Page 76 of Hunted

“Including, but not limited to, my uterus,” I deadpanned. “I’m aware, doctor. When do we start?”

Doctor Rick blinked, evidently taken aback by my blunt candour. “Well, that’s what we’re here to discuss.” He glanced over his shoulder but Beckett refused to entertain him.

He had eyes only for me—and an intense kind of emotion sheltered within them. Not quite hunger, not quite urgency, not quite anxiety, but a cautious mix of all three.

“This is not protocol.” Doctor Rick leaned in, his voice hushed. “And it could see me fired—or worse. But you have a choice to make, Miss Sinclair.”

Brows drawn, I leaned back, away from the whispering doctor. “What do you mean?”

“I can do the surgery and life will continue on as a normal Swallow,” he pressed, leaving no doubt as to his preference on the matter. “Or I can give your handlers the phone number of a woman—a pharmacist I know—who will supply you with birth control off the books.”

I risked a glance at Beckett, still staring intently behind the doctor.

“These pills, if taken at the same time daily, will prevent any unwanted situations⁠—”

“You mean pregnancy. If you’re going so far as to risk losing your job over what I can only assume is a threat on your life”—I shot a glare over the doc’s shoulder—“then please. Speak. Plainly.”

He tilted his head, considering me, glasses still somewhat askew.

Apparently I’d gained a modicum of the good doctor’s respect, because his features softened.

“Very well. Either way, my life is on the line whether I offer this to you or not. If you choose the pills and the Academy finds out, losing my job is the least of my concerns. But had I not offered…” he trailed off, side-eyeing the illustrious Beckett, “then a treating physician wouldn’t be in my job description anymore either.”

“Noted. So—pills or uterus extractus.”

He blinked. “Essentially, yes.”

Well, shit. A choice I’d never expected to be given had landed like a gift in my lap, and I had no clue how to feel about its giver now. An hour ago, you couldn’t have paid me to believe there was a decent bone in Hunter Beckett’s entire body—now I was beginning to wonder if he possessed more than even he cared to acknowledge.

Tears pricked my eyes. Not at the absurd choice before me, but that Hunter Beckett had decided to stake his own career—and life—on giving it to me.

I met his gaze over the doctor’s shoulder. His expression gave nothing away, but his eyes—oh, those jade green irises conveyed a thousand unspoken words.

“I choose the surgery.”

Beckett jerked so hard he headbutted the wall. Pearce and Lockwood startled too, the pair exchanging panicked glances in my periphery—but I paid them no heed, instead directing my words to the man who had somehow given me more than anyone else ever had.

“I have adenomyosis, so a hysterectomy was in my future regardless. It’s the only definitive cure for the disease, which, if you ask me, is a huge lapse in medical science—because the only cure for a disease that affects only women being removal of said uterus and therefore any chance of her bearing her own children is all kinds of fucked up.” I blinked, catching myself mid-rant. The expressions on all four men in the room varied from guilty—Doctor Rick—to fury—Beckett—to sombre and morose—Deklan and Evander.

I cleared my throat before continuing. “This just saves me the years’ worth of pain before I got to that point. It’s a boon, really. A blessing.”

“What about kids?” Beckett asked, voice scratchy like he hadn’t used it in years. “Don’t you want them?”

I shrugged. “In this line of work? I don’t expect to live long enough to want them.”

A flicker of something passed over his face before he shuttered it. “Okay, then.”

“Okay, then,” I echoed, daring to give him a small smile before diverting my attention back to Doctor Rick.

“Thank Christ you said that because I was really not looking forward to explaining this—” His relief was cut short by the firm grip snapping down on his shoulder.

“Explain the procedure, then fucking go do it. The quicker this happens, the quicker we can get her home,” Pearce growled, teeth flashing.

Home was a foreign concept, but I guess that’s where I’d be staying until I could get out of this godsforsaken place—their home. Their apartment. I suppressed a shudder. I couldn’t imagine making that place my home, not after losing so much of myself inside its walls already.

I glanced at Beckett again, still stoically staring across the room.

Maybe it wouldn’t all be bad.