Chapter 52

Carly closed the door to her office and lowered herself into her chair. She'd taken to keeping a stool under her desk in order to prop up her feet, and she did so, now. Her morning had begun on one of Anne's examination tables. Anne had given her the grim news that absolutely nothing had changed with Carly's cervix, but she did think that the baby had dropped a bit.

Carly wasn't so certain about the dropping part as it still felt like the baby's feet were sticking into her esophagus. Heartburn was a constant companion, and ice, cold milk and vanilla ice cream were the only sources of relief. Caroline swore that meant the baby would have a head full of hair, but if there was any truth to the old wives' tail, Carly would have gladly given birth to a bald-headed baby.

She'd gone straight from Anne's office to the OR where she'd assisted Daniel in a tricky, quadruple by-pass that had taken far longer than either of them had hoped. They'd been successful in the end, though, and had at least given the woman a fighting chance. It would be up to the patient to kick her four-pack-a-day habit and trade her French fries for brussel sprouts.

Heaving a sigh, Carly reached for the woman's file. She reviewed the contents and made some last-minute notes as to expectations of recovery. She also included instructions for the hospital nutritionist to contact the patient before discharge. Signing her name to the chart, she dated it.

Tuesday, October 26th.

Exactly two weeks prior to her due date, and the last day she was scheduled to work. Though her original goal had been to work up until her labor started, she'd changed her mind over the past few days. Or, rather, her mind had been changed for her.

Bo had begged, pleaded really, for her to go ahead and start her maternity leave. He'd brought most of the others over to his way of thinking.

Carys - It would be nice for you to have a few days off your feet before the baby comes.

Nicky - You and Bo can spend some extra time together.

Caroline - You should rest all you can, while you can.

Melanie - We can do some last-minute shopping.

Chelsea - You can help me convince my grandmother that I don't need a "society" wedding.

She'd not been the least bit surprised when Bo had come home Monday evening touting that he'd started his paternity leave. He was taking a full twelve weeks off, effective immediately. Carly had realized this meant that Bo would be spending nearly every waking minute with her. She had zero problems with this arrangement.

Not that she'd admit it to anyone else because giving voice to her true feelings would sever the thin veil of control she'd managed to construct over the last few weeks. Outwardly, she had done her damndest to maintain a stoic and brave front. Inwardly, she wrestled with an entirely different truth.

She was fucking terrified.

At any moment she expected Lawrence to creep up behind her. Despite the ever-present body guard by her side, Carly felt vulnerable. Quinn, the man who had accompanied her every outing since Lawrence first made his presence known, was solid and capable. He had come from Victor's pool of hired muscle, and was one-half of the team that Carly had met in the park shortly after her wedding to Bo. She couldn't help chuckling a bit over how she'd flattened his partner that day.

But even Quinn's size and the loaded .44 he carried would not protect her from the reality of this situation.

Lawrence was coming for her.

She knew it.

Bo knew it.

They just didn't know when he would strike.

Saturday she and Bo had taken Ciara to her little friend, Emma's, birthday party. When they'd come home, it was to find the rest of their family gathered in the living room, staring at a single envelope on the coffee table. The Saturday mail had come, and with it, a fresh reminder of the monster tracking her. This one had contained only one word…

Soon.

That was what scared her the most; she was living on borrowed time. She only felt safe in certain settings. The operating room was her domain and when she performed surgery, she was in control. That was why she'd been so insistent about returning to work. In her home, with her children, who had been denied to her for so long, she was content. But only in Bo's arms, in the seclusion of their bedroom, did she feel completely and utterly safe.

So women's liberation and girl power would have to stand aside for the moment; Carly was going home to hunker down and allow her husband to fawn, pet and dote on her as he saw fit. She wondered if Bo would think her completely batty if she had one of those panic rooms installed in the house.

They could just all live in it forever. Maybe the entire house could be turned into a panic room? Well, it was a longshot, but she wasn't going to dismiss the possibility. She'd research it a little when she got home.

"Speaking of which," she mumbled. "I should probably head that way." Bo had already sent a couple of texts inquiring as to when she was coming home. The lengthy surgery had delayed her long enough.

Carly stood and took off her doctor's coat and hung it neatly in her office's tiny closet. She wouldn't need it for quite some time. Gathering a few patient files off her desk, she shouldered her purse and slid her phone into her pants pocket. Quinn was waiting for her outside her office and smiled, reaching for the burden she held.

"Let me take those for you, Dr. Brady." Quinn carried the files over to the nurses' station where he gave them to Maxine. Maxine, normally chatty, was on the phone with the lab and merely smiled and waved in Carly's direction.

Carly and Quinn took the elevator to the parking garage.

"Shall I fetch the car for you?" Quinn asked thoughtfully, but Carly shook her head.

"I don't mind walking."

Carly's designated spot was at the end of a row, near the east stairwell, but at the opposite end of the elevators. Carly noted that though it was nearing three o'clock and therefore a shift change, the car park was silent.

Silent as the grave. The figure of speech flitted across her mind, leaving curling tendrils of anxiety in its wake. The silence was broken only by their footfalls as she and Quinn strode towards the car.

They reached the car, and as always, Quinn opened the door for her and helped her into the passenger seat. As he stepped around to the driver's side, Carly began to feel like something was wrong. She scanned the parking garage, but could see nothing out of place. Still, her senses were piqued and she couldn't shake the notion that badness was coming. Quinn had reached the driver's side and he paused momentarily, fiddling with something she couldn't see.

Quinn opened the driver's door and she shrieked at the noise. He gave her an apologetic smile before sliding behind the wheel. "You're as jumpy as a cat," he observed while putting the key in the ignition.

Carly gave a weak shrug. "Does anything seem…strange to you?"

Quinn looked all around several times, in several different directions, before turning back to meet Carly's eyes. "It's a bit quiet in here, I suppose, but perhaps we're just in between the crowds."

"I guess so." Carly settled back in her seat and reached around to put on her seatbelt. Quinn waited patiently as she fussed with the lap belt until it lay across her thighs, just under the bulge of her belly.

"I'm very ready to get home, Quinn," she said with a smile.

"I'm sure you are," he said. He reached into his pocket and extracted a white handkerchief. "It's a shame you'll never get there." Then his big hand clapped the handkerchief to her face.

The startled synapses of her brain cells barely had time to register the scent of chloroform before she succumbed to oblivion.