Chapter 33 With how much I'm sweating, I bet Quincy would like my shirt for her nest. Hopefully, she still wants me, considering she had all her needs met frequently last night by Trigg and Hartley. It's my own damn fault, but she hasn't invited me into her nest, and barging in felt questionable with how hazy she must have been. I got a recap of the events this morning over breakfast, and I'm still annoyed with myself for not at least checking in on her. If I had, I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to keep my head clear. We still have shit to negotiate between us, but overall, I'm hopeful. When the nurse comes to get her, she lets me come back with her for all the initial stuff while Trigg and Hartley stay in the waiting room. They make Quincy pee in a cup, take her blood pressure and temperature, and put her on the scale to determine her weight. I keep my eyes averted like a gentleman, but my fucking heart tries to take flight out of my chest when her small hand wraps in mine while I'm still staring at the wall. I can't help myself. I turn toward her, running my free hand over her cheek and tilting her face up to mine. It seems inappropriate to kiss her while the nurse is waiting, so I brush my lips over her forehead and force myself to pull back. Goddammit. Maybe Trigg isn't as unhinged as I made him out to be, because my head sure is plotting ways to dispose of Hartley and Trigg to ensure I get a significant amount of one-on-one time with Quincy, and fast. We follow the nurse down the hallway, and Quincy leans against my side. "I've never been on this side before," she whispers. "I think this is the hallway with rooms big enough to fit more people." The nurse leads us into a room, and Quincy stands next to the hospital table as she answers a few questions. I try to take up as little space as possible as the nurse steps around us to grab something. She comes back, offering Quincy a gown. "You know the drill. Dr. Lindsay should be in pretty quickly. I'll give you a few minutes to get changed, and I'll bring in the other two from the waiting room once you're done." "Thank you." Quincy smiles politely and waits for the nurse to leave the room before looking up at me. "She checked my cervix at my last appointment, since I'm technically considered high risk, but I'm wondering if that won't be the case anymore." Every time she speaks, it rips at my heart a little more. Yeah, I missed out on some big milestones, but she's faced her own shit too. More than anything, I wish I could have been there to support her. She shrugs. "Now that I have you guys⁠-" "Do you want me to step out while you get changed?" "No, that's okay," she says, dropping the gown and weird-ass paper sheet on the exam table. There are four chairs along the wall of the room, and I move to take a seat in one. Until I see Quincy struggling to get her coat off. Striding back across the room, I help her out of it. "My arms never felt short before I had to contend with a giant baby bump," she grumbles, rubbing the side of her stomach. "It's cute," I assure her, bending to kiss her temple. Fuck if I know who gave me permission to do that, but I swear she's dumping out pheromones like crazy. They make me ache to pull her into my arms and snuggle the hell out of her. It has to be some type of biological response. Quincy smiles shyly over her shoulder. "Thanks, Ridge." I'm hit with the most insane sense of déjà vu, and it's all that look on her pretty face. The Night of The Prologue Steamy hot water beats down on my arms and chest as I help Quincy soap her back. She's so fucking soft in comparison to my calloused skin. It's mind-blowing that she even trusted me enough that she left the bar with me. I'm not a creepy dick, but she has no way of knowing I'm safe. I should have a conversation with her about safety when it comes to unbonded omegas. My job has exposed me to a whole heap of shit that I wish I could forget, but I can understand the average person doesn't comprehend how ugly the world can be. At the same time, I don't want to scare her by warning her how vigilant she needs to be. Quincy is tender in a way I'm not used to. Her boyfriend must not have had many brain cells. She's the kind of woman who dropped everything to take care of her ailing grandmother. It shows how loyal she is and that she's family oriented, both traits I find extremely attractive. I've only known her for four hours, and I'm already daydreaming ways to keep her forever. Her coconut and creamy vanilla scent is everywhere, even managing to drown out the cheap hotel soap. I've never been enamored with the thought of finding an omega of my own. My entire adult life, I've put my career first, but she's the kind of woman I could see myself settling down for. No more last-minute trips to the dregs of the earth to take out some cartel psychopath who doesn't want to play by the rules. No more spending months away from home, tracking a target and learning every second of their daily routine to put an end to them for an insane payday. Hell, I might be bored doing nothing but security contracts, but Leo and Shaw seemed happy enough back when they were working for Senator Callahan. I think I'd adapt quickly if I had someone like Quincy to come home to at the end of the day. The little omega grins over her shoulder at me, and my heart races. She spins to face me, allowing the water to rinse off her soapy back. Her pupils are huge as she runs her hands down my chest. "You're so tall. It's kinda ridiculous." Her teeth dig into her lower lip. "Pick me up, please?" Fuck me. I'm not sure I could deny her anything. She could ask me to carve my heart out, and I'd say, Yes, dear, of course. Here you are. My hands wrap around her ass, and I lift her as she scrambles up, looping her forearm behind my neck. Her wet tits plaster to my chest, and she stretches