Nicolette
The trucker stared back at me in shock. He was an older man – he almost looked my father, except with a stringy yellowish beard and a stained blue bandanna wrapped around his neck.
“What the hell happened to you?” He cleared his throat. “I mean…ma’am, are you okay?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I launched myself up and into the safety of his truck cab. The trucker stared as he realized I was wearing only a sheet. I’d tried to keep the loose ends wrapped around my body for the sake of modesty, but after running what felt like miles in the desert heat, I knew I was probably a disaster. My long brown hair was twisted into dirty clumps and my bangs kept flopping in my face. As I opened my mouth to speak, I began to shake and shiver in the truck of the cab. Relief washed over me in great hot waves and I let out a gasp as a fresh wave of tears started up.
“Ma’am, what the hell happened to you?” The trucker’s voice was soft and genuine. “Are you okay?”
I nodded miserably. “Can you please take me to the hospital? Please?” My voice came out as a hysterical whimper. “I’m pregnant, and I’m so worried about my baby. And my boyfriend – the father – he’s hurt! And I need to—”
“Shhh,” the trucker said soothingly. He reached over and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. I frowned until I realized what he was doing – groping for the seatbelt. As he pulled it over my body and clicked it into place, he sighed.
“Please help me,” I repeated. “There’s a man – a really bad man – and he’s coming after me. He could be right behind us. We need to go! We need to go, right now!” Frustration welled up inside of me as the trucker stared at me.
“Ma’am, are you sure I can’t just call the police? And let them handle it?”
“No!” I shrieked loudly. “Please! The hospital, please!”
The trucker nodded. He swallowed loudly, then shifted the truck into gear and we began to roll forward. As the ground underneath the semi rig began to disappear, I slumped back into the seat. I’m okay, I thought desperately. I’m okay, and nothing bad is going to happen to me. I’m okay.
Now that I was out of immediate danger, my thoughts turned back to Charlie. I cringed as I remembered him hunched over, beaten badly by Jack. I wished I could have done anything other than just leave him. I hadn’t wanted to go – he’d insisted! But that didn’t make me feel any better. We’d been so close to becoming a real family, and now I was terrified I’d never have a family again.
The trucker cleared his throat. “Ma’am, where did you come from? I swear, you just darted into the road! But this area here is real deserted. Did you hitch a ride out here? Shouldn’t do that,” he added. “It’s not real safe, you know. If you were my daughter, I wouldn’t want you out here doin’ that kinda thing.”
“I didn’t hitch,” I said softly. I wiped my cheek with the now-filthy corner of the sheet. “I live here. St. George, Utah.”
The trucker stared. He slowed down for a red light and I cringed internally, almost wanting to reach over and steer the truck through the intersection myself. “A cute little thing like you? Livin’ all the deserted way out here?”
“Well, it’s a long story,” I said slowly, willing the light to turn green. “I’m from California, actually. Carlsbad.”
The trucker laughed. “Shit, and you left California to come live out here?”
I managed to smile wryly even though my heart was beating a panicked, hasty rhythm in my chest. “By way of Colorado,” I said quietly. “This wasn’t…Well, it was kind of a quick decision to stay here,” I said. “But my boyfriend and I live in a cabin, probably a couple of miles from here.”
The man nodded. “And…Y’all had a fight or somethin’?” He snickered. “I know how those pregnancy hormones make women real nuts. My wife was the same way. She’d about have a crying fit every time she dropped a glass of milk when she was pregnant with our kids.”
It seemed easier to lie. “Yeah,” I said. I leaned over to the window and glanced into the side-view mirror. Blessedly, there was no one following us. I thought back with a shiver to the car I’d seen parked in the driveway of the cottage. It wasn’t a car I’d seen before – it was a newer model with a big engine and big tires. The kind of thing a man would drive if he wanted to intimidate someone. I had no doubt in my mind that Jack’s car could easily outpace Charlie’s truck.
I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
“Now, see here,” the trucker was saying idly as he guided the truck around a tight curve. “You’re real young, you need to get out and see the world before you get too tied down.” He chuckled. “My wife would say the same thing; she was always of the mind that girls had to get out and do a little walkin’ before they could settle down in some small town.”
I bit my lip until I tasted salty, metallic blood seeping into my mouth. “Well, I had kind of a hard time with things,” I said slowly. “I think I’ve had enough experience. I’m ready for a real quiet family life now.”
