Page 49 of Filthy Savage

She shrugs. “Better safe than sorry.”

The door opens again, and a woman no older than my mother walks in, the same nurse behind her.

“Hello. I’m Doctor Evans. I’ve heard we haven’t been feeling well.” She looks over at the notes on the screen of her own tablet.

“Yes. Maybe some anti-nausea meds will help.”

“Well, let’s run some tests to get to the root of the problem first.”

“Thank you!” Emily scoffs in thatI told you soway, and I roll my eyes at her.

The doctor checks my ears and throat, then makes sure my breathing is good before she makes more notes. “Let’s take a urine sample and do a throat and nose swab to rule out the flu, strep, or COVID.”

The nurse proceeds with that and sends me to the restroom with a cup. After I’m done, I place it in the designated slot and return to the office.

“We’ll wait for urine and the other test results and be back,” the doctor tells us while I grow more irritated.

This is a waste of time. I’m not sick.

“What’s the urine for?” I wonder.

“Oh, we just want to make sure you’re not pregnant.”

A laugh swells. “I’m definitely not pregnant. There was always protection.”

“Well, that’s not always a guarantee, so we want to make sure.” They start to head out. “We’ll return in a bit.”

Once they’re both out, I snap my head to Emily.

“Pregnant?” I whisper. “Are they serious?”

“Well, when is your period due?”

I scan my brain, forgetting when the last one was. I’m not that great at keeping track, and sometimes my cycle is all over the place.

“Crap. I don’t know. But I used a condom with Xander.”

“And Fionn?” She raises a brow.

“Him too.”

She pulls out her phone, typing something before looking up. “According to Doctor Google, condoms are ninety-eight percent effective at preventing pregnancy when used correctly, whatever the fuck that means, but for most people, it says it’s eighty-five percent effective.”

My shoulders sag. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

If I’m pregnant, there’s no way I can keep it. I can barely feed myself, let alone a child. Not like Xander will want anything to do with it.

It could be Fionn’s.

Oh my God. It could be Fionn’s.

Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m definitely not pregnant. Just have a stomach bug, that’s all.

The doctor returns, and my pulse slams in my ears. Once I notice her serious expression though, nausea hits me again.

Oh, no.

“Well, it looks like you are pregnant.”

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