up, pushing her lips to mine. I should have taken her to my house. My shower is built for someone my size. She seemed skittish about even coming here, and my place is a hike, so it was a nice compromise, but the shower is cramped with both of us. Her naughty little tongue slides around mine, and the scent of her pussy is everywhere, teasing my system into rut. If the shower was tall enough, I'd toss her up onto my shoulders and feast on her cunt right here. Un-fucking-fortunately that's not going to happen, but I turn, trapping her back to the wall. Her nails dig into my throat, and she sobs into the kiss as she grinds her core against my pelvis. My half-hard cock perks up, and my knot throbs, aching to be buried inside her. Can't do that... Condoms are tricky when alphas and omegas are involved. Then again, she mentioned her suppressants also have her birth control all in one. My head is a foggy mess. Fuck her. Don't fuck her. Quincy makes the call for me, reaching between us and gripping my shaft. She guides me through her slick lower lips, and instinct takes over. I move a hand to cradle her skull to protect her from the shower wall and buck up inside her with little thought to anything but breeding her. It's taken several rounds to get her prepped enough to even take this much of my cock, but I'm a giant compared to her. She moans against my lips, and I fuck into her a little too deep. My knot slides inside her opening, swelling to lock us together. My knees shake as we both groan. Alpha instincts are baser as fuck, and my brain screams to bite and breed her. Every tiny movement produces so much pleasure that I lose all rational thought. Present Day Memory is weird. I've replayed that night about a million times. Jerked off to it at least fifty times, and I still couldn't remember any specifics about what we did in the shower, no matter how hard I tried. But that's what happens when the haze of rut takes over. I help Quincy up onto the table, and the guys come in shortly after, but I'm lost in thought. It's confusing how those memories could stay hidden for so long, only to pop up months later. The doctor comes into the room, and I'm still in a daze, but I focus on getting my shit together. Dr. Lindsay introduces herself and focuses on Quincy. She's probably early to mid-thirties with a friendly smile and upbeat energy. "We've got a few new faces," she says, patting Quincy's thigh. She turns to the three of us in our line of uncomfortable chairs, and her eyes widen when she catches sight of Hart. He waves awkwardly. "Hey, Casey, long time no see." My gaze immediately darts to Quincy, and her eyes narrow. Hartley mentioned he grew up around here, and now I'm wondering if he dated the doc way back when. "I never thought I'd see the day," the doctor says, laughing. She focuses on Quincy and continues. "I dated Hartley's best friend all throughout high school, but he never looked twice at anyone." Quincy smiles politely, but I'm convinced she's contemplating how hard it would be to find a new doctor. I shove out of my seat and extend a hand to the woman. "Ridge. Nice to meet you. Just let me know when I can ask questions. I've got a shitload." The doctor laughs, shaking my hand. "I'm so happy you two found each other. It's been Quincy's biggest concern." I really don't like her putting Quincy on the spot, but I release her hand and step over to my baby mama's side. I reach for Quincy, but she's already in the process of linking our fingers. I smile, shake my head, and lean down to kiss her forehead. "First up, we'll take the baby's heart rate and see how you're measuring," Dr. Lindsay says. "Then you can bombard me with all your questions." The low whooshing sound that fills the air as Dr. Lindsay finds the heartbeat makes my damn knees weak. I keep a death grip on Quincy's hand and use my other to record the rapid thumps on my phone. My eyes get misty, and I bite my cheek to keep from bursting into tears. Once she's satisfied that the heartbeat is good, she pulls out a weird measuring tape and palpates around Quincy's stomach. "You just hit thirty-four weeks, and your measurements look great." Dr. Lindsay steps back. "You can help her up." She reaches to the opposite side of the exam table and pulls something, allowing the table to move upright as I help Quincy sit up. "Last night, Quincy had a fever of just shy of 108," Trigg says, not wasting any time. "She was perfuming heavily and experiencing pain and discomfort." The doctor finishes washing her hands and grabs several paper towels. "Did it come down on its own?" "No," Hartley chimes in. "Not even close. She needed to be knotted pretty much all night." Dr. Lindsay smiles, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I should have been more specific. It came down once her physical needs were being met?" "Yes, a bit." Trigg hums. "However, it hovered at 105 for several hours." The doctor grabs the tablet off the counter and begins clicking around. "I see, and you were running a slight temperature at intake. 