Chapter 19 #3
“After this IV treatment, she won’t be as nauseous,” I explain. “I would start with toast, pancakes, and move up to rice with some shredded chicken. Any food she’s able to eat is a win. Quinn is underweight because of her past, but the baby is doing great.”
“We’re all so excited,” Callum says. “It feels as if we’re being pulled in different directions in our emotions, though. Is that normal? I know pregnancy is going to be hard for Quinn.”
“Doesn’t need to be,” I say, shaking my head. “Look, if there’s something that comes up, we address it, just like we are now. Hydration IVs until we hopefully move out of the nausea stage, a chiropractor if her body is sore as the baby grows, etc.”
“Can she still dance?” Linus asks. “It’s been a point of contention.”
Duncan and Callum growl under their breaths while Christian hides a smile.
“I need more information than that, please,” I say politely. “Dance how? She should still be stretching, because as a dancer, she’ll feel worse if she doesn’t. Her body should do the things that it’s used to. Just like a runner can continue to run throughout their pregnancy.”
“She dances at a club in a cage, and I worry if it’s safe,” Duncan says. “I’m trying really hard not to put her in a bubble.”
“She’s barely showing any signs of pregnancy,” I say. “I think she should dance for as long as she can. Exercise will help to tire her out so she can sleep too, and also should build up her appetite as soon as we can curb this nausea.”
“Well shit,” Duncan mutters. “Pass me the computer, Callum.”
“What are you doing?” Linus asks, smirking.
“Buying her more of those adorable leotards and a better padded stretching mat,” he grumbles. “Three weeks of arguing and I just should have asked Nova.”
A snort escapes as I cover my face, and then I’m giggling. It feels nice to do something other than cry.
“Ya know, just adding Argument Aversion to my list of services,” I laugh.
The pack grins, and Linus chuckles. “You really should. It sounds very official.”
We chat while the bag drains into Quinn’s vein, and Duncan helps pull it off the blinds that I had asked him to hook it to once it’s done. Quinn is still sleeping, so I throw out the IV bag and the connected tubes once the cannula is removed from the vein and I properly bandage her up.
“Let her sleep,” I say with a small smile. “I’ll come back out to do the labs and vitals next week.”
“Wait, I have to get my checkbook,” Duncan says, glancing up from his shopping spree. The way he spoils his omegas is adorable. He also added some aerial silks to his cart to hang for Linus.
“I got it,” Callum says, pulling his phone out. “Can I send you a wire transfer, Nova?”
Am I suffering from déjà vu?
“You’re not supposed to pay me for a few more months,” I say, standing.
Why do people keep throwing money at me? I really don’t understand.
“Nova,” Duncan growls. “Look at how well Quinn is sleeping. It’s been weeks since she’s been able to do that.
You set our wagons straight, and made us see reason.
To add to things, Quinn may need more of these IVs.
Could one of us do it? Maybe, but her veins have gotten really weird since she got pregnant. You found it immediately.”
“Therefore, you’re going to have to come see us more,” Christian adds. “We live in the middle of nowhere, and that means wear and tear on your vehicle. Plus, the snow isn’t going anywhere until spring. We are paying you more.”
“Ugh, this is just part of my job and care for Quinn,” I say. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”
Callum’s lips purse, and Duncan hands him the laptop without a word.
“Do I need to know something, Nova? Your name isn’t coming up in any banking accounts.”
“It’s under Donna Wright,” I sigh. “You really don’t need to give me any more money.”
He types furiously before canting his head to the side.
“Yeah, that’ll be enough,” he mutters, ignoring me. Glancing up, he shrugs. “Check your bank account. Just because you don’t think we should, doesn’t mean we don’t, Nova. I don’t think you charge enough.”
None of them blink an eye at my fake name on my bank account, but with this group, it wouldn’t.
Sighing, I realize that I didn’t bring my phone with me to check my banking app. “I want to make sure that those who wouldn’t usually be able to afford me are able to,” I mutter.
“Which means that we’re paying you more so that you’re able to do that,” Duncan says resolutely. “Did you leave your phone in the car?”
“I did,” I groan softly. “I’m done here, the IV will give her body energy later, so be prepared for her to either clean or dance.”
“I’m all for dancing,” Linus says. “I think our studio already misses us.”
“It’s been two days,” Callum mutters as I get my things and stand.
“Did you really send me money?” I ask him. I have a strong feeling that he hacked into my bank since he didn’t have my false name or information to begin with. Their deposit was given to me in the form of a check after all.
“Oh yeah,” he says with a grin.
“I don’t know if I should say thank you or not,” I say.
“Oh I get that a lot,” he says, hiding a smile. “If you ever want to talk about that fake name, let me know.”
Linus and Quinn have their hands full with these alphas.
“I’ll be back next week then,” I say, ignoring his words. I don’t want to go down this rabbit hole. “I didn’t get to talk to her, but if the antidepressant is something she wants to try at some point, have her let me know please.”
“We will,” Callum says, seeing me out. He hits the garage door opener as I step out into the room, and I take a deep breath as I watch it open.
We’re all fine, I’m fine…
Maybe if I tell myself this enough, I’ll believe it. Once in my van, I pick up my phone and see the notification to check my bank app. Clicking it immediately, my lips part in surprise as I find that fifteen grand has been deposited into my account.
A small whine of distress escapes as I glance up to find Callum nodding at me. Damn, I don’t even know what to say.
“Thank you,” I say, making sure he can see my lips as I pull up my GPS app to get home.
With the snow, I’m probably going to be redirected on the way home.
Putting the van into reverse, I wave at Callum and pull away.
I’m in shock. This will let me continue to do repairs on Bertha, and maybe even renovate it so it’ll be more comfortable to live in if I do find the need to leave Minneapolis.
I wish I could stay here, but wishes don’t change the reality of my situation. I’m destined to always be the runaway.