"Murderer!" a voice yells.
"Baby killer!" another shrieks.
I flinch as the words are thrown from either side of the sidewalk. Protesters standing in front of the clinic wave signs and glare at me as Marco ushers me towards the front door.
I want to scream to them that this isn't my choice and that I don't want to murder my baby, but I stay silent, letting the tears streaming down my face tell my side of the story.
"You have a choice!" an older woman with sandy brown hair yells at me. Then she glares at Marco beside me and then back to me, her gaze softening slightly. "Make the right one. Don't let anyone else make it for you," she mutters to me.
After Marco pushes me inside the clinic and the door closes behind us, I can't help the soft sobs coming from me now. Marco pats my shoulder in comfort, but I shrug him off. I don't need comfort right now.
I need a freaking miracle.
The smell of antiseptic overpowers me, and I feel like I'm going to be sick as we walk to the front desk. The bodyguard gives the receptionist my name, and the young woman with white-blonde hair nods, chewing and smacking her gum without a care in the world.
"Someone will be out in a minute to take her back," she says coolly.
My father paid a large sum of money to do this off the books, no paperwork required and VIP treatment, if you will. He's willing to do anything and pay anything to get this baby out of me. He thinks this will solve every problem. He thinks that not having a reminder of Lucien will make me get over him and move on…right into the arms of Giovanni.
He couldn't be more wrong.
I'll never get over Lucien. I loved him. I still do. And I'll never stop loving him for the rest of my life.
An older nurse with glasses, dark hair and dressed in blue scrubs meets me out front. When the bodyguard tries to follow me past the door, the woman turns to him and asks, "Are you the father or family?"
When Marco says, "Neither," the woman turns to me and says, "Then it's your choice, honey. Do you want him with you in the room?"
My eyes widen as I stare at her. She's giving me a choice? I shake my head quickly, and the nurse scowls at Marco and tells him to go back to the waiting room and that they'll give him periodic updates on my condition.
Marco spouts off some choice Italian curse words to her, but reluctantly leaves to go sit down and wait for me. I watch him pull out a cell phone just before the door closes, and I have no doubt he's calling my father to let him know we've arrived.
I follow the nurse through the hallway, looking left and right at the vacant, sterile rooms. We stop at the end of the hall, and she motions for me to enter a room with an examination table. Then, she hands me a gown, points to the adjoining bathroom and says, "You can change in there. I'll be back with the doctor in just a few minutes."
Swallowing hard, I nod and walk to the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, panicked breaths escape my lungs as I search the room for a way out. My eyes zero in on a window above me. It's high, but I think I can make it.
I tell myself that Ihaveto. This is my last and only hope to escape.
Setting my duffle bag down next to me on the floor, I study the window. I see that there's a screen screwed into the frame that will need to be removed first. Then I should be able to just push the window open and climb out.
Reaching into the duffle bag, I produce the tools I packed just in case I would need them — two screwdrivers, wire nips and a hammer.
I pull a small chair over to the window, and it gives me just the right height I need when I step onto the cushion. I set out to work on the screws. There are four of them, and they're tough to turn at first, but I eventually get two out before I'm disturbed.
"Miss Valenti?" calls the nurse, followed by a soft knock on the door.
"Just a minute!" I call back. "I'm not feeling well!" I add a gagging cough to really sell it, but I don't know if she'll believe me.
I turn my attention back to the task at hand, cursing when the screwdriver slips on the screw and nicks my finger. I take a deep breath and concentrate. I need to hurry, but I also need to be careful.
I manage to get the other two screws out before there's another knock on the door.
"Miss Valenti, this is Dr. Rhodes. The nurse told me you're not feeling well. Perhaps you should let me examine you?"
"Please just give me a minute!" I call out vehemently.
I hear the two of them discussing things behind the door, and I worry that they're going to barge in here before I make my escape. Worse yet, what if they tell Marco what's going on? Then the jig will be up, and I will lose everything.
As quietly as I can, I set the screen aside and raise the glass window. It squeaks a little, but I cough violently to try to cover up any extra noise.
