Boarlander Bash Bear 2(19)

Dr. Mallory came in before she’d even had time to shut the door to room three. She carried a tray with an array of supplies and set them on the small counter by the sink. Emerson jerked her gaze away for reasons she didn’t understand. Nothing on it had looked terrifying or painful, but she was having trouble coping with the fact that this was really happening. God, she’d waited so long for this day, and now she was freaking out? Settle down, lunatic.

“Okay,” Dr. Mallory said brightly. “Put the gown on, and we’ll have this done lickety-split.”

“Lickety-split,” Emerson repeated low. Just like that, and she would be done. The wait would begin. A couple of weeks, and she could take a pregnancy test and know if this worked or not. But she had this really strong feeling it would, and she now was at twenty-five percent.

“Oh, and Emerson?” Dr. Mallory asked before she left the room. “You’re making the right decision with this sample. You’ll have a really good chance at a viable, healthy baby. A baby, Emerson. Not an animal.”

With a frown, Emerson asked, “What does that mean?” Her hackles were up but, damn it all, she didn’t like the way Dr. Mallory had said that.

“I mean you will be able to have your baby anywhere and get him any kind of medical insurance and attention because he or she will be normal.” Dr. Mallory shook her head like that should’ve been obvious.

“My child would be normal either way.”

“No, Emerson.” When the doctor’s cheeks flushed red, her freckles disappeared into the color. “If your child was a shifter, it would be a freak. It wouldn’t be natural.” With an irritated sigh, she bustled out of the room and clicked the door closed behind her.

A freak? Stunned and angry, Emerson stared at the wall. Bash sat in that waiting room, just a few plaster barriers away, and he was sweet and caring, and a gentleman. He was no freak, and his children wouldn’t be either. They would be lucky to have a daddy who cared so much about them.

Chest heaving, Emerson dragged her gaze to the stuffed bear in her arms. If she had a baby with a bear in him or her, would it be so bad? Bash had turned out just fine. In fact, every shifter she’d met at Sammy’s seemed completely normal, happy, and content in each other’s company. They hadn’t made her feel other because she was human, even though they were probably made to feel that way all the time.

The long, syringe-like instrument on the tray taunted her. Was that what she needed to have a normal child? She didn’t think so.

Zero percent.

Dr. Mallory knocked and came in. “You aren’t dressed,” she said, her ruddy brows furrowed.

“I can’t do this,” Emerson whispered.

“What?”

“I can’t do this,” she said louder, moving toward the door.

“Emerson—”

“No, you listen to me. You have these judgmental, rude thoughts about shifters, but I love Bash. I love him, and he cares about what happens to me and a child I don’t even have in my belly yet. He bought a damned car seat already. For a human, normal baby. So,” she said, voice shaky and too high-pitched, “maybe you’re the freak, and maybe you just aren’t that nice, Dr. Mallory.” She sidled the shocked looking woman and jogged down the hallway.

“But your sample!” Dr. Mallory called after her.

Emerson threw her an irritated wave over her shoulder. “Keep it.”

She was angry and crying because everything was crumbling apart around her. Emerson stomped her flats against the tile floor and shoved the door to the waiting room open.

Bash was sitting in a chair, long legs outstretched, biting his thumbnail and looking utterly sick. He didn’t want her doing this, but he’d come anyway. He stood in a rush and searched her face, worry slashing across his features.

Without a word, she ran over to him and hugged his neck.

“It’s okay,” he said in a soft, confused tone as he rubbed circles over her back while she soaked his black T-shirt with her tears.

There would be no baby. Not now at least.

A sob wrenched from her throat, and Bash picked her up and carried her out of that clinic like she weighed nothing at all. He didn’t say a word, just set her in the passenger’s seat of his truck and watched as she wiped her cheeks with her fingertips.

“Did it hurt you?” he whispered in a broken voice.

“Promise not to be mad at me,” she murmured.

“I promise. What is it?”

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go through with it. I don’t want a baby like this anymore.”

Bash stood up straight, and his eyes went round. “What do you mean? You don’t have a baby in your belly?”