Page 21 of He Is Ours (Lovers in Crossfire #2)

Chapter twenty-one

Olivia

I

am

standing

outside

of my building, staring up at the glass windows, knowing that when I go in, I will have to get back to everything I just lived through—saving victims, stopping Lopez García and others like him.

The thought of just staying at home all day makes my skin crawl.

I know I don't have to be back to work, but my mind is everywhere, and I feel like I am going insane.

What better way to get my mind to chill out than to put it to work?

With a deep breath, I walk through the doors, dreading every step I take further into the building.

I step into the big open office, and look around, my breath ragged, and I attempt to calm myself down.

“Hey! O’Connor! Welcome back.” Miller says, another officer who works in the gang unit, but I have never even spoken to him.

I give him a quick wave in acknowledgment and turn back to looking at everyone getting ready for their day.

I walk up the stairs to the Captain’s office to see where he wants me.

It has been two weeks since I have been home, and a little over a month since I was on the dock the night my life went to shit.

I was only with Lopez García for two weeks, but it felt like a lifetime.

My stomach starts to turn as my mind runs through everything that happened.

Come on, Olivia. Breath.

In through your nose.

Out through your mouth.

Honestly, I’m not even sure if I want to be here anymore. I turn to walk back out the door, but my pride stops me. Dad and Oliver want me to quit, but I don't think I can. This is all I know, and they didn't trust me enough until now to include me in the family business, so why would I start now?

I turn around and continue walking forward. One step at a time. That's all it takes. I step up the three steps to the office and knock on the door.

Captain looks up from a file on his desk, and his facial expression changes to pure shock from seeing me.

“O’Connor, I wasn’t expecting you back in the office so quickly after… everything that happened.”

I look at him with confusion written all over my face. “With all due respect, sir, it's been two weeks. If I stay at home any longer, I might go stir crazy.”

He holds up his hand to me in surrender. "Hey, I'm not complaining by any means. Glad to have you back. Please let me know if things become too much for you. My door is always open." I nod and give my thanks while I exit the office.

“Hey, O’Connor.” His voice halts me in my spot. I turn to look at him, not making a sound. “I would like you to see the staff psychiatrist and get cleared by them before I can put you on full duty again.” I nod my understanding and turn to walk away.

I don't want to be put on some bullshit light-duty desk work. If they do mark me as unfit, I’ll just stay home. And while I’m at it, I’ll just use Alex’s office to track down Lopez García myself.

As I walk back to my desk, I stop by the break room to get some coffee. Lord knows I need it today; I've only been in this office for fifteen minutes, and I'm already exhausted.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee invades my senses as soon as I enter. My stomach starts to turn, and bile rises, burning my throat. I run to the nearest trash can and throw up all of the contents in my stomach.

That was weird. I don't feel sick, and we had steak for dinner last night, so it shouldn't be food poisoning.

I grab the bag of trash and take it to the dumpster so no one knows I just puked my guts up in the break room, then come back to get my coffee. When I enter again, my stomach starts to turn from the smell.

Noted… No coffee for me today.

It's finally 5 o'clock, and I feel like I have accomplished absolutely nothing today.

Some first day back….

Everyone is already filing out of the office. I stand up to start to gather up my things, and my head starts to spin. I grab the desk with one hand and the little trashcan next to my desk and throw up the water in my stomach. That is the only thing I have been able to keep down today.

"You alright, O'Connor?" Michele, our forensics specialist, asks me.

"Yeah, I think so. Just been super nauseous today and thrown up twice so far. But I feel fine other than that. I might make an appointment with my doc to make sure it's not some virus."

"Girl, I don't want to step on toes or anything, but you might want to get a pregnancy test on your way home. This is exactly how I was with my son. Super sick, but fine other than that."

Did she just say pregnancy test? There is no way! Is there?

FUCK.

"Thanks, Michele…” My voice breaks. “I'll stop on the way home.

I sure as fuck hope it's just a virus though.

" She laughs at my comment and starts to walk away, but I am so serious.

How am I going to deal with being pregnant right now?

How can I have a baby in this fucked up life I live?

I just found out my dad is the head of the mafia, I am a cop who just got thrown into an auction, my boyfriend is the heir to the Cartel, and my girlfriend killed her ex…

Okay, that even sounds crazy in my head.

I know they are all amazing people, we just live in a fucking crazy world. Our lives are crazy.

I stop by the gas station on my way home, pick up a test, and some Skittles.

I hide the test in my bag so there are no questions before I have answers.

My nerves are going a thousand miles an hour right now.

I don’t need to have a baby… Between Lopez García and the Starr brothers, now is not the time.

When I walk in the door, the smell of cooking meat invades my nose, and once again, my stomach turns. I run upstairs into the master bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. I throw my bag down on the ground and barely make it to the toilet before the puke is coming up my throat and nose.

Please just be a virus.

Please just be a virus.

I hope that if I say it enough, it will be true.

I get up from the floor, grab the pregnancy test box out of my bag, wash my face, and grab my toothbrush. This taste of vomit in my mouth is going to make me puke again.

I need to take this damn test, but I really don’t want to.

I brush my teeth and grab the box off the counter. My hands are shaking so bad I can’t even read anything on the box.

“Well, here goes nothing,” I say out loud to myself.

I open the box, ripping the whole thing to shreds with my shaking hands. The test and instructions fall on the ground in front of me. I groan. This is turning out to be more of a pain in the ass than I thought.

I bend down and pick up the test and instructions, setting the test on the counter and opening the instructions.

Seems easy enough: pee on the stick, wait three minutes, and read the results.

But if it's so easy, why am I hesitating? I can’t even grab the test right now, my stomach is in knots, and my head is spinning.

Just do it, Olivia. You can do it. You need the answers.

When I finally get the urge to pee, I snatch the test off the counter, rip open the wrapper with my teeth, and piss on the stick. I swear this is one of the most disgusting things I have ever done. I swear I feel like I am going to pee on my hands.

When I finish, I set the test face down on the counter, so I can't see the screen. I am too scared to look. I wash my hands three times to make sure no pee is on them. I can’t handle that idea right now, so I pull out my phone and set a timer for three minutes.

I start pacing the bathroom, my mind going a thousand miles an hour.

Alex would be the dad, right?

Fuck, what if it's Tony? I don’t want that fuckers kid.

I shutter.

What if it's Lopez García’s kid…

I start to spiral out of control with my thoughts when my alarm goes off on my phone. I freeze and turn to the test like it’s the monster hiding under my bed.

Okay Olivia. You can do this. Just turn over the test.

I reach out to grab the test and freeze.

Just flip the test, Olivia.

I flip the test, two bold pink lines stare at me, taunting me, laughing at me. I feel the blood drain from my face.

FUCK.

A knock on the door scares me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, Liv, you okay? You have been in there for a while. And dinner is done.” Alex’s voice is soft and gentle.

He has been so gentle with me since I started staying with him.

I feel bad because I don’t want him to feel like he has to walk on eggshells, but I am still working through my issues.

Now I am just going to add another issue to the list…

Does he know what I am doing?

“Yeah… I’m okay. I’ll be down in a second.”

I sit down on the lid of the toilet and put my face in my hands. What will I even say to them? ‘Hey guys, so I’m pregnant and I don’t know who the dad is, because I got raped by the Cartel?’ Yeah, that will go over well.

And what will Rachel think? I mean, she lost her baby, will she hate me because I am pregnant? Will she want me to get rid of the baby?

I throw away the test and rewash my hands before I head downstairs.

Time to face the music. I have to tell them ASAP. They will know something is up; I am terrible at lying to them.