Fate (Steel Brothers Saga #13) - Helen Hardt Page 0,71
in the exam room, I sat down in a chair.
Another waiting game.
And this one was slower than the minute I spent in Dirk’s room without my shirt on.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Nothing to worry about.
Brad used a condom.
Condoms were effective most of the time.
Most of the time…
Most.
Not all.
Not all.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Thirty.
Then Kathleen’s knock on the door.
I cleared my throat. “Come in.”
She wasn’t smiling.
Chapter Fifty
Brad
“You may think there’s always a choice. You’d be wrong.” Wendy eyed my hand. “Still wearing your ring, I see.”
I looked down at my right hand.
Yeah, I was, but it had nothing to do with any fucked-up loyalty to Wendy or the Future Lawmakers. I couldn’t get the damned thing off. I’d put on a lot of muscle and broadened since I was in high school, which evidently extended to my fingers.
I’d paid for these stupid rings that Wendy had designed. Her distorted symbol that had no meaning as far as I could tell.
“I won’t be wearing it much longer.” Mental note: Go to a jeweler, have the damned thing sawed off, and sell it for junk gold.
“You’re still wearing it, though. That says more than a thousand words, Brad.”
It says only that I can’t get it off. But I didn’t tell Wendy that. Let her think she still had some kind of bizarre hold on me. I could use that to my advantage.
“No more deals. Figure out how to finance your future some other way, Wendy. You’re cut off as of now.”
She smiled. “You’ll never cut me off, Brad. You and I both know that.”
I chuckled. “You’re wrong. The bank is closed.”
She sauntered forward and trailed her index finger over my lower lip. “Close the bank if you want to. We no longer need your money. But that’s not what I’m talking about when I say you’ll never cut me off.”
“Yeah? What are you talking about, then?” Though I already knew.
“You and I, Brad. We’re connected. We’ll always be connected. Someday, we’ll have that baby that was stolen from us in high school.”
“No, we won’t.”
Her miscarriage had been tragic, but it had also been a blessing in disguise. I didn’t want to be bound to Wendy through a child. If I could excise her from my life with a sharp scalpel, I would, and I’d live with the scar, no matter how deep.
And it would be deep.
“Oh, we will. You can’t avoid destiny, Brad.”
“My destiny lies with someone else.”
“Daphne?” She shook her head. “There’s so much you don’t know.”
“I know everything.”
“About her year in London?”
I didn’t want to discuss Daphne with Wendy, but I couldn’t resist shoving it in her face. “She told me all about it.”
“Then you know she wasn’t actually in London.”
“As I said, she told me all about it.”
“That’s sweet. Really. But there’s no way she told you all about it. There are things even she doesn’t recall.”
“What the hell are you talking about? If you know something, you better fucking tell me.”
“Sorry, you set the rules, so you get to live by them. You said no more deals. You want to know the truth about your sweet little slut? You won’t get it out of me. Besides, it’s not my story to tell.” She turned and flounced toward the doorway. “Oh! Looks like you have another visitor.” Wendy walked away.
And Daphne stood in my doorway.
Chapter Fifty-One
Daphne
Nausea coiled in my belly like a snake. Slowly it wound its way up my esophagus.
Why was she here?
Why was I here?
Why was life so complicated?
Why couldn’t I just be happy watching the sun rise and set?
Why couldn’t Brad and I have the chance to get to know each other?
“Hey, baby,” he said. “Sorry about her. What are you doing here? Don’t you have class?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m cutting. I… I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. Come in. What’s wrong?”
Oh, God. What wasn’t wrong? I was about to ruin this man’s life.
Positive.
The test had been positive.
Condoms are effective most of the time.
Most of the time.
Should I go out and buy a lottery ticket now? Of course not. I’d already used up my “one-in-a-million chance.” Though it was more like a three-in-one-hundred chance. Kathleen had informed me, after I nearly fainted with shock, that condoms, when used properly, were about ninety-seven percent effective. Had Brad used it effectively? How hard was it to use a condom correctly?
I walked slowly into Brad’s condo. “You’re alone, right?”
“Yeah. Sorry about Wendy, but she’s out of our hair now.”
I nodded. I didn’t care about Wendy. In light of my present situation, Wendy was the