Page 38 of Delayed Penalty

“Put it all on here, and please, ensure the name is changed. She is not, nor will she ever be, Avery Humphreys,” Harris says, pulling me into his side as the lady looks down at the card and I just shrug and nod.

She passes me the rest of the intake paperwork and asks us to go have a seat where we wait in a thankfully nearly empty waiting room. There’s another couple waiting by the door, who are clearly nearing the end of their pregnancy, a single girl there reading theWhat To Expect When You’re Expectingbook, and a gentleman over by the fish tank looking down at his phone.

Fuck. Thatgentlemanis Peter.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” I whisper, pulling Harris’s hand as I turn away from him.

“Who?” Harris asks, his eyes scanning the room until they see him, his jaw tightens as his honey brown eyes darken, until they’re molten chocolate, nearly black and I can tell he’s pissed. “I’ll kill him,” he seethes, already walking in his direction.

But Peter doesn’t notice him right away, he’s too busy smirking down at his phone, probably texting some woman who hasn’t figured out he’s scum yet, all while sitting in the waiting room for my fucking appointment. Slimy piece of shit.

“Harris, stop,” I say, grabbing his hand before he can make it over there, knowing damn well Peter will lose his shit if he sees Harris. “Let me talk to him.”

He turns, but he doesn’t look like he agrees, not that it matters at this point though because Peter is now shooting daggers in our direction.

Just fucking dandy.

No longer wasting any time, I walk over to Peter. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here for our appointment,” he says smugly, standing up and crossing his arms like he belongs here.

I hate this man.

“We don’t have an appointment,” I protest, Harris’s hand tightening on my shoulder and I can tell Peter notices his hand by the way his eyes narrow on us. But at this point… I think I might just be out of fucks to give. “Ihave an appointment, Peter. You should leave.”

“I have every right to be here. It’s my insurance that you’re so lucky to be on, it’d be a shame if that were to be canceled. But I mean, by the looks of your company, you might be out of a job and your insurance.”

I freeze, my feet planted in place as fear trickles up my spine.

“Excuse me?” Harris seethes from behind me, his arm firm on my shoulder as he moves me to the side, stepping in front of me to come face to face with Peter. But I just let it happen, still unable to move or speak.

“She heard me,” Peter growls, his jaw clenched as he stands across from me, his fists clenched at his sides like he’s one wrong move away from losing it. “If this is the choice she’s making. If she’s choosing you, she’s finished. I’ll ruin her career. I’ll ruin her life. She won’t have a leg to stand on if—” Peter starts, but his eyes widen as Harris takes two quick steps toward him, backing him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around his throat like he does this all the time.

I look around, but thankfully the other two people have already gone back and the receptionist is watching me with sad, knowing eyes. What she thinks she knows, I have no idea, because the reality is probably way more fucked.

“I’m not even sure why you’re here. None of this involves you, it’s a conversation for my fiancée and me at our baby’s appointment.”

“See, that’s where you have it wrong. None of this involves you. She’s not your fiancée, it’s not your baby, and as for the rest of it? Do your worst. But I promise I’ll make you regret each and every move you make against us.”

“You fucking whore!” Peter screeches as Harris steps closer to him, the reality of the situation must be sinking in because Peter’s eyes widen further, something that seems an awful lot like fear in his eyes.

Out of the corner of my eyes I think I see the nurse pick up the phone, probably calling for security since Peter doesn’t know how to not cause a scene, and I’m immediately embarrassed. I was already nervous about today; I mean, hell, I feel like if we were married it’d be weird as hell to tell someone you’re pregnant. It’s like advertising that you had sex. Which is obvious when people are married, but damn, telling the entire world feels a little invasive.

Can I switch doctors already?

Looking back at Harris, I see he’s gone deadly still, even his breathing has slowed, and I can feel the danger radiating from him. This is a version of Harris I’m not used to. A version I know he’s always saved for his time on the ice, but seeing it in person, it’s more terrifying than I could have imagined.

But in some sick and twisted way, I’ve never felt safer. Unlike Peter, Harris has never made me question if I was safe and protected, he only made me question if I was worthy of his love, which might’ve actually fucked me up worse but who’s keeping score.

“I’d be really fucking careful about what your next words are if I were you,” Harris grits out.

For once in your life, be fucking smart, Peter.

“Or what? You gonna fuck my whore of a fiancée again? Because if the bitch is?—”

“I fuck up guys twice your size on the ice just for breathing too loud, I’d watch how you talk about my girl because I’ll have zero regrets for crushing your fucking windpipe,” Harris says calmly, his grip on Peters throat tightening just enough that I can see his face started to pinken, a flash of worry in his eyes buthe’s too stupid to back down yet. “Unfortunately for you, Peter, I do have a baby on the way, withmyfiancée, and I’m sure as fuck not about to waste that time behind bars.”

I notice security back behind the receptionist, but they stay out of view as she waves them off. Seems like I’m not the only one intrigued with how this is going to play out, especially with Harris calling me his fiancée?

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