“Sure. If you want to step into room four, you’ll need to change into the gown on the table. You can leave your bra on, but make sure to remove your underwear. Dr. Drescher is running a few minutes behind, so she should be in shortly. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Once we’re inside, Kane lifts me onto the medical table and looks into my eyes. “Talk to me, Princess. Who was that man?”
“He’s …” I choke on a sob.
It doesn’t matter that it’s been years. Every time I think about what he did at Andrey’s insistence, my heart feels like it’s being put through the grinder.
“He’s the doctor who performed my abortion.” I throw my arms around Kane’s neck and cry. “He’s a doctor. He’s supposed to heal people, not hurt them.”
37
Kane
He’s a dead man.
Dr. Moore won’t survive the day.
I hate that Brielle was forced to see the piece of shit who had ripped her baby out of her womb without her permission, but I’m glad that I now know who he is so I can take care of him.
“Kane, no,” Brielle says, shaking her head.
“No what?” I lean back, hoping she isn’t saying what I think she’s saying.
“I don’t want to kill him,” she admits. “There’s been so much bloodshed in my life. All I wanted was to move forward, find a man to spend my life with, and have a family. Killing him won’t right the wrong.”
“It will end his fucking life,” I hiss.
“And the blood will be on my hands. How does that make me any better of a person than him?”
Fuck, this woman. She’s too good for this damn life.
I could kill him behind her back, but if she ever found out, she would know I went against her wishes.
“Fine. But we can’t just let him get away with this. Who knows who else he’s done that shit to?”
“I agree,” she says. “I don’t want to kill him, but … I do want to make sure he can never do to anyone else what he did to me.”
“Say the word, and I’ll make sure he never practices medicine again,” I promise her.
She swallows thickly and then nods. “Not by killing him though.”
“He’ll still be alive,” I assure her.
“Thank you.” She presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I’d better get into this ugly gown.”
She jumps off the medical table and proceeds to take her clothes off right in front of me. When I glance at her, her eyes widen, as if realizing what she’s doing.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “It’s habit.”
“A habit I’m one hundred percent okay with.”
She laughs, finishes getting into the gown, and hops back onto the medical bed just as there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Brielle calls out.
An older woman with a kind smile walks in. “Hello. I’m Dr. Drescher, and you must be Brielle.”
“I am,” she says, “and this is my husband, Kane.”
