Indefinite (Salvation #6)(13)

“Good morning, Muffin. Did I wake you?”

He groans and then kisses Catherine’s shoulder. “You know we’re on the West Coast.”

“I don’t care. No one told you to move.”

Catherine shakes her head. “It’s been years, Ash.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

One day, I’ll get over it, just not today.

“Regardless,” Jackson grumbles, “Quinn loves you, and he’s already asked me about positions at the company if he should ever have the need.”

“He what?”

“He called a few weeks ago, asking if he could come work for me if his circumstances changed. It happens a lot when the guys are thinking about transitioning out. Apparently, I’m like fucking Santa Clause when it comes to jobs for the good little SEALs in this community. But, with his interrogation and shooting skills, he’d be a great asset.”

I stare at my friends because Quinn would never leave. He’s going to reenlist. So, we’re talking about years before that would even be possible, right? “But . . . he doesn’t want to get out.”

Jackson sighs. “Many of us who get out don’t do it because we want to. I was shot and that’s why I was booted. Hell, Natalie said Quinn got injured and that’s why he’s home now. Plus, he hasn’t signed the papers yet.”

“He’s on a crutch, but . . .” I think back to the incident on the street. He didn’t have his crutch. He was standing there, holding me without it. “He doesn’t even need a crutch! The bastard was just playing with me yesterday! Oh, I’m going to kill him myself. Seriously, he had a crutch when he showed up, and then today, he suddenly doesn’t need it?”

How low is that? To use a fake injury. Did he think I was going to forgive him for all the shit over the last few years because he had a fake limp? He’s dead.

“Ashton,” Catherine calls my attention. “He’s not faking it, honey. He was manning up so he could make it through the streets of New York without losing you.”

“How do you know?”

She looks at Jackson, who answers. “Because it is what I would do. If my job was to protect the girl I love, there would be no amount of pain I wouldn’t endure to make sure I was successful in my mission.”

“Protect me?” I laugh. “Please, he has done the opposite of that at every turn.”

“You’re really stupid sometimes,” Catherine says. “As much as I’d love to debate this, I have to pee and you need to go back to work. Just think about this, why would he keep coming back? Why were you the first person he ran to when he was released from the hospital?”

“Because he’s an idiot!” I yell.

They both laugh as Cat sits up. “Maybe so, but then again, isn’t there a saying about fools in love or some shit?”

She hangs up, and I groan. I hate my friends sometimes. He isn’t here because he wants to protect me. He never has. All Quinn Miller has ever cared about is protecting his damn self. And what the hell is he protecting me from? Cabbies and coffee? If he cares about my safety, he would stay away from me.

I head out of the bathroom and run into Clara.

“Hey! I was looking for you,” she says.

“You were?”

“Yeah, I wanted to see if we could get some blood work started for you.”

Yes. This I can control. The baby and my pregnancy is the priority here, so that’s what I want to focus on. Not that stupid boy with his stupid penis and his stupid ideas of getting me back.

“I am still very serious. I just know your caseload is huge.”

“It is, but you’re my friend, Ash. I want to work on this one. Come on, let’s get you to the lab and get things moving.”

“Ah, the lab,” I say with a hint of wistfulness. “My home away from home.”

We catch up on a few cases we’re working on as we walk. It’s been a tough few weeks for both of us. One of the patients, who should’ve had no problem conceiving, lost her last viable embryo. It was, by far, one of the hardest cases I’ve worked on. In the lab, it’s easy to be slightly detached since I focus on the science of things and, most of the time, I don’t have to see their faces. But Clara and I had spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was happening, and we both grew more and more invested in every loss. It was heartbreaking, really.

“Do you have any worries?” she asks as we approach the lab.

“Just that it won’t work. You know my family history and how I worry that I’m going to be like my mother, not to mention my age and the fact that my viable eggs have dwindled.”

“I won’t lie to you, Ashton, we have no idea yet what the chances are and if you’ll be able to carry. We still don’t know what exactly caused . . .”

Caused the miscarriage.

Clara is the only person other than Quinn who would know this wouldn’t be my first pregnancy. Just about three years ago, I was pregnant with my married boyfriend’s baby.

I found out two weeks after I met his wife. I was a mess and had gone to Clara so she could do a full workup. I found out that I was nine weeks pregnant.

I lost that baby two weeks later, and all the fears I had about my inability to have children, became very real.