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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Now
No one has seen or heard from Ryan since he showed up at the bar three weeks ago. He has literally dropped off the radar. All the guys are increasingly anxious as they wait for his next move. I know that it’s naïve but there is a small part of me that hopes he’ll just decide that this isn’t worth the trouble. That I’m not worth the trouble. I’ll admit that a part of me wondered if Storm and Chance took care of him — permanently —but they have assured me that he was very much alive when they left him.
“Babe, we’re gonna be late,” Nix calls from the living room.
Sighing, I check my makeup again before making my way out to him. I’m beginning to feel suffocated by all these alpha males around here. They won’t let me go anywhere without an escort…or two. I get it, I really do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I would love just a little space every once in a while.
“Nix, you know I can go to the doctor on my own, right?”
“Not with that asshole on the loose.”
I sigh again, giving up because I know I won’t win this.
“Fine, but you have to stay in the waiting room.”
“But what if he—”
“No! Absolutely not. If he shows up, there will be plenty of people around and I can scream for help.”
“All right.” A deep frown mars his face, letting me know that he is really not happy about this. He grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine as we make our way out to the car. I don’t miss the fact that he is scanning every inch of our surroundings. He opens my door for me and shuffles around to his side after I climb in, still looking around him.
Good lord, this has got to stop.
I love him but he’s driving me insane.
He climbs into the car and starts driving. “So, why are you going to the doctor?”
“To get my birth control shot.”
“Oh, okay.” He holds my hand as he drives to my doctor’s office and I lean back in the seat and relax.
Ten minutes later, we pull up in front of the office and Nix tells me to wait in the car while he comes around to get me. Rolling my eyes, I throw the door open and step out, earning a scowl from him.
“I told you to wait.”
“Nix, I need you to relax. You’re going to make yourself and me crazy.”
“I’m just worried.”
“I know, and I love you for being so worried about me, but seriously, you need to calm down, or I won’t let you stay at the apartment tonight.”
He gapes at me. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
Sighing, he shakes his head. “Fine. I’ll try to relax.”
“Thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek.
“I love you, Emma.”
“I know, baby.”
* * * *
My doctor walks into the room and sits down on the rolling chair by the desk. She offers me a warm smile and I get the sense that something is off here. Dr. Greene is an older woman, probably in her fifties, with gray hair styled in a pixie cut, and a slim figure. More than once, I’ve pictured her as a weed-smoking hippie in the sixties.
