Page 36 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)
Ashley
D uring the short ride to the doctor’s office, Nathan asked me more about my job before bringing up my writing again.
“What would you do if money wasn’t an issue?”
“It’s a big issue, since I don’t have a job.”
“Humor me.”
“I’d probably volunteer to do the social media marketing for the Wyatt Foundation and write my novel.”
“How would you feel about having a man support you?”
“Why?” I asked wearily. I’d worked my whole life, so while the idea of having a man support me seemed appealing, the reality wasn’t so simple. Having a man support me meant giving up control over my choices, and I didn’t want to do that.
I turned the question back on him instead of answering. “What would you do?”
“Nice deflection, Slick.” He smirked. “I’m doing it.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ve always wanted to help people. And protecting them is the best use of my skills.”
I considered teasing him about being an accountant, then changed my mind. And then changed it back again. “So, not working in an office crunching numbers.”
“Ashley.” The way he said my name was a warning.
“Nathan?”
He sighed and relaxed his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry.” I’d meant to tease him, not upset him.
“Forgiven, now answer the question you tried avoiding.”
“I’m not sure I could give up my freedom.”
“Why would you need to do that?” He sounded genuinely confused.
“It’d be expected, wouldn’t it?”
“No. At least not from me.”
“Are you offering to support me?”
“I’m saying I could, if you wanted me to.”
“Well, it’s not just about me. I have to support Gran, too.” I argued. Gran only needed help financially while she recovered, and she’d kill me if she heard me using her as an excuse, but I wasn’t ready to have this conversation yet.
“I can afford it.” It didn’t sound like he was bragging, just stating a fact.
“Just how much is SSI paying you?” I joked.
He laughed. “I made smart investments and saved most of my money while serving in the Navy.”
I bit my tongue instead of telling him he sounded like a banker.
“If you finished your book, you could make money, right?”
“If people bought it, yes.”
Marketing was the difference between two equally good books making the bestseller list. And I’d be able to market the hell out of my book. I just had to write one people wanted to read.
“So you’d have an income.” He turned his head and grinned. “Plus, you could hold off on volunteering for the Wyatt Foundation until your book made you money.”
“Where are you going with this?” The Wyatt Foundation paycheck wouldn’t pay the rent, and unless I got a publishing deal, it could take years to make any real money if I self-published.
“Would working part time give you the financial safety net you seem to think you need?”
My head whipped around to stare at him. He’d hit the bullseye of my fear, despite my not actually saying I was afraid.
“Don’t look so surprised. I get paid to hear the unsaid.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”
“Fair enough. Will you? Think about it?” He paused.
“Let me get through today first.” I still wasn’t sure how either of us would feel after Doc confirmed my pregnancy.
I’d taken a play out of romance books and claimed him last night. He hadn’t hesitated to accept and return the favor. But that was in the heat of the moment.
Would he still feel the same watching me get fat with another man’s baby?
Nathan insisted on coming into the clinic with me. Thankfully, he agreed when I said he had to wait in the lobby. No way would I let him in the exam room.
“I love this building,” my voice shook as I made small talk.
“What do you like about it?” he asked, reaching over and resting his arm behind my chair.
The move reminded me of awkward dates as a teen when the guy would yawn and throw his arm around me hoping to cop a feel. Only Nathan played with my hair in the most distracting way, while offering comfort.
I appreciated his steady support, offered without thought or need for credit.
“It’s not sterile like most doctor’s offices. And Doc Greenfield takes her time with her patients. That’s why I had Gran’s care transferred as soon as it was practical.”
He looked around. “No white anywhere.”
“Nope. The exam rooms are pale pastels. Only the cabinets and sinks are white.”
“You like Dr. Greenfield?”
“I do; she’s been our family doctor forever.” I laughed. “You’ll get to know her soon enough; she treats a lot of SSI’s injuries.” The only time she didn’t was if the injuries required an ER visit. Like when Jack got shot rescuing Meg. Or after Jay and Cate were held hostage and tortured.
“Good to know.” He laughed. “Do the guys get hurt a lot?”
I regaled him with some stories that involved SSI needing some medical support. It was usually for minor things, like stitches.
“And when they rescued Blake, John got shot. Mary almost had a heart attack. But luckily it wasn’t too bad.”
“Ashley?” The medical assistant called my name. I stood, squeezed Nathan’s hand, and followed her to the back. I prayed the entire time. Please don’t let me be pregnant .
After taking my vitals and weighing me, Sheila left me alone with my thoughts. I scrolled on social media to keep my mind busy so I wouldn’t freak myself out.
A soft knock preceded the door opening and Dr. Greenfield walking in, a tray with a plastic jar in one hand.
“Ashley, good to see you. I hope your bladder is full.”
“Full enough.” We talked for a few minutes before she sent me to the bathroom, jar in hand.
I doubled my prayer efforts during the few minutes it took for me to fill the jar, wash my hands, and walk back.
My heels bounced on the floor at a pace that’d make a hummingbird jealous as we waited. Noticing it, Doc asked about Gran. It was enough to distract me for the next three minutes. Not completely, but at least my legs bounced a little less.
I held my breath as she checked the results.
“Good news, it’s negative.”
“Negative?” I squeaked out, still holding my breath.
Doc smiled. “You are not pregnant.” She spelled it out for me so there’d be no misunderstanding.
I sucked in air as tears filled my eyes, and my body sagged. I would have fallen off the exam table if her reflexes weren’t so fast.
“You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. Relief robbed me of my words.
It wasn’t until she handed me a tissue that I realized I wasn’t just teary-eyed; I was crying. Who knew relief could induce tears?
“I thought false positives were rare,” I said after calming down enough to form a sentence.
“They are, but that doesn’t mean they don’t happen. The test may have been faulty, or you may have a condition that interfered.”
Condition? I’d just recovered from the pregnancy scare; I didn’t need a health scare. “What kind of condition?”
“Ovarian cysts are a common one. Have you had any pelvic pain or pressure in your lower abdomen?”
I thought about it for a second. “No.”
“Any unusually heavy periods recently?”
I shook my head.
“Then the test was probably bad. I’m sorry you had to go through this.”
“I’m just relieved I’m not pregnant.” My life, and my relationship with Nathan, would be so much easier.
She answered my next question before I could ask. “Chances are, you’re late because you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
She knew I’d lost my job, and with it, my insurance. And I’d told her I had to move in with Gran. I hadn’t told her about Finn, but she knew I’d broken up with the father.
No, he’s not the father because I’m not pregnant.
“Take a second. When you’re ready, Sheila will sign you out.”
“Can I get some fresh air first?” I needed a few more minutes to recover before seeing Nathan, and the fresh air would feel good after so much time spent holding my breath.
“Sure. Turn left when you exit the room. Just don’t take too long.”
“Thanks.” I hopped off the table, grabbed my purse and walked out the door. The red exit sign made it easy to find the back door.
My eyes closed the instant I walked outside. The sun had barely warmed my face before a voice interrupted my tranquility.
“Thank you, Ashley, for making my job so much easier.”
A chill ran down my spine, and the hair on my arms stood up at the snake-like quality of his voice.
I forced my eyes open and asked, “Do I know you?”
“No.” He stepped closer. “But I know you.”
Shit! He wasn’t alone, and he had a gun. I looked at the back door, wondering if Nathan would hear me scream.
“Scott, or should I say Nathan, can’t save you.”
Vegas.
Before I could scream, a wet cloth covered my mouth.
My last thought as my consciousness faded was that I had to warn Nathan.