Chapter 20

twenty

Avery

I'm leaving class in a rush when I bump into someone. I nearly topple over, my bag falling to the ground. Before I can fall, two hands grab my shoulders. I look up and groan inwardly at the bright orange hair that's all over the place.

"Sorry, Avs, I didn't see you there." I inwardly roll my eyes. This isn't the first time in the past month that he's ‘accidentally' bumped into me. Since word has spread that I'm single and Sergi is no longer in the picture, thanks to Mel's so-called friends—who spread it after overhearing a conversation between the two of us—this guy has decided we would make the perfect couple.

"Brent," I say politely, and I remove his hands from me, which isn't difficult; Brent is like a twig, and just slightly taller than my 5'4". He's also a pain in the butt.

I bend down, grabbing my bag, and say, "Sorry, but I can't talk at the moment, I'm late for an appointment." He smirks, thinking it's an excuse. Shockingly, it isn't an excuse today, but when I go to move around him, he grabs a hold of my arm. I tense, hating the feel of his hand on my arm; he reminds me of the boy from my second foster home, the Milsons. He was a nasty little weasel.

Before Brent can open his mouth, I say the only thing that I know will scare him off, I pat my belly, which has just started to show, and he furrows his brows. "My appointment is with my OB/GYN, you know, to make sure little bean is growing nicely."

He drops his hand like I burned him, and I roll my lips together to stop the laughter from coming out.

He stutters, "W-well, c-congrats, I guess." Then he turns and runs away like his butt's on fire. I laugh. I shake my head and walk to my dad's SUV—I really need to start calling it mine .

It takes me fifteen minutes, but I make it to the OB's office with a few minutes to spare. I sign the forms they hand me, and sit down, waiting for them to call me.

I'm looking at all the posters on the wall when I hear a woman screech, "What do you mean I'm not pregnant?" My eyes widen when the woman in question is dragged out by security, and I realize who it is: Sergi's little girlfriend. I look down, hoping she doesn't notice me as she continues to shout, "I know I'm pregnant, I made sure I would get pregnant! Your tests are wrong."

I swallow hard but keep my head down, and just as the guards pull her outside, I'm called in. I look quickly at the nasty woman, and I sigh in relief that she didn't hear my name called. I push back the hurt that they're trying for a baby, and get up and head back with the nurse. She takes my weight and height, then asks me to pee in a cup and leave it in the small sliding door where the cupboard is. I do as she asks, then she takes me to another room and asks me to take a seat on the small bed, where she takes my blood pressure, and then says my doctor will be in momentarily.

A couple of minutes later, a nice older lady with white hair in a bun, and kind blue eyes walks in. She shakes my hand. "Hi Avery, I'm Doctor Monroe, shall we get started?" I smile and nod before she asks me to lie down. She feels around my belly, and gets me to sit up again as looks at my chart.

"Okay, your urine test came back positive for pregnancy, and looking at your HGB levels, they indicate your about 11-12 weeks along. Let's have a look, shall we? If you could get undress from the waist down, and place this sheet over your legs, we'll do a transvaginal ultrasound to get an accurate reading."

She hands me the sheet and leaves the room to give me some privacy. I sigh, realizing he knocked me up during one of the nights he fucked me like I was his booty call, after he distanced himself from me. This baby wasn't made from love. I shake my head. There were only two times he didn't wear a condom, and both times I took the morning after pill. The first time was when he came to me after Phoebe was attacked, and the second was twelve weeks ago, when he showed up at my work. That means the baby was conceived in the goddamn bathroom. I wipe at my tears, and I quickly take my jeans and panties off, the get back on the small bed, placing the sheet over my lap. A few minutes later, Dr. Monroe comes back in, and asks me to scoot by butt a little further down, and lift my feet. I do as she asks.

"Okay, take a deep breath for me." I do as she says, and she pushes the wand inside me. Its uncomfortable but not painful.

Suddenly, tears fall from my eyes when a ‘ swoosh-swoosh ' sound fills the room. I turn my head and see my baby on the monitor. I see the head, the little arms and legs, and I see the little heart beating. My heart starts to beat faster…when I notice something else.

"Is that…?"

Smiling softly, she supplies, "Yes, that's a second baby. Congratulations, Avery, you're having twins."

My breathing halts, twins? Crap.

She measures both babies. Both babies. Both babies ! Maybe if I say it enough times, it'll all turn into a joke. But…nope, not a joke.

"You are twelve weeks pregnant. Both babies are a good size, but I want to see you a little bit more than a normal pregnancy because you are carrying two." I nod, and she presses some more buttons before she pulls the wand out. She prints pictures of the babies , then she hands them to me. I sit up, looking at my babies, and tears fill my eyes again, my heart hurting. I need Sergi, but he threatened me, lied to me, and betrayed me.

