Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Brandy
Two days later...
The Diamond Creek Clinic smelled of fresh paint and new carpet.
I sat in one of the waiting room chairs—sleek, modern things that were actually comfortable, not the cracked plastic monstrosities I remembered from the old clinic—and tried not to fidget.
Grace sat to my left, flipping through a parenting magazine with the kind of casual disinterest that suggested she had seen it all before.
Sam was on my right, scrolling through her phone.
The clinic was nice. Really nice. New floors, clean walls painted a soothing pale blue, updated equipment visible through the open doorway to the exam rooms. There was even a small play area in the corner with toys and books for kids, though it was empty at the moment.
“This place is a hell of an upgrade,” Sam said as she glanced up from her phone. “Remember the old clinic? That linoleum was so old it was practically a biohazard.”
Grace snorted. “And the magazines were from 2005. I’m pretty sure I read the same issue of People four times.”
“At least they finally got someone who knows what they’re doing,” Sam said, nodding toward the hallway where a nurse had disappeared a few minutes earlier. “Dr. Joyce is supposed to be really good. Obstetrics specialty and everything.”
I had heard. King had made the appointment himself, which told me exactly how seriously he was taking this situation. He also insisted Grace and Sam come with me, probably because he didn’t trust me not to bolt. Or maybe because he figured I needed the support.
He wasn’t wrong.
“Have you seen her yet?” Grace asked, setting the magazine aside. “The new doctor?”
Sam shook her head. “Just when she was walking through the lobby yesterday. Didn’t get a good look.”
“I saw her,” I said quietly. Both women turned to look at me, and I shifted in my seat. “When I checked in. She was talking to the receptionist.”
“And?” Grace prompted, one eyebrow raised.
I hesitated, then shrugged. “She’s young. Pretty. Looks like she knows what she’s doing.”
“How young?” Sam asked, leaning forward slightly.
“I don’t know. Late twenties? Maybe thirty?”
Grace and Sam exchanged a look, and I saw the corner of Grace’s mouth twitch.
“Single?” Sam asked.
“How the hell would I know?” I said, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
“She’s single,” Grace said with absolute certainty. “No ring, and she just moved here from... where was it? Omaha?”
“Lincoln,” Sam corrected. “I heard she wanted a change of pace. Smaller town, less stress.”
“She picked the wrong town for less stress,” I muttered.
Grace laughed. An actual, genuine laugh that caught me off guard. “No shit. Diamond Creek’s been a goddamn circus lately.”
“Growth spurt,” Sam said, patting her diaper bag. “Between me, you two, Kytten, Ellie and Beck, Dr. Joyce is going to have her hands full. Plus, I just know it won’t be long before Aspen or Haizley are in the family way, too.”
“Something in the water,” Grace said dryly.
“Something in the club,” Sam shot back, grinning.
I felt my cheeks heat, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. It felt strange, sitting here with these women, talking and joking like we were friends. Like I was one of them.
I wasn’t, of course. I was still a club whore, still existing in that separate tier of the hierarchy. But for the first time in five years, the line between us felt a little less rigid.
“So,” Grace said, her tone shifting to something more conspiratorial. “How long do you think it’ll take before one of the brothers makes a move?”
Sam’s grin widened. “On Dr. Joyce?”
“Who else?”
“Oh, Jesus,” I said, shaking my head. “You two are terrible.”
“I’m just saying,” Grace continued, ignoring me. “Young, pretty, single doctor moves to a small town full of bikers? She’s not going to stay single for long.”
“My money’s on Jingles,” Sam said. “He’s got that whole brooding, mysterious thing going on. Women eat that shit up.”
Grace considered this, then shook her head. “Nah. Jingles is too intense. He would scare her off. I’m thinking of someone smoother. Maybe Ace?”
“Ace is a man-whore,” Sam said bluntly. “She’d see right through him.”
“Fair point.”
“What about Jackass?” I asked, unable to resist.
Sam shot me a look. “Jackass is married, thank you very much. And even if he wasn’t, he’s got the charm of a brick wall.”
Grace snorted. “Truth.”
“Okay, okay,” Sam said, holding up a hand. “Dark horse candidate: what about one of the younger guys? Like Johnny?”
“Johnny’s twenty-three,” Grace said. “She’s a doctor. She’s not going to go for a kid.”
“He’s not a kid,” Sam protested. “And age is just a number.”
“Age is a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Grace countered.
I listened to them banter back and forth, their voices overlapping as they debated the merits of various club members and their chances with the new doctor.
