Rescue Me

VERONICA

~“I’m wrapped up and

“I’ll give it a shot, but no promises,” Kyle said, his grin cocky. “I mean, I’m a big deal now—”

“Wow, aren’t you just full of yourself,” Amy retorted, rolling her eyes.

Amy and Nick were sitting together, but there was a noticeable gap between them. Nick’s arm wasn’t draped around Amy like it usually was, and Amy’s petite frame was stiff.

Her hazel eyes were red-rimmed, and her short, chestnut hair was more disheveled than usual.

I hadn’t seen her this morning, which meant she’d likely spent the night at Nick’s frat house. But something must’ve gone wrong between them.

Nick didn’t look too great either. His wavy, chocolate-brown hair was a mess, his gray eyes held a mix of frustration and desperation—a feeling I knew all too well.

He was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering to look his best. That was unusual for Nick, who was always so put together.

Amy always said that was one of the things she loved about him. And if that wasn’t enough, his tall, athletic frame seemed somehow deflated.

The tension between them was palpable, and it started to eat at me.

They were the ~It~ couple. They were the golden pair. They were this unbreakable, long-term couple that nothing could tear apart.

Sure, they’d had their share of fights and disagreements since they started dating, but they’d never looked like this.

I just hoped it wasn’t as serious as it seemed.

But it looked like I was the only one who noticed. Everyone else was busy showering Kyle with praise for his achievement, while Amy and Nick were unusually quiet.

After Kyle finished bragging about his band’s upcoming concert, it was Santana’s turn.

“I got scouted,” she announced with a wide, toothy grin. “By a modeling agency. I think I’m going to go for it.”

“No way,” Laura said, her eyes wide.

“Way,” Santana sat up straighter in her chair. “I’m going to be a model, bitches!”

“Congrats,” Ransom said, grinning widely. “You definitely have the look of a model.”

“Aw, thank you,” Santana said, blowing him a kiss. “I always wanted a gay friend who could tell me how fabulous I look.”

“Shut up,” Warren said, laughing. “Besides, Ransom’s right. You’ll be great.”

“It’s a good opportunity,” Nick chimed in suddenly, giving Santana a weary look. “I hope it works out for you.”

Santana gave him a curious look. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed the ~It~ couple’s odd behavior.

“Yeah, I hope so too,” she said slowly, as if trying to figure out what was going on.

Next up was Laura. She shot me a sideways glance, and I knew what she was about to announce.

I gave her an encouraging nod, and she took a deep breath, capturing everyone’s attention.

“I’m pregnant.” She dropped the bomb.

Until she said that, I was okay. I’d even thought about how she might say it. But hearing her tell everyone she was pregnant brought back the events of yesterday.

Suddenly, I found it hard to breathe, my fear and anxiety choking me.

Luckily, no one noticed me. Everyone was staring at Laura, who was beaming at them all.

“I’m keeping the baby,” she said in the stunned silence. “I’m going to raise it. My Aunt Mila agreed to help me.”

Support. What would happen if I was really pregnant? Who would support me?

Not my prim and proper mother, that’s for sure.

Not Stephen, since he wasn’t exactly thrilled with me.

Jax? No. I wouldn’t want to depend on him, because not only would he be furious that I was carrying some Russian guy’s baby, but he would also dump me so hard, I’d never recover.

I didn’t think I could trust Oliver with this either, because we’d just started building our brother-sister relationship.

My friends? Out of the question. I could never ask them to help with something like that.

The conclusion was harsh. I would have no one’s support if I was pregnant and decided to keep the baby.

But the pregnancy test was negative. I wasn’t pregnant. But I could be. It was still too early to know. I could have a baby growing inside me right now, and I wouldn’t know.

Frey was right. I needed to see a doctor. And I would see him today, before my appointment with Dr. Miller.

“Veronica? It’s your turn.”

Was it already? I blinked, and saw that Laura was smiling widely. Apparently, she’d been congratulated and accepted, like I knew she would, and I missed it, because I was lost in my thoughts.

I needed to pull myself together.

“Ah, yeah,” I said, and lowered my gaze to the table. Frey told me to open up to people, but could I do that so soon?

