Chapter 6
Brittany
“Don’t do this….”
His pleas fill my head from last night as I stare off into the wall, trying to breathe through my heartbreak. Knowing no matter how much my shattered heart tries to claim walking away was for the best for me.
While he’s putting his club first, I’m putting me first, the baby.
“Is Harper still mad?” I hear and I blink wondering why someone is talking about my receptionist as someone replies, “More than mad. Apparently, she and Doc slept together once, and he was that good. She basically claimed him, adamant to become his woman, so his getting engaged has pissed her off.”
Now, why am I not surprised he slept with Harper?
My whole chest aches, the feeling of bile rising.
Is that why he never came in through the front of the practice? Because he had a history with her? Or because he knew she had a big mouth and would spout about our relationship to the whole town out of desperate revenge?
“More like she wanted his cut,” the first woman snickers but I don’t look up, keeping pressure on my arm until someone says, “Brittany Wayne?” and I look over to my left, locking eyes on a pretty nurse with caramel eyes.
Swallowing hard, knowing this is the best decision all around, I slowly stand and walk over to the kind nurse and follow her through the brown door.
She leads me down a corridor before opening the last door on the right and nodding for me to go in, saying, “The doctor will be here in just a moment,” as I walk inside.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and she gives me a soft smile before shutting the door.
I look around the room, and a pregnant woman on a poster catches my attention making my stomach twist. Then, I eye the one of a baby next to it, and tears blur my vision.
This is the right decision…
Swallowing the lump forming in the back of my throat, I take a seat just as a knock sounds on the door and Dr. Livers walks in with a kind smile on her face.
“Brittany?” she confirms, and I nod once as she takes a seat, and I begin to pick at my fingers, my stomach tightening while she logs onto her computer.
“Okay,” she says as she types away, “your blood results confirmed you are pregnant, ten weeks today.” She looks my way and gives me a kind smile as my hand begins to tremble.
This is the right choice.
She grabs a packet out of her folder and then says, “I just want to make completely sure that this is the path you want to choose?”
I shake as I admit, “It is, I-I’m not in any position to have a baby right now, I-I’m not even with the father…”
She nods in understanding and passes me one packet and explains, “Okay, in this packet is a tablet called mifepristone, which will begin the abortion process.” She hands me another packet, a different color, “In this one is misoprostol, which you need to take two days after taking the mifepristone. You will then begin to experience heavy bleeding and cramping as the pregnancy processes through you. The experience is like having a miscarriage,” my eyes blur with unshed tears as I nod and she finishes, “As soon as you take the medication, call reception and book in for a check-up appointment one week after.”
I look down at the medication, and I slowly nod as I stand, not knowing what else to say, my heart hurting.
“You can change your mind, Brittany,” she says as I touch the door handle, “Just call and let us know.”
“Okay,” I whisper, and I walk out of the room, then down the hallway, leaving the same way I came in, all while I grip the packets and my body trembles with fear.
This is the best decision, it has to be…
I walk out of the doctors', not looking at the two gossiping receptionists, and without looking up, I slowly walk down the street towards my house.
My eyes on the packets in my hand, my eyes blurring, the need to sob pulling me before immense pain shocks through my head as something hard hits it and everything goes black.
Two Months Later.
Beep, beep, beep…
The noise echoes, my head throbbing as I groan, slowly waking up, and I hear, “Miss?” and I squeeze my eyes tighter.
Everything feels fuzzy and I know if I open my eyes the room will spin.
Damn, what happened to me last night?
“My head,” I choke as I slowly move my hand, but wince at how heavy it feels, and the voice quickly says, “Take it easy, Miss, your body is still healing.”
Wait what?
Healing from what?
I slowly open my eyes, but flinch at how bright it is, before I lock eyes with dark blue, worried ones.
“My name is Dr. Pumes, I’m a neurology specialist. Can you tell me your name?” he says as he gets his pen light and shines it in my eyes, making me flinch and I try to think.
He wants my name, right, my name…
“Miss, your name?” he says, and I frown, trying to think but I come up blank.
My name, what is my name?
I can feel myself panicking as the beeping increases and I admit, “I-I don’t know, what-what happened to me?”
The doctor's jaw ticks, and he answers, “You had quite a severe blow to the head. A pedestrian found you, and the ambulance crew decided to call for an air lift and had you flown to the Memorial in Parkerville, Dallas, instead of staying in Louisiana for my expertise.”
“Head trauma…” That's all I can mumble, my breathing becoming choppy.
Why can’t I even remember my name?
Crap, how old am I?
What do I even look like?
Why was I in Louisiana?
Where is Louisiana?
