me. “I—I took St. John’s Wort for my depression,” I admit, my voice small in the sterile room.
“St. John’s Wort?” Dr. Patel echoes. Her brow furrows as she scribbles notes. “When did you last take it?”
I try to think back to when I ran out, and I think it was just after Christmas. Or maybe it was before… shit. “I don’t remember exactly,” I explain. “Some time in December.”
“Abigail!” Dr. Patel’s voice is sharp like a whip. “That’s important information. That herb can interfere with the effectiveness of hormonal birth control.”
I wince, heat creeping up my neck. How could I have been so careless? “I didn’t know,” I mumble, avoiding their stares.
“Didn’t know or didn’t think it was important?” Mickey’s suspicion pricks at me, his silver eyes icy.
Dr. Patel gives me a stern look that has my stomach churning with guilt. “You need to be more careful, Abigail. Anything you take can have an impact on your health and, in this case, your pregnancy.”
My mind swirls with the weight of my mistake, the implications far-reaching and terrifying. How did I let this happen? I should’ve known better, should’ve been more responsible.
Heat flashes my cheeks, an inferno of embarrassment and shame roaring through my veins as the room closes in around me. Mickey’s silver gaze is like a knife, sharp and slicing through the haze of panic that threatens to choke me.
“Did you plan this, Gail? Did you want to get knocked up by us so badly?” His voice is a harsh whisper, but it booms in the compact space of Dr. Patel’s sterile office.
I flinch, his accusation a slap to my already fragile sense of control. “No, Mickey,” I gasp out, desperate for him to understand, to believe me. “It was never like that.”
“Then explain it!” The ferocity in his tone sends a shiver down my spine, and I search his face for the tenderness that usually lingers there. But it’s gone, replaced by a scowl that contorts his handsome features.
“Enough, Mick.” Soren’s deep timbre slices through the tension. He stands like a statue, all carved muscle and restrained power, his green eyes steady on Mickey. “We need to think about what’s next, not sling blame.”
My heart hammers against my chest, a frenzied beat that drowns out the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. I did this. This is all my fault. I don’t know why I never told Dr. Patel about the medicine… well, that’s a fucking lie. I didn’t mention it because I was ashamed; ashamed I couldn’t cope with losing my job, ashamed I was depressed.
“I’ll have to notify Cupid’s Court,” Dr. Patel says. “The fault is yours, Abigail. So there may be consequences.”
I barely hear her words, too caught up in blaming myself.
“Is that necessary?” Soren asks.
If Dr. Patel answers him, I don’t hear it. Everything is drowned out by the loud thumps of my heart.
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
My list of failures is getting overwhelmingly long; I deserted my best friend when she needed me, leaving her to fend for herself while I fled to Jamie’s house. I wasn’t a good enough teacher to keep around. To top it all off, I couldn’t even go to my doctor and admit defeat, admit I was too overwhelmed. Instead, my brother had to get me medicine—the same medicine I never disclosed.
Shit, shit, shit! Mickey and Soren are right; I did trick and trap them. The fact it wasn’t on purpose hardly matters. I did exactly what they’ve accused me of.
“Are you listening, Abigail?” Dr. Patel’s voice cracks through the air.
Even though I clearly wasn’t, I stutter, “Y-yes.”
When she begins her explanation again, I make sure to pay attention. “We’ll do a NIPP—”
“What the hell is that?” Soren asks.
“A non-invasive prenatal paternity test today. All we need to do is draw some blood from Abigail, and do a cheek swab from each of you.”
“That’s it?” Mickey asks, his face paler than usual.
Dr. Patel shakes her head. “Since the most accurate test can’t be done until Abigail has given birth, Cupid’s Court wants her to stay at your place until then. But this is the best we can do for now, to give you some sort of peace of mind.”
No, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Why can’t I go home?” I ask, my voice weak.
She tuts. “Because you brought this on all of you. Until it’s confirmed that you’re not lying about the biological father, you will need to stay with them.” When I open my mouth to protest again, she holds up her hand. “Or if you really don’t want to, Cupid’s Court will make arrangements for you. Either way, you won’t be permitted to go home.”