The trucker threw his head back and hooted. “Well, you’re gonna have your little family soon enough.” He glanced down at my belly. “How far along are you?”
I blushed. “Seven months,” I said. “Well, twenty-eight weeks.” I frowned. “I still don’t get why everyone says you’re pregnant nine months. You’re not – each of those months is like, four weeks!”
“Hang on,” the driver said sharply. When I glanced over at him, I saw that his posture was rigid. I screamed as I looked out the windshield. There was an old truck – Charlie’s old truck – directly in front of us.
I braced myself for the crash, pushing my hands against the dashboard and pushing myself back into the seat as powerfully as I could manage. The impact was still enough to suck the breath out of my body and I felt my torso fly forward, held in place by the nylon strap of the seatbelt.
I screamed, biting my tongue and tasting more blood. The truck shuddered, then screeched to a stop. When I opened my eyes, I was horrified. Charlie’s little old truck had been crushed against the grill of the semi. There was fluid leaking from the hood and steam was rising rapidly from the point of impact.
The trucker was slumped over the wheel, muttering incoherently. I reached over and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him violently.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Hey, you gotta wake up now!” I shook him back and forth until my arm ached. “You gotta get my boyfriend out of that truck and take him to the hospital!”
The trucker didn’t respond. His eyes fluttered closed and he went silent. His breath was still coming, slow, and I realized with a feeling of dread that he wasn’t going to be able to help me any longer. If I wanted to save Charlie, I would have to do it myself.
Gritting my teeth, I fumbled with the seatbelt until it snapped open. My body slumped forward and a renewed sense of dread fluttered through my body when I realized the semi had risen off the ground, crushing the front of Charlie’s truck underneath. Pushing open the door, I leapt to the ground, crying out as the soles of my feet landed on the hot, jagged pavement.
The only sound I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears as I ran towards Charlie’s truck. Steam and grease were hissing from the engine and the air smelled foul, like burning rubber. Tears came to my eyes and I blinked them away, darting towards the driver’s side. I gasped when I saw Charlie, slumped over the wheel, eyes closed. The side window had broken in the crash and I reached in, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up my arm when the glass shards sunk into my soft flesh. Wrapping my hand around the door handle, I pulled the door open.
Charlie fell into my arms— Of course he hadn’t been wearing a goddamn seatbelt. But he was breathing; I could see his chest rising up and down hastily. His wrist was swollen and turning blue. I wondered if Jack had broken it, or if Charlie had hurt himself in the crash. There was so much blood on his face that I could barely look at his features, but I forced myself to glance him over and try to assess damage.
“Charlie, come on,” I grunted. “I need you to get moving. We gotta get to the hospital – come on. I got a truck, you just gotta come with me.”
Charlie groaned and shifted in my arms but he didn’t stir. Gritting my teeth, I pulled him out of the driver’s side and began hauling his body back towards the truck. He was heavy, but I felt stronger than I’d ever felt in my life. There was something powerful and hot running through my veins and I only had to listen to the sound of my heart beating to realize that I was enduring a powerful rush of adrenaline.
As I pulled Charlie back towards the truck, he groaned again. His mouth opened and I winced when I saw he had at least two broken teeth. His tongue was covered in blood, but his jaw seemed to be working. The blood on his face was mostly from a shallow-looking cut on his forehead; after I’d wiped the blood away, he looked much better, though still pale and sicker than I’d ever seen him. His close-cropped blonde hair was filled with blood and what looked like plaster dust, and I began to pray that I’d just be able to look into his green eyes again.
Please live. The air was silent and hot, aside from the steam hissing from Charlie’s truck. I couldn’t hear the roar of Jack behind us, but I knew he couldn’t be far behind. If Charlie had managed to give him the slip, even for a moment, I knew Jack was capable of catching up. Besides, he’d had that stooge with him – some kid sleeping in the car. I shuddered with fear as I thought about Jack finding Charlie and me on the road like this, bleeding and dazed and barely clothed.
The sheet slipped down the front of my body as I dragged Charlie closer to the truck. I was sweating like hell and it was hard to keep his body gripped tightly in my arms. My hands ached and my spine was screaming in pain but finally, I managed to get Charlie back towards the open passenger door of the rig. I climbed in first, then braced myself against the seat and pulled Charlie into the cab of the truck. His body flopped like a rag doll against the side of the truck and I cringed as his head whacked into the glass window.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I mumbled as I finished dragging him inside. “Sorry about your head. But I had to get you inside.”