101.3 isn't considered high for an omega. Any symptoms to indicate you might have picked up a virus? Headache, nausea, sore throat, that type of thing." "No," Quincy says. "I don't think it's a cold or anything like that." "I don't either," Hartley says. "It's happened two out of the last three nights. She gets hot, starts perfuming and begging. It reminds me a lot of what we're told to look out for when an omega is about to go into heat." "That's actually not unusual, especially in unbonded omegas," the doctor says calmly. "Before suppressants were in widespread use, we almost never saw pregnant unbonded omegas. Over the last five or ten years, that has been quietly changing to the point we now have guidelines for how to handle caring for them." She twists toward Quincy once more. "I had a feeling something like this would be coming, just based on your symptoms at our last appointment. It's why I was trying to get you to commit to the Alpha Pheromone Therapy." "Okay," I growl, shoving my phone away. "But what does that mean for Quincy and the baby?" Quincy squeezes my hand, running her thumb over mine, like she's trying to offer me comfort. "It means, I'm relieved Quincy now has the three of you," Dr. Lindsay says. "Her biology is making its needs known, and it's up to her alphas to meet those demands. Lots of snuggling and cuddles. Spend some time nesting, and yes, soak up that physical intimacy while you can. If her fever won't come down after being knotted, that's an emergency. If she has cramping that doesn't resolve with knotting, same thing. Any bleeding or severe discomfort, call us. We have an answering service, and someone will get back to you to tell you how to proceed." "Would bonding help to alleviate the symptoms?" Trigg asks. The doctor hums. "It might. There are mixed opinions on why we see these types of symptoms in late-stage pregnancy. Some believe it's an omega's system mimicking a heat to draw compatible alphas for safety reasons after the omega gives birth. It harkens back to the days before civilized society, when omegas counted on their alpha or alphas for their complete protection. Others believe it's an emergency beacon, flashing and telling you what she needs." She smiles politely at Trigg. "But again, I'm not too worried. If Quincy were here alone, that would be a much different story." "Thank you," Quincy says. "Of course," the doctor replies. "Honestly, I don't think the why is as important as what you do once those symptoms persist. Having a pack of compatible alphas to meet your physical needs is more than even we could offer. If I placed you in the hospital to monitor your fevers, we would keep you on bed rest and give you medications to stop any early contractions. But we know access to alpha pheromones and semen often halt those symptoms without medical intervention ever being necessary. That's my vote." I almost laugh at the look of horror on Quincy's face. She's cute as fuck when she's embarrassed. Not to mention, I really like the idea that I can help with something after being MIA for months. "I'm taking notes," Trigg says, typing away on his phone. "Are there any other symptoms we should watch out for? How high of a temperature is concerning?" "Anything over 110 that doesn't come down immediately after being knotted," the doctor says, typing on her tablet in return. "And by that, I mean, if her fever stays that high for even an hour, take her to the emergency room. If it comes down with knotting and access to pheromones, continue to monitor it. Decreased fetal movements are another big one to look out for, but if you have any concerns, call our office." I wonder if she gets tired of repeating the same thing over and over again in different ways. I'm sure all dads are just as neurotic as I've become in the last forty-eight hours. "Knotting, nesting, and pampering," Hart says, "got it." The doctor nods and goes on. "Now, the normal schedule would be to see you back at thirty-six weeks when we would do your Strep B test. But that's two weeks away. I don't want you to wait that long if you're having any concerns. Call, and we'll fit you in if things don't start regulating within the next couple days." "Okay, thank you," Quincy says, leaning her head against my chest as I stand by her side. "Baby is doing well." Dr. Lindsay smiles. "I'm hopeful. We'd like to see your daughter stick around in there until at least thirty-seven weeks, but we're at the stage when babies come at any time. Take care of yourself and rest up while you can." There's something else we can help with. I'll carry her anywhere she needs to go and make sure she doesn't need to lift a finger during these last six weeks of pregnancy. Quincy is quiet during the trip to her house, but she doesn't seem upset. She's more than likely exhausted from all the fucking last night. She ends up in the passenger seat while I drive, and I keep my hand on her thigh during the trip. It's a simple point of contact, but I can only hope my reassurance pours through my touch. Trigg and Hartley end up in the back seat, and they talk in low murmurs about God knows what. "Just in case you don't remember how to get there, you're going to take the first right, and then it's three houses down on the left," Quincy says out of nowhere. "I have to pee so bad. I should have gone before we left the office." "Actually, I believe it would be safer to park in the alleyway behind her home," Trigg says firmly. "Second right instead of the first. Look for the two black garbage cans, and there will be a small pull-in where you can park that noses right up to the back gate." "I really stinking have to pee," Quincy mutters. "If anyone is keeping watch, it will be the least likely entry point to be seen," Trigg says. "The neighbors will be unable to see us due to the huge brick fence that lines the entire backyard." Well, I suppose we know how Trigg got in and out. "Whatever," Quincy says in a strained tone. "Just hurry. Please. She rolled right over on my bladder, and things are getting questionable." I speed up a little and follow Trigg's instructions, making the right and looking for the garbage cans. It's easy enough to tell where I'm supposed to turn in because Quincy unbuckles and frantically points. Damn. It must be a real emergency. It couldn't have taken thirty seconds for me to get us here. I pull the truck in, concerned my back end might be hanging out in the alleyway, but we'll be quick. "If you could wait while my phone connects to the cameras, that would be preferable," Trigg growls, but Quincy is already in the process of pushing open the passenger door. I chuckle, shutting the truck off and tossing open the door. "I'll go with her."