Before I can say anything, Soren says, “She’ll be staying with us, doc.”
“I’m not letting her out of my sight,” Mickey growls, somehow making it sound more threatening to be in his vicinity than the other option.
Since no one is bothering to ask me what I want, I don’t waste my breath giving my opinion. Instead, I just sit there, and let them talk over me like I’m living in the middle ages when men made all the decisions for women. No, that’s not the right comparison. This isn’t about gender, it’s about power and right now I don’t have enough to be considered an equal, or worthy enough to be listened to. Be… trusted.
I pretend to be anywhere but here as a nurse joins us, rolling up my sleeve to draw the aforementioned blood, before taking the cheek swabs from both Mickey and Soren. While she works, I look at Dr. Patel who’s busy tapping away at her laptop. Maybe she’s communicating directly with Cupid’s Court right now, or maybe she’s making dinner plans.
The nurse disappears wordlessly, just like she arrived, and Dr. Patel finally looks up at us. “Right, we should have the answer to the paternity test in a couple of weeks, but since the next appointment should be when Abigail’s thirteen weeks along, you might as well get the answers then. So if that’s all…” she trails off, looking between Mickey and Soren. I can literally feel her dismissal, as her eyes only graze me because I’m sitting between them.
“Just a few more questions, if you don’t mind.” I bristle, hating how playful Soren sounds. He’s using the tone I know all too well from our time at Cupid’s, and I hate that it’s aimed at someone else.
“Go on.”
“Now that we’re going to be looking after Gail, we need to know a bit more about her…” he pauses like he’s searching for the right word. “… requirements. Does she need special food? Soaps? Shampoos?”
I sigh loudly, feeling embarrassed by the way they’re talking about me, like I’m not even here. Yet I say nothing. I don’t even point out that I’ve already mentioned I can’t just use any shower products.
“Yes, there are absolutely certain ingredients you should be cautious about such as Retinoids, Retinol, Salicylic Acid, and… actually, you know what? I’ll print out a list for you. I’ll also give you some links to websites that would be good for Abigail to read.”
“And food? Drinks?” Mickey asks. I don’t know how he manages to make it sound like he’s in physical pain from uttering three words, but he does.
Dr. Patel taps away at her keyboard, and it doesn’t take long before the hum from the printer sounds. “The obvious ones are alcohol, caffeine, raw or undercooked meat and fish, raw eggs…”
My stomach churns at the mention of raw fish and eggs, and before I know what I’m doing, I shoot out of my chair, get down on my knees and reach for the trash can. Their worried voices and questions become nothing more than a faint drone as I empty my stomach into the metal cradled in my hands.
When I’m finally done retching, I wipe my mouth and eyes. I look up as I sense someone hovering above me, and since I’m not exactly amongst friends, it sends chills up my spine. Mickey crouches next to me, holding a paper cup with cold water that I gratefully accept.
“T-thank you.”
The small act of mercy, no, decency, isn’t followed up with comforting words or even a ‘there, there’ pat. He just shrugs and gets up, moving toward the door.
“Thank you for everything, doc.” There’s something in his voice I can’t place, something I’d think was concern if it had come from Jamie or Luce. Coming from Mickey, that can’t be it.
I get up from the floor and sluggishly move toward him, eager to get out of here now that the putrid smell from throwing up clings to my nostrils.
Just as he opens the door, Dr. Patel speaks again. “I need to speak to the two of you alone,” she says, her eyes flicking between Mickey and Soren. “You can wait outside.”
Feeling drained, I don’t fight it. I leave her office alone, closing the door behind me.
As I walk around the corner, I notice a handsome, but scary looking man. He looks to be around six-foot-five or maybe even six, with jet black hair, and eyes so dark I can see my bewildered expression reflected in his orbs. He oozes power and money. I mean, just his suit looks like one of those custom fitted ones that cost more than I spend on rent for an entire year.
“Hello Abigail,” he says, nodding his head slightly at me. A smirk plays on his lips, making him look arrogant.
“Do I know you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as I come to a stop. I don’t recall ever seeing him before, and something tells me I wouldn’t be able to forget if I had.