Oh god…
“Yes,” he confirms, “it would seem you are experiencing Post-Traumatic Amnesia. The good news is it is temporary, the bad news is it could take months to recover your memories.” He looks behind him and says, “Melanie?” and a woman in nurse scrubs, her brown curly hair up in a bun, and kind blue eyes walks over to me.
“Hi,” she says softly, “I’m going to be taking care of you while you are here.”
My lip trembles, my eyes are tearing, and I choke, “I don’t even know my name, I don’t know where I’m even from, I-I…”
Melanie gently grabs my hand and says, “It’ll all be okay. We’re here to help you.”
I nod as I tremble with fear, nothing making sense, and Dr. Pumes comes into my sight, and he smiles slightly, and I ask, “How-how long have I-I…”
My words trail off, talking is difficult and I’m suddenly winded, and I take deep breaths.
Dr. Pumes answers me anyhow and admits, “You’ve been in a coma for two months,” shocking me.
“You had a brain bleed which I managed to find and clip, then you were sedated for two weeks before we weaned you off the medication,” he looks at Melanie, then clears his throat as she squeezes my hand in support confusing me but I soon suck in a breath as he mentions, “When you were brought in, we ran some tests. You were eight weeks pregnant…”
Preg… Pregnant…
My eyes widen, and I quickly look down my body in shock to see a bump but flinch at the motion causing dizziness.
I have a bump, a-a… it’s small but I do I have a…
Holy crap.
“You’re now,” he says as he checks his notes, “sixteen weeks along and uh, it seems you’re having a little girl.”
Oh god…
Sixteen weeks, a girl, I-I can’t…
“Just breathe,” Melanie says softly, noticing I’m struggling to catch my breath as the door to the room opens and another woman walks in, her black hair streaked with blue up in a ponytail, her bright blue eyes fixed on me.
“It’s good to see you awake,” she says softly as she rounds the bed.
Dr. Pumes mentions, “She has PTA, no memory whatsoever,” causing her to wince and Melanie says to me, “Meghan here is the best OB in the state.”
Meghan snorts, “She has to say that, we’re basically family,” and I smile slightly, feeling a little at ease with how easy they communicate as Dr. Pumes chuckles, “Alright, I’ll let you women explain more to our patient here,” he looks at me, “I want to keep you in for at least a week, run some more tests before we set you up at a women’s shelter if you haven’t remembered anything by then, okay? ”
I swallow hard and nod, but wince at the throb it causes before he squeezes my shoulder. After he leaves, I look down at my stomach.
Holy crap.
“I don’t even know who the father is, my name, my home, nothing,” I choke, the reality of my situation hitting home and Melanie squeezes my hand in support while Meghan takes a seat next to me.
“It says you were attacked in Louisiana?” she says as she reads her notes, and I rasp, “I don’t know, I-I…”
I don’t even know where Louisiana is…
She quickly squeezes my other hand and whispers, “It’s okay, just breathe.”
“What am I going to do?” I sob, and Melanie quickly wipes away my tears and answers, “Figure out what name you want to go by until you remember your birth one.”
“Can’t they do a fingerprint thing to find out who she is?” Meghan asks, and Melanie instantly answers, “They could, but it all depends on whether she’s been in the system for any reason.”
She raises a brow at me but I shrug because seriously, I have no idea.
Wait am I serial killer?
“We could bring in Flame and Sky, they may be able to do something,” Meghan says, and Melanie nods as she grabs her phone with her spare hand, presses a few buttons, and puts her phone on speaker.
“Hey, Mel,” a woman answers after a few rings, and Melanie instantly says, “Sky, we need yours and Flame’s help. We have a woman who has amnesia, she doesn’t even know her name, but she’s sixteen weeks pregnant.”
“I’ll grab Flame, message me what room number she’s in,” Sky says without hesitation before hanging up.
Mel says, “Meghan, call David, have him bring his kit.” Before she looks at me and promises, “We’ll help you find out who you are, I promise,” and my heart slips at their kindness.
Meghan grabs her phone, and they both begin to discuss all the ways to help me, showing me kindness I’m not sure I’ve ever had before.
I don’t even know if I have a family.
I squeeze both their hands in support as my tears fall, all while staring at my growing stomach with absolute fear.
What if the father is nasty?
What if he put me in this position?
What if I’m on the run?
What if I’m all alone…
I have amnesia and I’m pregnant and unfortunately for me, their cop friend couldn’t find anything. Not even Flame or Sky, members of the Untamed Hell Fire’s MC, who were amazing with computers and the feeling of being alone and scared settles deep inside me.
Who am I?