The trucker was still unconscious. He was snoring slightly, like an infant, and his body was slumped against the steering wheel. A thin trickle of blood cascaded down his forehead. With all of my strength, I unfastened his own seatbelt and then dragged him towards me. The trucker was heavier than Charlie – I could feel my adrenaline rush leaving my body as I tightened my grip on his sleeves and yanked with all of my might. Gritting my teeth, I groaned and exhaled and pulled. Finally, the trucker’s body slid along the seat. Sweat was pouring down my forehead as I leaned the trucker against Charlie, strapped them both in, and climbed over the trucker’s body.
I’d never driven a rig before. Hell, I could barely even drive a stick. Jack always used to make fun of me, say I was a dipshit because I couldn’t manage to make a manual keep going without leaving the transmission on the road behind me. Fuck you, I thought as his face popped into my mind. I’m fucking done with you, Jack.
Grunting loudly, I managed to shift the truck into gear and pull away from Charlie’s truck. I groaned when I saw the damage; I didn’t know much about cars, but I knew Charlie would never be able to drive it again. The grill was completely flattened and the front axle was broken, with one wheel almost completely horizontal. A lump swelled up in my throat as I stepped down on the gas and drove around the truck, righting the rig on the road.
The hospital was only a little over a mile away. All I had to do was get there safely, and then everything would be okay. My heart was pounding as I fumbled with the controls of the big truck. Oddly, it felt kind of intuitive to drive. The wheel was so big that it grazed my thighs whenever I turned, and the bulb of the clutch fit perfectly into my fist.
The sound of a blaring horn made me jump into the air. For a moment, I thought it was my own doing and I pulled my hands away from the center of the rig’s steering wheel like it had burned me. Then I heard the horn again, and a shiver of fear went crawling down my spine. No, I thought desperately. No, please not Jack. Fear raced through my veins as I dared to glance in the side view mirror. Sure enough, the same car that had been parked in front of the cottage was following close behind. Jack was in the passenger seat, leaning with his head out of the window and shouting something unintelligible.
My gut twisted and cramped and I moaned, shifting around on the seat as I pressed my foot closer to the floor. The gas pedal yielded to my push and the rig shot forward. I could feel the truck gathering speed by the second. Jack’s car stayed close behind, swinging and swaying wildly on the road.
For a moment, I was tempted to hit the brakes hard. I wanted to see what would happen – whether or not Jack would crash into the truck. Then I looked down at Charlie. He was slumped over his side, his head resting on the unconscious trucker’s shoulder. A thin trickle of blood was dripping out of his mouth and down his chin, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. I saw dried blood caked around his nostrils and a fresh blast of anxiety billowed up inside of me.
I knew then that there was no way I could purposefully cause another crash. Charlie was obviously in bad shape and he needed a doctor desperately. I didn’t feel well either. I knew it was probably just the anxiety, but I had a twisting feeling in my gut that I couldn’t keep ignoring. It’s probably nothing, I told myself as I shot through an intersection. Jack was close on my heels; his car ran the red light and swerved behind the rig. I watched in horror as Jack leaned out of the window and waved his arm in the air.
I glanced down at my belly. I can’t let him find out that I have you, I thought to my baby. I can’t let him find out – then he’ll make our lives hell. We have to get away from him, and we have to stay away from him. Furthermore, I knew if I made Jack’s car crash into the back of my truck, it would be linked back to me. Terror whistled through my body as I thought of what would happen. Maybe Jack could use the crash to say I wasn’t a fit mother, that he was only anxious about the safety of his child. He’d tell them all about how I ran off and shacked up with some other guy while I was still pregnant. I shuddered. I knew abused women weren’t often treated well in the eyes of the law. It was always somehow their fault. I’d seen the documentaries, back when I’d still lived with Jack.
It was one of the reasons why I’d never tried to leave before I did. There was one special, I remembered, that had chilled me to the bone. A woman’s husband had started beating her after they’d had a child together. Before, he’d been the perfect gentleman: attentive, jealous whenever he felt like she wanted him to be, good in bed. A provider. And then as soon as she’d had a child, the tables turned. He’d turned abusive incrementally, first telling her she was stupid and worthless, then starting to beat her black and blue. She felt like she couldn’t leave him – she was a housewife who stayed home all day with the child. He constantly reminded her of that, that she’d never be able to make a living outside of the home.
