Page 65 of Stowaway Whirlwind
I crowd her against the wall, snatch the paper from her hands, and then crumple it into a ball with a low growl.
Instead of getting pissed, she smirks. “The doctor already sent it to the pharmacy. That was just the printout for my records.”
“Is that right?” I click my tongue and grip her hip.
She narrows her eyes, studying me for a beat. “Yes.”
Leaning close, I whisper, “And what if you’re already pregnant?”
“I’m not.” She looks away, then slides to the side, walking ahead of me down the hall toward the exit, her ass looking like a ripe peach in her new boot-cut jeans. “Probably,” she says lowly, most likely hoping I wouldn’t hear the doubt in her voice.
Her mutteredprobablyleads me to think it’s just too early for a positive pregnancy test, and I mentally cross my fingers.
Since I had already paid for the appointment before she was led back to the patient room, we’re able to walk right out to the truck, gray clouds darkening the sky, threatening to pour. I hope the storm blows over by the end of tomorrow instead of bleeding into Thursday.
Goldie snags my truck keys from my back pocket as I buckle Lily into her car seat. By the time I’ve finished adjusting Lily’s straps to make sure they’re tightened properly, Goldie is already in the driver’s seat, turning the ignition over. I try to yank open the driver’s side door, but she’s pushed the manual lock down.
“Open the door, Goldie.”
She gives me a shit-eating grin. “No.”
“That’s one.” I yank on the handle. “Now, open the door.”
“No. I’m driving.”
“So help me god, Goldie—”
“So help me god, Davis,” she mocks, rolling her eyes. “I’ll leave your butt here if you don’t get in the passenger side and let me drive.”
“Two.” I yank the door handle.
She puts the truck in reverse.
“That’s three,” I hiss, then jog around the front of the truck in case she’s tempted to back up over me if I run around the tailgate. She’s already reversing out of the parking spot before I have the passenger side door closed.
Chapter 23
Goldie
Davis seethes silently during the thirty-minute drive to Walmart in the bigger town close by, where Dr. Patel had sent my prescription. Though I was initially upset that he had walked out of my appointment without explaining himself, it gave Dr. Patel and me the opportunity to discuss birth control options without him butting in or trying to tell me what to do.
Dr. Patel had also locked the door in case Davis did decide to come back so that she could talk to me about domestic violence and whether or not Lily and I are safe with him. As irritating and bullheaded as the man can be, I told her with one hundred percent certainty that we were safe and happy with Davis. More than happy.In love. And if we weren’t…well, I’ve kept up with my target practice, though I didn’t tell her that part.
When we pull into the Walmart parking lot, I slam the truck gear in park and jump out, damn near running across the lot as it starts to sprinkle to get as far away from Davis as quickly as possible. I don’tthinkhe’d chase me down while holding Lily to haul me over his shoulder in public, but I’m not taking any chances.
To my luck, Davis stays with Lily in the idling truck. I slow my stride when I enter the busy store, find the pharmacy, andimpatiently wait in line. The young pharmacist’s hijab matches her pink-framed glasses, which she pushes up her nose as she types my information into her computer when it’s my turn at the counter.
“Cash or card?” she asks, bagging my prescription.
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss, patting my pockets. “I left my money”—and bymoney, I meanDavis—“in the truck. I’ll be right back.”
I’m steaming mad as I stomp through the rain falling harder now across the lot, dreading the smug look Davis is going to give me. He’s already moved over to the driver’s side, and yup. Smug.
I yank on the door handle, and when it doesn’t open, I rap my knuckles on the window. “Open the door.”
He rolls the window down a few inches, smiling from ear to ear. “You forget something, baby?”
I set my hand on my hip and hold my other palm up. “I need money.”
