“We’re all okay,” Erika answered, hoping his concern didn’t appear too focused on her. No one knew they were dating, and she wanted to keep it that way for now. Things were complicated enough with Brock to add her relationship with Mark to the mix.
“My receptionist thought—” He exhaled deeply. “I’m glad no one is hurt.”
Erika handed Danny’s mother over to the clinic nurse, who hauled her away to meet with the psychiatric staff.
“I have a situation here,” Erika told Mark.
“Yeah, right. I’ll let you get things under control.” He peered over her shoulder in the direction of Danny’s loud protests.
Ginnifer appeared, ushering the last patients of the day back into their exam rooms. The ruckus had them peeking out of their rooms. The security officers’ radios were squawking, heightening the scene.
“It’s crazy,” Erika told Mark. “I’ll explain later.”
He dropped his voice. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” Still a little shaky, she offered a weak smile. “Really. Don’t worry.”
He watched her, reluctant to go until the scene had been cleaned up.
Two security officers burst through the door of the clinic, pulling a stretcher along with them. They made a racket, hitting furniture as they navigated through her waiting room. The room was filled with tables and chairs and other comforts. It wasn’t designed for driving stretchers with uncooperative wheels through it. It wasn’t until Erika and Mark started moving the chairs out of the way that she noticed Brock standing near the door.
“I’m glad you all are all right,” Mark said, immediately going into concerned colleague mode. “I’d better get back to my patients.” He left, acknowledging Brock with a small nod.
Brock stepped up to her. In the middle of all the bedlam, he made the chaos go quiet. His controlled presence brought calm, helping her to manage her emotions. Immaculately dressed as usual in dark blue slacks, off-white shirt, blue tie, and crisp lab coat, he loomed over her, wearing an expression of curiosity and concern. Watching the rough treatment necessary to get Danny controlled made her heart break.
“Security told me about the call,” he said evenly. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Danny again?”
“He stopped his meds. His mother brought him in.”
“Erika,” he breathed. He had told her to transfer Danny to another physician. One who could physically handle him when he became violent.
“I should get back. Security will need help getting him to emergency.”
“And you’re going to lift him?” Brock raised a brow.
“I want to medicate him so he’ll calm down.”
“You’re shaking.” He gripped her shoulders, letting his hands cascade slowly down her arms. The gesture relaxed her, despite the noises projecting from the back of the clinic.
“He’s scared.”
Brock watched her, his eyes going soft behind the gold rims of his glasses. His shoulders shifted as he exhaled. He knew how much she cared for her patients, and Danny’s erratic behavior didn’t change her feelings. “C’mon, I’ll help hold him while you give him the injection.”
CHAPTER 6
Brock sat in his Zephyr outside the nondescript building he knew was Michigan Cryogenics. He’d cancelled his other appointment, so this was his last chance to collect his sperm before he started radiation therapy. The risk of genetic defects and sterility made his visit a necessity. He struggled with indecision right now, but he had to secure the future possibility of having kids—if he could get Erika back, she’d want to know their dream of a family was still alive.
He’d been able to delay his first radiation treatment by pointing out to Hassan he had to undergo genetic counseling before he stored his sperm. His father had died of testicular cancer, and now he had the diagnosis. If it was inherited, he could pass it on to his kids—if he ever had children.
The genetic counseling had been inconclusive, finding he was at higher risk than the general population, as would be his children, at getting cancer. Without the ability to test his father, the counselor couldn’t be more specific. As a physician, he wasn’t a genetic specialist, but he’d known the basics, and he knew he needed his father alive for the testing to be conclusive. In a way, the counseling sessions had been a stalling tactic. The surgery was inevitable, but the idea of it was surreal. Even knowing his inherited risk, he’d never really believed he’d get the disease and have to get half of his manhood removed.
This would be his first visit over the next two weeks. He needed to store at least five ejaculates to increase his odds of success, because of the inconsistencies of a woman’s ovulation cycle. Between gathering samples he had to remain abstinent for forty-eight hours. Abstaining was the easiest part of the whole ordeal. He’d been celibate for seven months, not once desiring another woman since leaving Erika. His gut tightened as an unwanted thought entered his brain—he wondered if his wife had practiced abstinence with the eye doctor.
Involuntary sterilization. Brock had stared at the words for hours after scheduling his first radiation treatment. The removal of his right testicle would leave him with one functioning testicle, but radiation therapy could cause temporary or permanent sterilization—he wouldn’t know which, if either, would happen to him until after his treatment. He had to forget his embarrassment and his pride, and do this for Erika. Hadn’t they talked about starting a family as soon as her practice was more stable? When his mother was settled and fully recovered from her hip surgery? They wanted two kids, maybe three, and had planned to raise them with old-fashioned values and grand ambitions.
The first time they’d discussed having kids was on their honeymoon. “You’re beautiful,” he’d told her. They were lying in bed nude, enjoying the sensation of bare skin to bare skin as he held her against his chest. “I want a daughter with your expressive eyes.”
“And your determination and strength,” she added. “We’ll have two.”
“The oldest must be a boy,” he added, watching curiously as her petite frame slipped down the length of his body.
“Who is his father in every way.”
A fissure of pride ripped through his heart. All machismo was gone when he was alone and intimate with Erika. It was about soaking up her compassion, reeling in the love she offered so freely. He fought to hold his composure as he drowned in unfamiliar emotions, while Erika, who enjoyed giving love as much as she enjoyed receiving it, was in a playfully giddy mood.
She gathered pineapple rings off the abandoned dinner tray with her fingers. “When should we get started?” she asked.
He folded his arms beneath his head, his eyes on the ceiling as he dreamed of their future. “We should get you settled in your practice first.”
“We did get married suddenly.” She giggled with happiness.
“You don’t regret it, do you?” He held his breath as he waited for an answer. He’d known Erika was a perfect fit for him from the first time they’d had a conversation, but this was the first time he doubted his value to her. Hurting her, disappointing her would crush him.
“Hell, no.”
It was the first and last time he’d ever heard her curse. He smiled at how awkward the word sounded coming from her, a woman with such a sweet disposition just entering a room made preexisting tension dissipate.
Something tightened around his penis. “What are you doing?” His head bobbed up to see her forcing the pineapple rings down