Page 121 of My Fiancé's Brother

“Domestic gone bad. You?”

“Paperwork on an attempted assault. You'll never guess who they caught.”

“Who?”

“The throat slayer.”

I stiffened and raised my head. Alert and listening.

“No shit! Some lady finally have a 45 in her purse?”

“No, get this. Some woman is attacked. Her dog runs back to her place, and her friend goes looking for her. The guy is a fucking Navy SEAL.”

“You're shitting me.”

“So this SEAL fucking destroys this guy. The girl says she saw him only hitting her assailant’s face, but both his arms were broken, fifteen bones broken in his hands, nine of his ribs. His nose was broken in eight places. His jaw was broken in six places. There was nothing left of his face. Then Navy SEAL guy carries the woman back to her place, and he dragged this guy behind him like the piece of garbage he is. Doctors said his pants were down and they'll be picking gravel out of his dick for weeks.”

“No shit.” The guy laughed.

“The Navy SEAL dude? Had a couple scrapes on his knuckles.”

“Any charges against him?”

“Not even close. The chief of police came down and shook his hand. Thanked him for his civic duty.”

“How’s the girl?”

“She got lucky. No rape. Just beat up. We’re going to Ducky’s later to celebrate. If I can find the SEAL dude, I'm going to invite him.”

“Count me in. See you later.”

“You bet.”

I turned and looked up at Jackson. Green eyes looked down at me. I struggled to articulate my thoughts. The curtain whipped open, and the doctor observed the two of us lying on the bed together with Jackson’s arms wrapped around me.

“So are you the boyfriend?”

He shook his head.

“I have to talk to your friend here for a moment, and then you can take her home.”

Jackson lifted me up, sat me on the bed and with one last look at me, disappeared around the corner. She watched him walk away, and then she shut the curtains.

“We got your urine sample back. No blood in the urine,” she pushed her glasses off her face.

I nodded. “Okay.”

“But we do have high levels of hCG,” she looked at me like I should know what this meant.

I shrugged.

“Human chorionic gonadotropin, also known as hCG, is a hormone produced by the placenta after implantation.”

My mouth parted. Thinking. “Placenta?”

“You’re pregnant.”

I felt dizzy. She caught me and helped me place my head between my legs. Her soft hand rubbed my back. “I take it this is a shock.”

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