Page 141 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

“I’ve gotta head over to my office. Why don’t I call you tomorrow after your check-up? What time is it at?”

“Nine.”

He nods and starts to walk off, but I spring forward, pulling on his arm and stopping him.

“I know why I did that. Why did you? What’s in this for you?”

I’m too curious not to ask.

“Rectifying a wrong.”

Without any more of an explanation, he pulls away, leaving me standing in front of the police headquarters, watching him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Rectifying a wrong.

I’m still wondering what the hell that even means a day later.

I’m not sure about Special Agent Eric Alders yet. What could possibly be in this for him? Am I grateful he basically came to my rescue? Yes, of course. But I’m not sure why he did other than he says he doesn’t want local law enforcement to screw up his case.

Something tells me that isn’t the real reason he doesn’t want LAPD involved. There’s more to why Eric feels the need to rectify a wrong.

“Brianna Andrews?”

I snap my head up as a tall, slender blonde, wearing a doctor’s coat walks in the room. “I’m Dr. Sanders.” She extends her hand in front of me, which I accept, shaking her hand all while wondering where my gynecologist is—because this isn’t her.

“Yes,” I draw out, confused.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, reading the expression on my face. “No one told you Renee had a family emergency, did they?”

“No,” I confirm. “I hope everything with Dr. Monroe is okay.”

The way she cringe-smiles tells me it’s not. I feel bad for whatever is going on. Dr. Monroe has been my gynecologist since I moved to LA eight years ago. I hope it’s not one of her kids. She’s had three in the eight years I’ve been a patient at this clinic.

“This is Suzanne,” she tells me when the same older woman who roomed me ten minutes ago enters the room, shutting the door behind her. “She’ll be assisting me today. So, the notes on the appointment show you are following up on a miscarriage from last week. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And you took a gunshot wound to the leg as well?”

“Yes,” I repeat.

“You’ve been through an ordeal.” Empathy shines in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Miss Andrews. How are you feeling today?”

“I’ve been better,” I say for the lack of knowing what else to say. My physical wounds are nothing compared to the state of my emotions. I think I’ve done a good job keeping them suppressed. The only time I’ve given in has been while showering under the spray of hot water, which is very difficult to do when you can’t get one of your legs wet. But I figure if I can’t feel the tears, then I don’t have to fully acknowledge them in my mind.

“Can I take a look at the wound first?”

“Of course.”

I lay back on the exam table as she snatches a pair of latex gloves from the box attached to the wall and proceeds with the exam. She’s quick but thorough. I already like how this is going, even if she isn’t my regular gynecologist.

“Looks good.” She releases the sheet, letting it cover the bottom half of my body again. “You’re doing an excellent job keeping your leg clean and bandaged. I don’t see any need for wound management, but do you have a primary care physician that you can follow up with to make sure it continues healing as it should?”

“Not really. I only see Dr. Monroe for my yearly. If I’m sick, I just go to an urgent care clinic.”

“I recommend all my patients have a routine physician like a family medicine doctor or an internist. If you would like me to refer you, I will.”

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