Page 92 of Mercy
“Very well, I’ll clear my schedule and I’ll leave.”
“Thank you,” he stands and extends his hand for me to shake.
“I’ll see you at your house.”
I walk out of the room, and thoughts race through my head. What the hell is she thinking? You can’t get cancer and decide not to treat it. Dead women can’t have fucking babies. I love her, but boy, does she piss me off. Patients like Ivy would love the option to have surgery and be done with it.Mercy is being a spoiled little brat. You don’t choose to die to save the idea of becoming a mother. I will not go through this again.
After clearing my schedule, I head out, but Gloria stops me. “When will you be back, doctor?”
“I’m not sure.”
If I can somehow talk her into having this surgery, there is no way I’ll leave her side. She’ll be coming home with me so that I can take care of her. My heart pounds from the mere thought of seeing her again. Fuck, I miss her so much. I’m torn between beating her ass for being so stupid and kissing her.
Thirty-Three
MERCY
I’m gettingtired of my dad yelling at me for being stupid and reckless. Although, that’s easier to take than my mom’s constant crying as if I’m already dead. I’ve gone to a few fertility clinics to try and get pregnant. They’ve all turned me down because it’s irresponsible to get a woman with cancer pregnant. I stopped taking my pills, and my next plan was to find a random guy to fuck and get pregnant. I want a baby. I know it sounds insane, but I want this so much. The thought of having sex with any man other than Liam makes me physically ill. There will need to be a lot of alcohol involved for me to go through with it. I need children.
I call Ivy because, damn I miss her. Her little smiling face greets me, making my heart smile.
“Can you come back now?”
“I wish I could, sweet girl. I will as soon as I can, okay?”
She blows me a kiss, and my heart skips a beat before I blow one back.
“I have to go, Abby is here.”
I smile, “Okay sweetheart.”
I’m sitting in bed reading a book when I hear his heavy steps on the stairs. My dad is coming to scream some more as if it will do any good. He knocks on the door, which is odd. My dad never knocks.
“Come in.”
The door opens, and it’s not my dad.
“Liam,” I say, as my hand goes to my heart which is now beating rapidly, I think it might burst.
There’s a softness in his gaze, but it vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared.
He walks over to me and sits on the edge of my bed.
“You should go. My dad will be back anytime. He’ll kill you if he sees you.”
He rubs his jaw, he’s stressed, “Baby girl, tell me what I should do with you, I’m torn.”
“What?”
His fingers grip my thigh painfully, “I can’t decide, should I kiss those beautiful lips or spank your ass until it bleeds for being so fucking stupid.”
He knows. Oh my God, how?
I look down at my book because I can’t look at him.
Grabbing my chin with his thumb and forefinger, he tilts my head back, “You will look at me when I’m speaking to you. Now tell me, baby girl, what should I do?”
“Liam, I think you should go.”
