Page 9 of Doctor Holliday

The doctor leaned forward to press her hand on Logan’s belly.

“Are you having a contraction?” she asked. When Logan nodded, the doctor continued, “Breathe. And push.”

Keaton slid his left hand under the girl’s bony thigh to hold her leg up and took her hand in his.

“Squeeze as tight as you can, kid.”

Again, the doctor nodded her approval.

“Relax,” Dr. Holliday said softly. “That was good. You’re crowning. Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“I can see your baby’s head, Logan.”

“I don’t care.”

“We’re gonna do it again, okay? On the next contraction, we’re gonna bear down and push.”

“You’re not doing it.”

Keaton marveled at the kid’s sharp tongue. Scared, but feisty.

“I’m helping you,” Dr. Holliday told her. “I’m gonna help you get this baby out. I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Ain’t your pussy all stuck and hurtin’,” the girl sneered.

“Nope, but I’ve given birth myself, so I know what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t want this baby.”

“Okay.”

Keaton met the doctor’s eyes. His body was frigid with fury—over how this fourteen-year-old girl had come to be lying in his stockroom, legs spread wide, with a baby on the way out of her body. The doctor, on the other hand, seemed completely chill. He understood that she wouldn’t let nerves or stress get to her, but how in the hell could she not want to kill whoever had gotten this kid pregnant?

“You don’t have to keep the baby,” Dr. Holliday said in that soothing, melodic voice. “But we do have to deliver it, okay? I just need you to help me, Logan.”

“Can’t you just get rid of it?”

Keaton wanted to vomit. Was she talking about abortion? He couldn’t wait to get out of there. Couldn’t wait to?—

What?

He didn’t know this girl. Didn’t know who had done this to her. Wasn’t like he had a target to kick the shit out of.

“Nope.” Dr. Holliday shook her head slightly. “We are too far along to do anything but deliver this child.”

Even if Dr. Holliday did a late term abortion, Logan would still have to go through the delivery process—the physical, and Keaton assumed, emotional and mental pain of labor.

“Keaton.”

He snapped his gaze back to the doctor’s.

“I need you to call 911. We’re gonna have to get Logan and the baby to Eastport as soon as this baby is born.”

“But—”

“I’ll be right there with you, Logan,” Dr. Holliday promised Logan. “Okay? I won’t leave you.”

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