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He helped her pull on the rest of herclothes, then gathered his own belongings, shoving his keys and wallet back into his pocket. Jocelyn watched him, dazed, processing. She was about to say something—she already couldn’t recall what—when out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of motion in the window. A face, eyes peering through—
Grabbing the dresser to steady herself, she took two steps and opened the gaping curtains wider. But there was no one. Again.
“What?” Mr. Sawyer asked.
“I thought I saw someone.”
“You hit your head. You probably have a concussion and are seeing things.”
Jocelyn nodded without replying. She always agreed with him. That’s what he expected of her, how he taught her discipline—but she was sure someone had been looking in.
Out in the parking lot, Jocelyn walked toward her mother’s car.
“You can’t drive right now,” Mr. Sawyer barked. “Get in my car. In the back. Lie down so no one sees you.”
But she couldn’t help wonder if someone alreadyhadseen them.
The clinic was quiet, clean. Much nicer than the last time she’d gone to the doctor her state-funded insurance covered. The nurse did all the normal doctor’s office things—checked her pulse and her blood pressure, took her temperature, handed her a specimen cup to give a urine sample.
“You’re here alone?” the nurse asked, taking notes on a clipboard.
“My . . .” She almost called him her boyfriend. But he wasn’t that. He wasmorethan that, in a way. “My dad dropped me off,” she managed. “He had to get to work.” Jocelyn felt proud of the quick lie. Itworked, too, just in case someone had seen Mr. Sawyer leaving her at the curb.
“I see.” The nurse peered at her once more, then nodded. “Okay, the doctor will be in shortly.”
Jocelyn sat on the exam table, swinging her feet, the paper crinkling beneath her. She grew dizzy, gripped the sides with her hands, felt it bunch, then relaxed.
He’d pushed her.
She remembered now. She’d been trying to hurry and get dressed, do as he asked, but hepushedher. Jocelyn pressed her lips together, tried not to think too hard about what that meant. She let him do a lot of things that caused her pain—but those usually caused a good pain. This was different. And now she needed stitches.
She knew what Mr. Sawyer had done to her was wrong, knew she should probably not go to that motel to meet him anymore. Not just her mind knew it, either. Her palms were sweating, and her throat felt tight—like the inside was swollen. The same thing had happened before, when she’d done things with Mr. Sawyer that made her uneasy. Yet she kept going back. This time, though, she would be stronger.
Fleetingly, she thought of her mother—what she’d tell her happened. She could simply say she fell. It was true, after all. Hell, her mother might not even notice a head wound with stitches.
“Jocelyn?” A woman tapped at the door. She was tall, young, and wore a white coat. “I’m Dr. Nye. I understand you have a cut that needs tending to.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The doctor was quick and thorough. The most painful part was when she injected something she called lidocaine to numb the area. But after that, Jocelyn didn’t feel anything other than a little pressure. “It’ll wear off,” Dr. Nye said. “But you can take some Tylenol or ibuprofen, and that should help. You’ll have a scar, but since it’s at the beginning of your hairline,it won’t likely be noticeable, unless you’re looking for it.” She snapped off her rubber gloves and tossed them into the garbage can. “Can you wait here just a moment?”
Jocelyn nodded, and the doctor left. She stood up and peered at herself in the mirror behind the sink. A gauzy bandage had been placed over the stitches. This was going to be hard for anyone to miss, even her mother. And why did her damn palms kept sweating? She twisted the knob on the faucet and ran cold water over them, blotting them dry with a paper towel.
“Jocelyn?” Dr. Nye came back into the room and beckoned for her to take a seat. “We took a urine sample when you came in. Standard procedure.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“For female patients, part of that screening is a pregnancy test.”
Jocelyn tilted her head, waiting for more. Perhaps the doctor was going to tell her all the different tests they’d run.
“Jocelyn, your pregnancy test . . . It came back positive.”
CHAPTER
39
Iwas pregnant.