He shakes his head. “No.”
Okayyy… well, that explains absolutely nothing. Despite wanting to ask how he knows my name, I don’t. I already know I won’t get an answer, at least not a straight or honest one.
Pointing at my flat stomach, he says, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
My breath hitches. “And where did you hear that?” I snark, not liking the way he studies me like I’m the frog about to be dissected in a biology class. It never ends well for the poor amphibian.
Rather than answering my question, he moves toward me. Unable to help myself, I mirror each of his steps by taking one backward. “Relax,” he croons in his melodious voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Call me crazy, but hearing that from a stranger isn’t exactly reassuring. Because then that conjures up thoughts about why I would even be thinking that he would. “If you say so,” I mumble.
He’s so close now I can smell him, feel him in the air we’re both sharing. It’s unnerving as hell. It strikes me then that despite Soren’s and Mickey’s massive builds, I’ve never been scared of them. Not really. But this guy, you’d have to be both deaf and blind not to realize he’s a predator.
Before I can react, he thrusts his arm up, placing his hand on my stomach. I let out a yelp, trying to move back, but I realize I’ve plastered myself against the wall like a damn imbecile. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss, outraged and… yeah, scared. My breathing is ragged, my senses on high alert as sweat runs down my spine.
He chuckles. “I just wanted to see if I could feel it. Call it unprofessional curiosity.”
“You’re a doctor?” I ask, already knowing he isn’t.
Shaking his head, he lets his hand fall away. Then he reaches for something inside his suit jacket, and I gape when he gives it to me. Papers. Not just any papers, my signed contract with Cupid’s Court.
“W-why do you have this?” I ask, my voice shaking.
When I had my interview with Cupid’s, it was with a woman and I just assumed she was the owner. Now, well, now I can see why one should never assume a damn thing because I’m pretty sure he is, at least that’s the only thing that makes sense to me at this moment.
“Does it matter?” he challenges, and I force a shrug. “What matters is that the things I asked Dr. Patel to pass on regarding the contract weren’t wrong. If Mr. Davis and Mr. Taylor won’t take responsibility for you until you give birth, you’ll need to come with me today.”
“Like hell!” I shout, trying to sidestep him to get away.
He doesn’t let me, instead he rests his hands on the wall, caging me in. “It’s not your decision, Abigail. It’s all in the contract you signed.”
Is it? I thought I’d read every clause, every… shit, some of it was so convoluted, heavy with legal jargon and Latin terms, I kinda just gave up on it. The woman from the podcast vouched for this place, and I trusted her experience, desperate to feel whatever she’d felt.
“I-I’m not lying,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “I’m not here to determine your guilt or innocence. I’m here to uphold your contract. And then, in due time, science will show the truth.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I haven’t had sex with anyone else, ready to fight to make him really hear me. But as Soren and Mickey round the corner, I don’t get the chance and instead clamp my mouth shut, pressing my lips together.
“What’s going on?” Soren asks, sounding confused as he takes in the way the stranger is still keeping me pinned against the wall.
Mickey’s silver eyes are flinty, yet they soften a fraction as our gazes lock. “You okay?” he asks. When I nod, he nods. “Let her go right now.” The command is sharp.
The man drops his arms and takes a few steps back, giving me back my space. “Are you sure you’re up to guarding her?” he asks, ignoring my protests about not needing to be looked after. “You’ll be responsible for everything she does between now and until we have the results of the paternity test.”
Wait, Dr. Patel said they had to keep an eye on me until I give birth, but he just said until we get the answers to the paternity test. So which is it? Instead of asking, I make a mental note to use this as a bargaining chip for when we have the results.
“We’re sure,” Soren says, his tone dark. I’m shocked when he reaches for me and pushes me behind him and Mickey. “She’s ours.”
Those words are enough to make my heart jump with glee, which is beyond stupid. This isn’t some kind of messed up declaration of love, they’re just… I don’t know. Not protecting me. No, it’s more likely they’re not willing to let someone else torment me.
The man nods. “Good,” he says curtly.
With those words, he walks by us, disappearing around the corner leading back to Dr. Patel’s office.