Chapter Thirteen

Brooklyn

The doctor pulls the speculum out of me and moves out from between my thighs, standing up and removing her gloves while her assistant bags and tags the vials of blood, as well as the swabs that she just took, to go to the lab. 
“What pharmacy would you like me to send your prescription to?” she asks, her hands hovering over the laptop keyboard. Wanting to get it as soon as possible, and knowing that isn’t very likely with my usual pharmacy, I ask, “Does the clinic have an on-site pharmacy?”
“It does,” she confirms, then asks, “Would you like me to send it there?”
Feeling as if another box is about to be checked off of my mental list, I feel an unimaginable amount of relief as, with a nod, I say, “Yes, please.”
“Here is this also,” the assistant says as she hands me a brown paper sack. “Unfortunately, we have too many women who come in here who have expected the guy to be prepared, but *we* should be prepared too. Birth control doesn’t protect against STIs.”
I take the bag, crumpling it up between my hands as I give a *are you fucking kidding me* look to Chas, who blessedly agreed to stay with me for the entire visit, just staying by my head when the doctor was doing her business between my thighs.
As we leave the patient room, we stop at reception for my receipt, then head to the pharmacy located down another hallway. I get the meds, the pharmacist going over how to take them and some possible side effects that I may have, and then we retrace our steps back to the lobby.
After what the nursing assistant said earlier, I feel like everyone in the lobby knows why I’m here and is judging me, just like she had. 
I glance about the room, my eyes taking everyone in, only to find that not a single person is even looking in my direction. They’re all too absorbed in whatever they have going on in their own lives.
However, just as I think that, my gaze lands on one person's face that I have no desire to see, and can’t even begin to fathom what they’re doing here. Unless…
I can feel my face flame red with anger as I barge across the room, covering the distance quickly.
“You,” I seethe, stopping in front of him and catching him off guard. “It’s bad enough that you’re just like the rest, using me as you’re own person cum bucket—thanks for *that,* by the way. I just love having to get fucking STI testing done and take emergency contraceptives, since you couldn’t be bothered to wrap your shit, cause I definitely don’t need or *want* to get knocked up by someone like *you*, but know you’re following me?
*So much for no one paying me any attention or judging me, since it’s all out there now for the whole room to know.*
Jackson quickly gets to his feet, grasps hold of my arm with one hand and tries to put his other on my shoulder to steer me out of the lobby, while through clenched teeth, he grits, “This isn’t the time or the place, Brooklyn.”
“The hell it isn’t. Are you afraid of what people are going to think?” Hypocrit, I know. “Maybe you should of thought—”
“I didn’t fucking think, damn it,” he hisses as soon as the lobby door shuts behind us. “No matter what you seem to believe, I didn’t plan on what happened, happening. I wanted to *help* you. I still want to help you.”
“Yeah, help yourself into my panties,” I snarl, not buying the bullshit that he’s trying to sell.
“No, damn it,” he curses, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t offer you a place to stay so that I could fuck you. I came to the room after my shower to see what you had decided and that when I found you…” he trails off, clenching his jaw and fists at the same time. “I got caught up in the moment, I didn’t think about anything else, and by the time I did, I tried to explain, wanting to make sure you understood that us having sex was never my intention.” His eyes, his entire demenear is begging for me to believe him.
But I only know what I know.
“You didn’t use a condom,” I state, deciding to stick to the facts that he can’t dispute or excuse.
“I realized that this morning,” he says with a shrug, suddenly sounding completely defeated. “That’s why I’m about to have a huge ass cotton swab shoved up my dick.”
*I thought that as girls, we had it bad, but what he’s describing,* holy fucking ouch!
I have literal chills and my stomach turns just imagining them shoving something like that up inside his marvelous dick.
And fuck if it wasn’t marvelous.
A solid ten inches in length and so thick, I could barely get my hand halfway around it, and that ladder that he’s sporting, *fuck*.
My nipples harden and chills, now for a completely different reason, cover my body, my pussy beginning to throb as I remember just how good he felt.
Suddenly, the door to the lobby opens, saving me from my wayward thoughts and possibly making anymore bad decisions, and Chas pokes her head out, calling Jackson’s name.
“Jackson,” just before he turns to her, she shoots me a wink but manages to school her face by the time he’s facing her.
“Chastity?” he asks, sounding surprised to see her. “Everything okay?”
I notice how his voice, his *everything* changes as he straightens up, adjusting his pants and giving her his full attention.
“Oh, yeah,” she says waving him off. She nods over his shoulder towards me and says, “I’m not here for me.”
Jackson looks from Chas, then halfway turns so that he can look at me, as if trying to figure something out, before looking back at Chas, when she says, “They’re calling your name in here.”
He nods, then turns back to me, grasps both of my hands in his much larger ones and says, “I have to go but please meet me at my apartment later, so that we can talk this out.” Then, as an after thought he adds, “Chastity has my number,” before giving my hands a final squeeze. Then, slipping past Chas, he goes back into the lobby.
I watch him as he walks to a different door than the one that I’d earlier gone through, a male nurse greeting him as he goes back.
“You’re not going to call him. Are you?”
“No,” I tell her honestly, having already made my decision. “I’m not.”
“He’s actually a good guy, believe it or not,” she says, clearly on team *Joke*—which is funny since that’s exactly what the idea of he and I are. 
A joke.
“I’d rather not.” I take the first pll as we’re walking out, and wash it down with water. 
I nearly choke on both the pill and the water when she says, “I think he likes you.”
Between fits of coughing, I shout, “What,” cough. “In the hell,” cough. “Gave you that,” cough. “Idea.”
She just gives me a look that I know all too well.
“I’m not,” cough. “Kidding you. Why?”
Finally, feeling like I can breath again, I guzzle down the rest of the water, hoping the pill actually made it’s way down the correct pipe.
*Does it still work like it’s supposed to if it doesn’t?*
“I’ve known Jackson Jones for a few years now. He’s all work and absolutely *no* play.” I quirk a brow, clearly not believing her bullshit. But she just continues, “In all the years I’ve lived at those apartments, I’ve never seen or heard of him having a woman over. And he rose through the ranks, becoming a detective in the Intelligence unit faster than any other cop period. There’s no way that he’s been out there fucking around, *his life is work.*”
“But he literally picked me up from Teddy’s yesterday, Chas!” I tell her, needing her to understand. “He showed up on Teddy’s doorstep with a bag of drugs in tow, ready to make a deal—*I* was that deal.”
She shrugs and shakes her head, dismissing everything that I’m telling her. “I’m telling you, you have it all wrong,” she says as she opens the door to her beat up maroon Ford Focus.
Weirdly, a small, so small that it’s almost not even worth thinking about, but a small part of me kind of wishes that she was right but, “I don’t think I do.”
“He had to be working,” she mutters. Then, her eyes go wide as she turns to me and asks, “Did he use his real name?”
“Did he—what? What kind of—” but then I remember Teddy calling him, “Monroe. He went by Monroe.”
“Told you,” she brags, pointing her index finger at me and dancing in her seat. “Definitely doing an undercover job then.” Then, a moment later she snorts a laugh and says, “He so *did* his undercover job, too.”