Page 165 of Captive Omega

She nods and waits.

It’s a good tactic.

Isaura might actually be the best person to talk to about this. She doesn’t know me, doesn’t know Pack Lucas, so her opinion will be objective. And hopefully, provide the clarity I need.

“Three men who are not the father of my child have been secretly passing a pregnancy book around. And they keep doing other things… father of the child things. I found the book, and they’d added Post-it tabs of ways they can make sure me and my baby have everything I need. What would you think?”

“Well, I’d think these men might be worth getting to know.” She flashes me a grin. “And if maybe I could have their number?”

I snort a laugh and point my chin at her wedding ring. “And that?”

“My husband will understand, I’m sure,” she says. But her amusement soon fades. “Sadie briefly, and I say briefly, mentioned you went through some things. Have you spoken to someone about those things?”

“I’ve thought about it.” I focus on her desk and the pretty flower on it. “Those feelings are too big to dig into. I have some stuff I have to do first.”

Stuff like speak at Sloane Eddiswood’s trial because that’s going to be how I get Dexter Pieter to listen. If he won’t listen, then maybe the rest of the city will.

And to do that, I can’t open myself to trauma I’m not ready to face.

Not yet.

“Well.” Isaura gets to her feet with surprising grace, considering the size of her pregnant belly. I have a strange pang that soon I’ll be the same. Well, not soon. I have a feeling time is going to creep up on me fast. “I’d say it sounds like those men care about ensuring your well-being. Not all men, biological fathers included, take on the responsibility of caring for the child they bring into the world.”

Yeah, the alpha who sold me is a prime example of that.

“Shall we get started?” Isaura asks. “I’d like to check your stats and do another blood and urine test.”

Blood test. I knew that was coming. Needles are not my favorite, but if it will confirm everything is okay, I can learn to tolerate them. “Sure.”

My checkup doesn’t run as long as the last one. I’m out in thirty minutes with more of Isaura’s reassurance that things are progressing well.

Garrison is waiting outside the room, not playing on his phone, texting, or even working. Just sitting, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, watching my door.

“Everything okay?” he asks as I wave Isaura goodbye.

“Isaura said I’m okay. She’ll call with my blood test results sometime next week.” Unless something scary comes up in the results which she doesn’t anticipate, we’ve scheduled regular monthly prenatal appointments from now on.

He nods. “Excellent. Ready to go home?”

There’s that word again.

Home.

He suddenly blocks my path with those big shoulders.

I stop. “Uh…”

“Give it a second,” he says, eyes on something I can’t see.

“I’m not going to want to know what’s over there, am I?” I ask, already guessing what he’s hiding from me.

“Probably not.”

White coat. A source of more nightmares than he would ever know.

We stand in the hallway for another five seconds, then he says, “Ready to go?”

I nod, and he leads the way out. “Anything we need to do?”

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