“She’s got an active prescription currently, so a doctor with more understanding of omega biology than you has okayed it,” I say as Charlotte’s eyes meet mine. “Her apartment is a hot zone right now, but I’ll go over there myself if you don’t write the damn prescription.”
He really is on my last goddamn nerve.
“Do you have any idea what pill you’re on in the cycle?” the doc asks. “Suppressants are like birth control pills in the sense there’s a specific amount of medication in each dose. If you jump around, it could confuse your system even more.”
“Somewhere in the second month,” Charlotte says. “Maybe the second or third week…somewhere around there.”
“Okay,” Dr. Davis mutters. “This is going well. I’m going to write you a script for one pack of suppressants. That should get you through the emergency. Do you happen to know the name of the brand and the dosage you’re prescribed?”
She hops out of the chair and heads for the door. “It’s listed in my recent prescriptions on the pharmacy app in my phone. Give me one minute. I’ll be right back.”
The door closes loudly behind her.
Davis turns to me, raising a bushy eyebrow. “She’s beautiful, but are you sure you want the baggage of a kid that isn’t yours?”
The top of my head tingles, and I briefly wonder if it’s possible for my head to physically explode.
My mother wasn’t perfect—she had her own demons, that’s for damn sure—but one thing I’ve always respected is how strongly she advocated for Malachy. She loved him like he was her own, and she went to bat with my fathers about bringing him home once and for all.
“Charlotte is here while we keep her and her son safe,” I grind out.
Has he always been this insufferable?
Or am I more on edge than normal?
“Yeah, sure.” He chuckles. “We all know shit happens. I’m pretty sure that’s how your father got you. You want me to give her a birth control shot and check for STIs?”
Does he seriously carry that shit around in his medical bag?
Exhaling heavily, I wonder how hard it would be to find a new doctor for Malachy. Davis has been handling most of his care off the books to avoid having a diagnosis on his medical records.
“That’s her call,” I growl, swiping a hand over my face.
Fuck.
The urge to rip his head off is strong.
Am I going feral?
Maybe the stress of running our family is finally getting to me.
It’s getting under my skin that he waited until she was out of the room to bring it up, then acted like it was my call.
Wait until you have the prescription and it’s filled. You can fire him at any point down the line.
I sound like Wilder, but I need a goddamn vacation.
Charlotte sticks close to my side as we walk Dr. Davis out and hang around the entryway for Keegan to come pick up her prescription. She’s not leaving the house smelling as potent as she does, and I already told him to pay cash no matter the cost, so we don’t have to wait for them to try to run her insurance. If she even has insurance, which I don’t know for a fact that she does.
The front door flies open, and Keegan isn’t alone. O’Riordan is at his side, and they’re loaded down with bags. In fact, the entire area around them is filled with boxes.
“Miriam has access to one of your credit cards.” Keegan laughs. “She bought out half the fecking store.”
“Of course she did.” I chuckle but frown as Charlotte rests her head against my chest. “You doing okay, lovely?”
She shakes her head. “Everything is spinning, and I feel like I might vomit.”
Where the hell is Malachy?