“Well, considering you’ve been discharged from the hospital, I guess you have a lot to share,” Kyle said, giving me a somewhat concerned look that reminded me too much of Jax.

It just hit me that there wasn’t much of a difference between Kyle and Jax in my life; both wanted me for my body.

Both wanted me to be their fuck-buddy at some point. Both felt this unbelievable attraction to me. The one thing that was different was that my mind was fixated on Jax and not Kyle.

“Veronica?” Santana prompted, and I realized I was daydreaming again.

Pushing all the thoughts deep down, I somehow managed to say, “I’ve started working on me. I have someone to mentor me. I’m good.”

“You don’t look so good,” Laura pointed out, her face creased with worry for me. “You’re a little pale, in fact. Are you sure you’re as good as you claim?”

No. I wasn’t good. Nausea hit me, and I jumped up from my chair and ran to the bathroom, where I threw up for the second time that day.

After a quick ten-minute freshen up, I was ready to head back to the table. But Laura and Santana had other plans, cornering me in the restroom.

Santana wrinkled her nose, asking, “What’s up with you?” Then she sniffed the air. “You just threw up, didn’t you?”

“I’m okay,” I tried to reassure them, but I felt a chill creeping in.

Laura wasn’t buying it. “Stop saying you’re fine when you’re clearly not!” she snapped. “Spill it. What the hell is going on?”

“I’m not feeling well,” I half-lied, “I need to see a doctor.”

Laura immediately offered to accompany me, but Santana raised her hand to stop her. “No, I’ll go. You stay here, Laura. Pregnant women shouldn’t be around sick people.”

So, without much of a goodbye to the others, Santana whisked me off to the nearest hospital.

Once there, Santana did most of the talking. When I finally got to see the doctor and explained my symptoms, he asked me to lie down and said he wanted to take a blood sample.

That’s when I snapped. “No! No blood tests, no anything! I’m not fucking pregnant!”

“Miss Tanner, we need to confirm that. Home pregnancy tests can sometimes be inaccurate—”

“No!” I shouted. “Don’t you dare come near me with that needle, you sick fuck!”

“Veronica!” Santana was shocked at my outburst. “Just let him take the blood sample, for God’s sake!”

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed as Dr. Schneider approached with the needle. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

I knew I was being irrational. I knew I was on the verge of a breakdown, but I couldn’t shake the thought. The thought that if I was pregnant…if I was really pregnant…

No. Just no.

Suddenly, something inside me shattered. Something I didn’t even know was there until it was gone. “Frey, I need Frey!”

“She’s losing it,” Santana said, stunned. “Just take her blood.”

“Frey!” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “Frey, please! I need you! I need you now!”

“I can’t just stick a needle in her without her consent, Miss Martino,” Dr. Schneider said, his voice strained.

In a moment of panic, I lashed out, kicking the doctor square in the crotch.

Santana gasped in shock as I jumped off the bed, shoved her aside, and bolted from the room. My thoughts were a jumbled mess and my emotions a whirlwind.

I ran from the hospital, hailed a cab, and headed straight for Frey’s dojo.

When I arrived, I barged in without knocking. To my surprise, the room was filled with children in karate uniforms, all eyes on me as I interrupted their lesson.

“Frey,” I panted, looking at the instructor, “I need Frey.”

I hadn’t even considered that Frey’s dojo would be a functioning martial arts school.

The instructor, wide-eyed, pointed to a door. I marched over, flung it open, and slammed it shut behind me. I was beyond caring. I was a woman on the edge.

Inside was an office. Frey was there, legs propped up on the desk, reading some papers.

He stood up when he saw me, my wild-eyed look telling him all he needed to know.

He came over and wrapped his arms around me.

“I’m here,” he whispered, “I’m here…”

I broke down in his arms for the second time in two days.

“Frey,” I sobbed, clutching his shirt. “I needed you so much…”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, stroking my hair. “I know, and I’m here now.”

“They…blood…pregnant…” I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but he understood. He always understood.

“It’s okay now,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“You’re safe.”

“I need you…” I whispered.

“I’m here…” he said, promising, “I will always be here.”

And just like that, Frey found a place in my heart.