Finally, she’d grown brave one day and taken the little girl to her parents’ house. She’d told them everything, and then her husband had shown up at the door, charming and apologetic. She didn’t want to go home with him, but her mother insisted. I remembered exactly what the woman had said: “It’s always better to try to fix a marriage then give a child a broken home. No child deserves that.” So she’d gone home with him. And then he’d killed her.
The documentary had been all about the little girl, and how she’d grown up in the foster care system because her father was in jail and her mother was dead. Back when I’d seen it, I’d vowed I’d never let things get that bad with Jack. That was before things had been bad all the time, before I constantly had a fat lip and a black eye. But now I knew if Jack caught me, if something bad happened, that documentary would become my life. My child would probably grow up with Jack while I either rotted six feet under or in some prison for wayward women.
I shivered. The horn blared again – a shrill, horrifying sound that cut through the air. It was a single note that had always irritated me, but never struck fear into me the way it did now. As it sounded over and over, I knew that the sound would always haunt me.
A splitting pain ratcheted through my body and I cried out, wrapping my fingers tightly around the wheel and clutching as hard as I could. Tears had welled up in my eyes by the time the cramp faded, and my chest hurt for want of air. I’d never experienced a pain like that – it was so sharp that it had knocked the breath right out of me. I blinked and stared down at the road as a new sense of panic began to take hold of my body. Behind the rig, Jack’s car swerved and swirled around on the road. He began to creep up on the right side of the truck and I cried out and leaned down on the horn, letting the rig swing towards the right. I gritted my teeth and kept turning the wheel until Jack was almost off the road. Dust was clouding the air as Jack’s tires churned the earth to the side of the highway. I coughed and blinked and finally, the rig shot forward and Jack’s car spun around and was left in the dust.
A feeling of hope came over me. The hospital was in the distance – all I had to was get there before Jack and somehow explain everything that had happened. The small cloud of hope vanished when I saw Jack’s car reappear on the road behind me. There’s no way you’re going to get there first, I thought sadly as I pressed on. He’s going to get there at the same time, and before you know it, you’ll be heading back to Carlsbad in a coffin.
I felt utterly defeated. Oddly enough, I wasn’t even saddest for myself. The most painful feeling swirling through me, the most acute sense of distress, was all coming from fear for my baby. I felt like I’d completely failed my child, and I wasn’t even technically a mother yet. I’d failed them by not managing to keep them away from Jack, their rightful father and the biggest asshole to walk the earth since Judas.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, resting a hand on my belly. I’d had to slow the rig to enter the highway, and now I was speeding up as I attempted to merge. A few cars back, Jack’s car darted in and out of traffic, staying right on my heels as I fell in with the other traffic on the highway. The sound of a horn startled me – I looked down to the side to see Jack’s car slowly inching up on the left. Gritting my teeth, I swung the rig out of the lane. Jack yelled something angrily through the windshield of the car as his driver slammed on the brakes and the car fell behind.
The exit for the hospital was just to the side. With a quick, silent prayer, I swung the rig across the lanes of the highway and sped up on the exit ramp. I wasn’t even looking behind me for Jack’s car as the rig pulled up the hospital drive. I kept going past the regular entrance and slowed the brakes, coasting into the emergency lane that was reserved for ambulances.
Immediately, orderlies and attendants were swarming the truck. I didn’t even heed the looks of anger on their faces as I opened the door and slid out to the pavement. I couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across my face, either. I finally did it, I thought distantly as two nurses in blue scrubs rushed towards me, pushing a gurney between them.
I didn’t even have a chance to get a word in before the nurses grabbed me by the shoulders and hoisted me up onto the gurney. I cried out as the sheet fell from around my body but one of them was ready and waiting with a hospital gown that she shoved on my outstretched arms. Cool air tickled my backside as the nurses pushed me down onto the gurney and began wheeling me inside.
“How many weeks along are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” I managed to croak. Now we were inside and the bright lights on the hospital ceiling were enough to make my eyes sting and water all over again. “Wait, there were two men in that truck! They need help, please! Please go back and help them!”
“Ma’am, I need you to stay calm,” one of the nurses snapped at me. “I’m sure they’ll be helped; the truck will be checked.”
“No!” I cried out and tried to sit up on the moving gurney to look behind me. I needed to know Charlie was taken care of before I could relax. “No, I need you to make sure!”
“Ma’am, please!” The nurse glared down at me. “Please, I need you to stop twisting around!” She wrapped muscular fingers around my upper arm and held me firmly in place as the gurney rounded a sharp corner.