I quickly wipe away the tears as the doctor says, "Congratulations, Avery. I'll see you in three weeks, okay? Make the appointment with the receptionist. If you get dressed, you can leave when you're ready. Take your time." I nod and thank her, and she leaves me to sort myself out.

After I've made my next appointment, I sit in the SUV with tears running down my face. I take a deep breath…. I can do this; I don't need him. I look at the time and see I need to get a move on for my second appointment today.

I get to the office where my appointment is, and I take a deep breath. I look at the sign above the door: Fosters Family Law. I enter the building. The receptionist looks up when she hears me enter, and pastes a fake smile on her face. I clear my throat. Mel said they were good, so I try not to get discouraged.

"Hi, my name's Avery Taylor-Gibson, and I have a four o'clock appointment."

She looks at her computer and presses a few buttons, then sighs. Getting up, she knocks on the brown door. I hear, "Enter," and the woman walks in, says a few things, and then returns.

"You can go in."

I give her a small smile. "Thank you," I whisper, and her eyes soften. She gives me a real smile.

I walk in and, sitting behind a large clear glass desk, is a man in his early sixties, with short white hair, wearing in a gray suit. He has a warm smile. I walk up to his desk and shake his hand.

"Hi, Mr. Foster." He smiles and indicates for me to take a seat, and I do.

I clear my throat as he enquires, "So, what brings you to me, Ms. Gibson?"

I wring my hands in my lap as I croak, "You're apart of the Irish Mafia, correct?" He sits up taller, more alert, his eyes hardening, and I continue, "I mean, you're protected by them because your part of the family, yes?"

He leans forward, linking his fingers together, and leans on his desk. "What's this about, Avery?" I clear my throat; he's using my first name, so I know he means business.

"I'm pregnant with Sergi Popov's twins. He's second to Damian Volkov. I didn't know who he really was until a few months ago, and he cheated on me a few weeks later. I'm here because I'm hoping you may be able to help me draw up legal paperwork to ensure he can't take my babies from me. I am completely alone; my birth mother is dead, and my adoptive parents are also dead. I won't let him have these children. I'm willing to split custody, but he can't have them overnight until after I've finished nursing them."

His eyes widen with each word, and he picks up his phone, then holds one finger up to me. "Noah," he speaks into the phone, I clear my throat again. He grabs a bottle of water from the little fridge on the other side of his desk, and hands it to me. I give a small smile and take a healthy swallow. He talks to the person he just called, "I want to confirm, if I take on a client with ties to the Russians and the Italians, that my law firm will not be under threat." He listens to the other person, and looks at me. He raises a brow, and I take a deep breath; he's asking permission to share details on the matter with Noah. I give a small nod. "She's an orphan, who has found out she's pregnant with twins by a member of the Bratva." He stops talking, listens to what's being said on the other end, then thanks the person, and hangs up.

He looks at me, my nerves ratcheting up. "I suggest we start with a formal letter which I will produce now. You can either give it to him or I can send it. Now, normally, I'd encourage you sending it, but because of who we are dealing with, I would suggest you personally deliver it. It shows you have more respect for the families. This letter will confirm what you're willing to offer, and it will also offer security for yourself, okay? If he doesn't agree, then we take him to court. But we'll deal with that later, if needed." I let out a relieved breath; he's taking my case. Never have I been happier about my savings. It's enough for a house for myself and the twins, and for the lawyer, and I won't even have to touch my med school funding.

I nod and sit quietly while he drafts the formal letter, hoping Sergi will just agree to it. Twenty minutes later, he's handing me the letter in an envelope, and I get up and shake his hand.

"I will contact you when I hear from his attorney."

I nod and thank him again, then head out. I give the receptionist a small, sad smile, and she smiles back warmly, definitely a lot nicer than when I arrived. I head out to the SUV, even more grateful to my dad for putting it in my name; it's the perfect size for twins. I get in and head to the next destination.

Another twenty minutes later, I'm standing outside of a building, trying to get the nerve to go in. I know I need to, I just don't know how. My palms are sweaty, the paperwork in my hand is crinkling increasingly, and my breathing is shallow. My feet and body just don't get the memo even as my brain keeps telling them to move. Several people nearly bump into me, then frown, looking at me like I'm weird. It's almost 5 PM, and they want to get home. Volkov a Mr. Foster made the appointment twenty minutes ago."

Her eyes widen a little and she nods. "If you could quickly sign in, then go to the elevator and press the 50 th floor. The receptionist should be there to see you in." I give her a small smile before I sign in head to the elevators. Once inside, I do as she stated and press the 50th floor, a lump forming in my throat again.

When I get to the floor indicated, the receptionist is nowhere to be seen, and I hear shouting coming from behind a black door. I take a deep breath and walk over to it and knock loud enough for them to hear me.

Sergi shouts, "What?"

I take a deep breath, open the door, and walk in.