Page 44 of Bound By Blood and Lies

The doctor turns his attention back to me, his polished shoes carrying him a step closer. The quiet sound of them against the carpet seems louder than it should be as each step lands deep in my chest instead of the room. My breathing begins to pick up, the rhythm turning shallow and uneven as the reality of what he’s here to do presses in from all sides. In a few minutes I’m going to know, and the thought makes my pulse jump painfully against my ribs.

I’m not ready for that.

I can’t be.

“You’re not touching me,” I spit the moment he moves within reach.

He stops mid-step. His confidence slips and his eyes flick sideways toward Longstaff, silently checking in with the realauthority in the room. Longstaff lets out a sigh from the window. When he turns to face me, the softness is gone. His mouth settles into a thin line, and the calm in his posture shifts into something far less patient. One hand slips from his pocket as he straightens and steps towards me.

“Fae, we can either tie you down or you can do this willingly, but I will be finding out before I leave.”

I drag my gaze away from Longstaff. The doctor takes that as permission to move. He approaches slowly. When he stops in front of me, he produces a small plastic cup and holds it out, giving it an unnecessary shake in front of my face.

“Urine sample first.”

I stare at it.

I know what I’m supposed to do. I know I need to stand up, take the cup, walk into that bathroom and do exactly what he’s asking before Longstaff’s patience runs out. The logic is there, but my body refuses to cooperate. My arms feel heavy where they rest against the chair as pins and needles spread slowly through them. I can’t seem to make them move at all. My gaze lifts slowly to the doctor. Tears sting behind my eyes and my lip trembles traitorously. I hate that he sees it. I hate that any of them see it. The doctor doesn’t react. He simply waits with the plastic cup held steadily in front of me. The silence stretches long enough that I feel Longstaff’s attention settle back onto me from across the room. I don’t need to look at him to know he is irritated.

Eventually, I drag a slow breath into my lungs and force my arms to move. They feel heavier than cement as I reach forward and take the cup from his hand. The doctor gestures toward the bathroom with a flick of his head. I stand before starting toward the ensuite with the cup clenched tightly and my thoughts spinning faster with every step. When I reach the doorway, I throw a sharp glare over my shoulder where Longstaff hoverslike a shadow before stepping inside and trying to disappear. I reach back to shut the door but Longstaff stops it.

“Ah, ah, ah.” His hand catches the door, holding it open. “You’ll do it in front of me, Fae.”

The bathroom suddenly feels too small with both of them standing there. I don’t move. I’ve been chained to walls. I’ve been beaten. I’ve had men decide what happens to my body for weeks now. Yet somehow this feels worse. This feels deliberate, like Longstaff has chosen this moment not because it’s necessary, but because he knows exactly how degrading it will be. I think about refusing again. I imagine throwing the cup across the room and watching it crack against the wall just to see how quickly that calm expression disappears from Longstaff’s face.

Instead, I take a deep breath and place the cup on the marble counter beside the toilet before I hook my thumbs into the waistband of the sleep shorts. The fabric slides down my hips before pooling around my ankles, and I feel the heat of humiliation creep up the back of my neck. I lower myself onto the toilet, the chain shifting against my ankle as I position the cup beneath me.

And then nothing happens.

The muscles in my stomach tighten under the weight of their eyes, my bladder locks as if it understands. I don’t need to look at Longstaff to know his gaze hasn’t left me. My breathing begins to pick up despite my best efforts to control it. Of course it would be like this. My body choosing this moment to betray me again. I close my eyes and focus on the simple act of breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

Eventually, the pressure in my bladder wins. A thin stream finally breaks the silence and the sound of it hitting the plastic cup echoes through the bathroom. Each drop is a humiliating reminder of exactly how powerless I am right now. When Ifinally force myself to open my eyes again, Longstaff is standing exactly where he was before. Satisfaction sits in his eyes openly as his lips curl at the edges of his mouth like he’s just witnessed something deeply entertaining. I look away from him. Once the cup is full enough, I pull my shorts back up with stiff fingers and stand.

The sample feels strangely heavy in my hand as I carry it back into the bedroom.

Dr Harrow is already pulling on a pair of gloves. The latex snaps softly as he takes the sample from me. From a small case, he retrieves a testing strip and dips it into the liquid before setting it down on a sterile pad beside the tray. He leaves it there to develop before turning back toward me.

“You can sit down,” he says softly.

I don’t argue. The fight seems to have drained out of me as my body moves on auto pilot and I lower myself back into the seat. Dr Harrow opens his bag again and begins laying out more supplies. An elastic band appears in his hands and before I can react, he loops it around my upper arm, pulling it tight enough that the pressure in my veins shifts beneath my skin.

“Relax your arm,” he murmurs.

I stare past him instead of answering.

His fingers press against the inside of my elbow as he searches for a vein. When he finds it, the needle slides into my skin with a small, sharp pinch. Compared to everything else my body has endured over the last few weeks; the sting barely registers. One vial fills quickly with dark red. Then another. The plastic tubes fill steadily before he swaps them out and finally withdraws the needle and presses a square of gauze against the puncture.

By the time he turns back toward the tray, the testing strip has finished developing. He studies it for only a second but Istudy him for what feels like a lifetime. I lick my cracked lips as he looks at me and then to Longstaff.

“She’s pregnant,” he says calmly. “I will run some more tests from her blood.”

“How far along?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“And paternity?”