It was ridiculous and gossipy and completely absurd, and I found myself relaxing into it, the tension in my shoulders easing for the first time in days.
This was normal. This was what women did. They sat around, talked shit, speculated about relationships and drama. It wasn’t heavy or complicated, or terrifying. It was just... easy.
“What about you, Brandy?” Grace asked suddenly, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Who do you think will make a move first?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. You’ve been around the club long enough. You know these guys better than anyone.”
I did. I knew exactly how they operated, what they wanted, and how they pursued women. I’d seen it all, been part of it all, in one way or another.
“Honestly?” I said slowly. “I think it’ll be someone unexpected. Not one of the obvious choices.”
“Like who?” Sam asked, leaning forward.
I thought about it, running through the roster of Silver Shadows’ members in my mind. Then it hit me.
“Winchester,” I said.
Both women stared at me.
“Winchester?” Grace repeated, her tone skeptical. “The guy who barely talks?”
“Exactly,” I said. “He’s quiet, respectful, doesn’t come on too strong. And he’s smart. If he’s interested, he’ll take his time, get to know her, and make her feel comfortable. She won’t even realize she’s being pursued until it’s too late.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. You’re right.”
Grace looked impressed. “Damn, Brandy. That’s... actually a solid read.”
I shrugged, feeling a flush of something that might have been pride. “I’ve been paying attention.”
“Clearly,” Grace said, and there was something in her tone, respect, maybe, that made my chest tighten.
The door to the hallway opened, and a nurse stepped out, clipboard in hand. “Brandy Griffin?”
I stood, my stomach flipping nervously. Grace and Sam both rose with me, flanking me like bodyguards.
“We’ve got you,” Sam said quietly, her hand briefly touching my arm.
Grace didn’t say anything, but she met my eyes and gave me a small nod. And for the first time since I had pissed on that pregnancy test, I didn’t feel completely alone.
The nurse led us down the hallway, past exam rooms and a small lab, until we reached a door at the end. She knocked once, then pushed it open.
“Dr. Joyce, your patient is here.”
The woman who looked up from the desk was younger than I had expected, with dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and sharp, intelligent eyes behind a pair of black-framed glasses. She wore scrubs and a white coat, and when she smiled, it was warm and genuine.
“Brandy?” she said, standing and extending a hand. “I’m Dr. Ann Joyce. It’s nice to meet you.”
I shook her hand. Her grip was firm and confident. “Nice to meet you too.”
Her gaze shifted to Grace and Sam. “And you two must be the support team?”
“Grace,” Grace said, shaking her hand. “King’s old lady.”
“Sam,” Sam added. “Jackass’ wife. I had twins here a few months ago.”
“How are they doing?” Dr. Joyce asked, her smile widening.
“Loud,” Sam said. “But healthy.”
“Good to hear.” Dr. Joyce gestured to the exam table. “Brandy, why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll get started?”
I climbed onto the table. The paper crinkled beneath me, and I tried to ignore the way my hands shook as Dr. Joyce pulled up a rolling stool and sat down, her expression calm and professional. “So, I understand you’re here for a pregnancy confirmation and initial check-up?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay. Let’s start with some basics.” She pulled out a form and a pen. “When was your last menstrual period?”
I told her, and she made a note.
“And you took a home pregnancy test?”
“Two,” I admitted. “Both positive.”
“Any symptoms? Nausea, fatigue, breast tenderness?”
“All of the above,” I said.
She nodded, making more notes. “That’s normal. We’ll do a blood test today to confirm the pregnancy and check your hormone levels, and then we’ll schedule an ultrasound to determine how far along you are and make sure everything looks good.”
“Okay,” I said, my throat tight.
Dr. Joyce looked up at me, her expression softening. “I know this can be overwhelming, especially if it’s your first pregnancy. But you’re in good hands, Brandy. We’ll take this one step at a time, and I’ll be here to answer any questions you have along the way.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Grace stepped forward, her hand resting on my shoulder. “She’s got us too,” she said firmly. “She’s not doing this alone.”
Dr. Joyce smiled. “That’s good to hear. Support makes all the difference.” She stood and moved to the counter, pulling out supplies for the blood draw. “Let’s get this done, and then we’ll talk about the next steps.”
As she prepped the needle, I glanced at Grace and Sam. They were both watching me, their expressions a mix of concern and encouragement. And despite everything, the uncertainty, the fear, the mess I had gotten myself into, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Hope... that maybe I wasn’t alone after all.