Followed
RAVEN
My fingers were gripping the wheel like it might fall off. There was a black SUV that had followed me on the highway for the last thirty miles. Someone was following me. The man driving the SUV was neither Orion nor Quinton. He was much thinner with red-orange hair.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to end up mutilated inside of a ditch somewhere. If they were right and I was pregnant, the man would be committing a double homicide.
I didn't want to die today. I kept my car to the right so I could take the next exit. Maybe it was just paranoia making me think that he was following me. He could just be going in the same direction.
As I changed lanes to get into the exit-only lane, he also changed lanes. No. He really was following me. I was sweating now. I had zero clue what my next move would be. I looked at my phone. I knew it was foolish to text and drive, but at least they'd be able to see that I'd been worried about my would-be murderer.
If I had one shot, who would I choose? I didn't want to send a message to everyone in my address book. If this turned out to be nothing, I cringed at the thought of everyone knowing what a head-case I was.
My last text was to Quinton about meeting up. I tapped the top conversation and wrote with my phone in the center of my steering wheel: Being followed.
I kept it there, keeping my eyes on the road. The text chimed as it came in and I loved the read-out feature in my car.
Q: Where are you?
Me: At the intersection of Highway 7990 and County Road PT
Q: Get to the nearest gas station. I'll get there as soon as I can.
Something inside of me eased. I didn't know that my shoulders were bunched up until they loosened. The anxiety and fear were still making me feel a little nauseous, though. I pulled into the gas station, which had a lot of traffic for a county road.
The SUV stayed on the road when I went into the gas station. I could see that the man was on the phone. He hadn't been texting like I had. I had a slight reprieve.
Within five minutes, Quinton was coming out of a truck and I was running straight into his arms.
"Oh my...I was so scared," I sobbed, burying my face in his chest. He smelled like warmth and safety. I didn't know how he managed to smell like that, but I could feel it coming off of him in waves.
"Shh," Quinton said, stroking my hair. "You're okay. False alarm."
"You don't know that," I said. My knees felt like jelly. "But I'm so glad you came."
"You were never in any danger," Quinton said, stroking my back now. "We hired him."
I took a huge step back, pulling myself out of Quinton's arms. "You what?"
"You ran off," Quinton said. His tone was a little sheepish.
"To get some space!" I could see a woman at a pump turning in our direction, so I lowered my voice. "I wanted time and space and you hired someone to stalk me?"
"To find you. He's a private investigator."
"Go away," I shouted. I couldn't believe I'd called Quinton for backup. "Go away!"
"Raven," he said in a soothing voice. "You're carrying our baby. Of course we're worried about you."
"I never asked for this," I said, my eyes squeezed shut like I was 3 again and could make the world disappear by closing my eyes. "I never asked for your baby."
"But it's what you have," Quinton said. "Orion has been losing his mind, Raven. Come home and let us take care of you."
I knew that the fragile few moments I'd had with them were some of the best in my whole life. But it was hard to believe that we could be together after their enormous lie of omission.
"I promise to feed you bacon every day," Quinton wheedled.
At his words, my stomach growled.
"That's the baby," Quinton said.
I loved bacon on a normal day, but I was overwhelmed by the urge to eat any and all meat that I could get my hands on. Preferably rare. I was the kind of girl who liked burnt crispy well-done steak, so there was definitely something going on. Weren't pregnant women supposed to have some kind of meat aversion? I had the opposite. It was like I was turning into a carnivore.
"I'm going to vomit," I warned Quinton. I turned to the grass and began to upchuck, the spasms shaking my body as I rejected the smoothie that I'd had earlier that day.
Instead of worshiping the porcelain god alone as I'd been doing for the past day, Quinton was there, holding my hair back as I emptied my stomach.
"You've been sick?" Quinton said, his tone worried. "You shouldn't be on your own."
Normally, I was an independent woman. I didn't survive years in the i-banking industry without a thick suit of armor. I wasn't the kind of girl who waited around in a tower for a handsome prince to break the spell and save her. I was more likely to be the one on the stallion.
But I couldn't deny the appeal of someone taking care of me. My parents were long gone. I only relied on myself. As I let my body sag into Quinton's, something like a purr came into my throat.
"I need something to get the taste out of my mouth," I said to distract myself from the weird thoughts and sounds coming from my body.
"I'll get you some Coke to settle your stomach." Quinton helped me sit down, even though there was a pile of vomit next to me. "Just wait here. You're going to be okay."
I closed my eyes and tried not to breathe the stench of the vomit next to me. It was pink, just like the strawberry smoothie. The baby really didn't like strawberries, it seemed. Thinking about strawberries, I wanted to start throwing up again.
In two minutes, Quinton was outside with a can of cold Coke. He popped the tab and handed it to me. I carefully sipped it. It felt icy, which was perfect and what I needed.
"What are we going to do now?" I felt a little better than I did before the Coke. It hit the spot. I had no idea that I had needed it.
"First, we're going to get a doctor to check you out."
"No," I protested. "Not necessary. Morning sickness is more like all-day sickness for me."
"You're carrying our cub," Quinton said. There was a bossy note in his voice that made him sound more like Orion. "Believe me, I'm the easier option. You don't want to argue with Orion about whether you should see a doctor or not."
"I'll make an appointment with my doctor," I promised, because truth be told, I didn't want to argue with Orion about taking care of the baby that both of them believed was inside of me.
"Actually, if you could schedule an appointment with one of the pack's approved doctors, we'd really appreciate it."
I saw red. "Seriously, dude? I'm humoring you by going to the doctor at all. I probably just have a stomach bug," I said feebly, even though we both knew that I knew that I was carrying their were-cub. "Don't push me," I warned. "You won't like the consequences."
We were sitting here at a gas station because they had overwhelmed me with information. I just didn't want to have a push-pull relationship where we'd have good times until they scared me away. I didn't want them to hire private investigators to scare me and stalk me. I just wanted a normal relationship with my lovers. I was getting the impression that werewolves were a little different from humans.
Quinton sighed. "I can give you a list to choose from, if it helps." I could see that his eyebrows were drawn together. Guilt hit me like a wrecking ball. All they wanted to do was take care of me and all I wanted was to be independent. We had been together for a matter of days and it already seemed like our relationship was doomed.
"Why don't we wait a few days for that?" I asked.
"It's complicated for a human woman to carry a shifter baby. Most of the time, it turns out okay, but we have to closely monitor the pregnancy. If the baby tries to...if..." He covered his eyes.
"What is it?" My heart sped up. I felt like he needed to tell me something.
"It can go wrong," he said, uncovering his eyes. I could see the naked fear in them. "It can go really wrong."
I clenched my right fist. "I never asked for this," I told him.
"But these are the cards that have been dealt," Quinton said. "Get back in the car. I'll send someone for yours."
"I can drive myself," I said.
"You're not leaving my sight until you give birth," Quinton growled. "Get in the car."
I looked around him. I could probably make a break for it.
I was firmly lifted off of my feet. I thought that if I weren't pregnant, he would have less of a problem manhandling me.
"Put me down!" I yelped.
"You're getting into the car. We're going home. You're going to be observed by a doctor. It'll be a house call. Don't worry."
Don't worry? I was sort of being kidnapped by my lover and taken away from my own car. He clicked the child-lock before closing the door on my side. He really wasn't going to let me out. I didn't know if I was highly aggravated by his highhandedness or touched that he cared so much. Probably a mixture of both.
I didn't talk for the first 10 minutes, and then I dropped off in the middle of Sweet Home Alabama blaring from the radio.