24. Chapter 24
Omniscient
The blinding fluorescent light of the private medical bay hummed overhead, illuminating the cold stainless-steel tray sitting beside the examination table.
Brooklyn lay back against the stiff sheet with her teeth grinding together so hard her jaw muscles throbbed.
She was getting real sick and tired of losing.
Every breath she pulled into her lungs felt like swallowing broken glass.
Her body was exhausted and broken down by the relentless stress of the firestorm she had created, but the pain taking over her abdomen right now was something far more terrifying.
Because her spotting had cleared enough for the medical board to overrule the hold, the tribal physicians were officially conducting an advanced early-prenatal DNA test. It was a non-invasive yet deeply uncomfortable procedure utilizing DNA.
The lead doctor leaned over her arm. He held a thick, multi-chambered needle, angling it directly toward the delicate crook of her elbow.
"Hold still, Brooklyn," the doctor said, his tone devoid of an ounce of sympathy. "If you jump, I have to restrike the vein."
Brooklyn hissed through her teeth as the steel tip bit deep into her skin. She gripped the edges of the metal table until her long, manicured acrylics turned white at the roots, her eyes locked onto the ceiling tiles as tube after tube of dark crimson blood was drawn into the vials.
It was agonizing and humiliating. Above all else, it was proof that her bulletproof shield was officially crumbling around her ankles.
Nothing was going right anymore.
The arson stunt back at the compound had backfired into a complete social nightmare.
The local precinct officer she had put two rounds into was dead, but instead of striking fear into the island, it had only driven the tribal Elders deeper into the Queen’s pocket.
They couldn’t go back to the house since the Captin said the home was being investigated the murder of Deputy Aiken.
The island had turned its back on her completely, treating her like a diseased outsider.
Brooklyn stared at the bright lights as her mind twisted deeper into the dark shadows of her own desperation.
She was sick and tired of playing defense.
She was sick and tired of relying on subtle political moves, fake medical delays, and half-assed hit squads that couldn't even put down an ex-lover in the States. They checked his place for a whole hour and couldn’t find him.
It was time to turn the dial up to ten. It was time to unleash.
"The blood draws are complete," the doctor announced, snapping off his rubber gloves. He placed the crimson vials into a biohazard case. "The cell-free DNA will be sequenced against the King's profile within forty-eight hours. The council will have their definitive answer."
As the doctor turned to pick up his clipboard, Brooklyn moved.
She swung her bare legs off the table while her hand shot out like a viper, wrapping her fingers tight around the lapel of the doctor's white coat.
"We need this test to go well," Brooklyn whispered. The hand holding his collar trembled. "Do you understand me?"
"I am fully aware of the direct orders," the doctor replied, his tone laced with double meaning. "The science will speak for itself, Brooklyn. The council's protocol cannot be altered."
Brooklyn stared at him for three seconds, searching his face for any sign of betrayal. Slowly, her grip loosened, smoothing out the wrinkled lapel of his coat.
"Good," she breathed out, sitting back on the table. "You can go now."
He grabbed his biohazard case, turned on his heel, and hurried out of the medical bay.