"We're taking off by the end of the week. That gives you a couple days to rest up." He finally looked at her, and the agony painting dark circles under his eyes, digging furrows around his mouth, stole Nikki's breath. She sat up, letting the afghans fall as he crossed the room to her. When he reached in his pocket and drew out a handful of bills and dropped them on the couch next to her, she could only sit and stare. "That should be enough to take care of the problem. Shouldn't be too much to it -- I mean, what, you're a few weeks along?"
"Maybe six weeks," she whispered, feeling like one of those wind-up toys that kept bouncing off the wall and heading back, again and again, never able to change direction. She couldn't get past the thick wad of fifties and hundreds slowly unfolding in front of her.
"We're all heading out to take care of -- well, you don't need to know. The thing is, you'll be alone all afternoon. Call a taxi and get it taken care of all private. No need for Ringo or Marcus or Angelo to know what's only our business, right?"
She held still while Brock brushed a cool, dry kiss across her forehead and hurried out of the room. A few seconds later, she heard the front door open and close.
Abort? She could barely make herself pick up the money, but in a way it mesmerized her. She counted over two thousand dollars. Did abortions cost that much? No wonder it was such big business."No," she whispered. "I promised."