Page 17 of Winter Frost
“Hey, it’s okay,” Owen says, gripping onto Autumn’s shoulders so she doesn’t collapse. “He’s not your brother and you both never were intimate.”
“I know. I know. Oh my…I hate our mother so much.” She turns to Noelle who has lost all color in her face. “She better never come back here or I’ll kick her ass myself.”
“You’ll have to wait in line,” Noelle says.
“So is that why you sent Jackie packing?” Autumn asks, putting her hands on her hips.
“No. It’s not to say my past doesn’t make life easy. She wants someone who is young and doesn’t have all this baggage.”
“Did she say that?”
“No, but she said we didn’t work because of our ages and…I’m trying to remember exactly what she said, but I’m positive she said that we weren’t a good fit.”
“Please we know you two had sex the other night. Like you two weren’t quiet, and she left with marks all over her neck.”
“So you knew?”
“Of course we did. We hoped you two would bang and make us a little brother or sister.”
“You don’t think I’m too old for a kid?”
“No, she’s the one whose age matters. We eventually run out of eggs.”
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” I sigh, wanting to kick my own ass.
“Yes, but we didn’t want to tell you.” Noelle smiles at me, squeezing my shoulder.
“You should find her and tell her that yourself.”
“You’re right. I should.” I get off my dumb ass and I head to my truck and drive straight to her work. Now that I’m here I have no idea what to say. Stepping out of the vehicle, I take a healthy breath in the icy cold air. Damn winter is coming.
I pull open the door and inside are several people working on their rehab while there are others at a desk, but I don’t see Jacqueline. The receptionist immediately greets me. “Good afternoon, can I help you, sir?”
“I’m looking for Jacqueline Frost.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m only a temp here. Is she a patient?”
“No, she’s a nurse.”
“Okay.” She looks at something on her computer. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t work here.”
“Excuse me? Since when?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t provide that information, sir.”
“Where is that prick at?” I need to wrap my hands around his fat neck and choke the life out of him.
“I’m sorry, but…um…”
“I apologize. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m talking about that doctor…what’s his name?” It takes me a minute. “Dr. Stewart. That’s the prick’s name.”
“Um…Dr. Stewart no longer works here either,” a woman about my age says, approaching me.
“Excuse me. Who are you?”
“I’m Dr. Amber Johnson. Would you happen to be Mr. Sager?” she asked.
My brow crease together. “How did you know?”