I was beginning to feel dizzy from the speed and the insanely bright lights ahead. “Please,” I sobbed. My throat ached and tears splashed down my face. “Please, please go back and help him!”
The other nurse looked down at me. She wore a kinder expression and had soft blue eyes that turned up at the corners. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she said sweetly, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I promise your friend will be just fine. Were you in a crash?”
I nodded, suddenly unable to find the words to respond. “I was driving the truck,” I said faintly. The bright lights above me on the ceiling seemed to get brighter and hotter by the second as the nurses pushed me down another unfamiliar corridor. The walls of the hospital were painted beige and putrid green and I wanted to close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at them anymore.
I blinked and realized that I was in the middle of a room, next to a hospital bed on a large, plastic frame. There were photographs of babies and stuffed animals on the walls, and I knew they must have taken me to the maternity ward.
As the nurses hoisted me up off the gurney and onto the bed, the open hospital gown flapped open and I blushed bright red.
“Don’t worry,” the nicer-looking nurse said. She smiled. Her nametag read ‘Hannah.’ “We’ve seen everything around here.”
The bitchy nurse rolled her eyes. “Look how many tattoos she has,” she remarked to Hannah, like I wasn’t even there. “I doubt she’s really embarrassed about anything.”
“That’s unkind,” Hannah said softly. She glanced down at me. “You’re really bruised up, sweetheart,” she said in a sing-song voice as she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and began to prod at my belly through the thin material of the hospital gown. “Can you tell us what happened?”
My mouth was dry and my head ached. Suddenly, I was exhausted – I felt like I could close my eyes and sleep for a million years. The adrenaline must be wearing off, I thought as Hannah began to feel for a vein in my arm. No wonder I feel like this. I feel like I could be dead, except I’m still in pain.
“I was in a crash,” I managed to croak. The other nurse, Miranda, grabbed a clipboard from the table and began making little marks with her pen as I talked. “I was in a semi-truck, and we hit a smaller truck. The truck ran right into us.”
Miranda nodded briskly. “Were you hitch-hiking?” She frowned and tutted, sucking her teeth before I could reply. I suddenly hated her. Her dishwater blonde hair and dull grey eyes reminded me of Jack’s sarcastic glances. “That’s not good for you, you know.”
“No,” I said. “Well, um,” I paused and lifted a hand up to my head, covering my eyes. “I wasn’t. No.”
“She’s obviously delirious,” Miranda snapped. She reached over and shoved Hannah’s arm away from my arm. “And you’re fucking up that IV. Jesus! You wanna give her a bruise the size of Texas? Let me do that.” I watched blearily as Miranda pushed Hannah away, then grabbed a needle and slipped it into my arm. It hurt more than it should have – I cried out and Miranda glared at me.
“It’ll be okay,” Hannah said soothingly. “Just keep talking. We need to keep you conscious if you have a concussion. Does your head hurt?”
“I’m so tired,” I mumbled. “So exhausted.” Thoughts were swimming around in my head and I felt a small trace of panic trying to shove through my anxiety. I knew if I didn’t tell Miranda and Hannah exactly what happened – about Charlie and Jack and all of it – that something horrible would happen. Jack could storm into the hospital and drag me home without my consent. I might close my eyes and wake up in a trunk, tied up somewhere and unable to move.
“Keep her awake!” Miranda barked. She pulled over an IV bag and hooked me up to it. “Do you have any medical allergies?” Her grey eyes flashed with irritation.
I felt like bursting into tears. I shook my head. “No,” I said softly. “I don’t.”
“What’s your name, dear?”
“Nicolette,” I mumbled as Hannah swooped in and pulled a thin blanket over my hips. “Nicolette McDonald.”
Hannah made some notes on a clipboard. She lowered herself into a plastic chair at the side of the bed. “So you were in a car crash? Can you tell me the names of the drivers?”
Pain shot through my body and I cried out, clutching my belly. My eyes screwed tightly shut and I whimpered as the searing hot cramp gripped me mercilessly. It lasted longer this time. When it was done, I sucked in greedy mouthfuls of air, my chest aching.
“How long have you been having contractions?” Hannah asked urgently. “Nicolette, you need to be honest with me – how long has this been going on?”
“Not long,” I said softly. It hurt to speak, and my body was exhausted. “About an hour or two, maybe three.”
Hannah and Miranda exchanged looks. “Nicolette, I think you’re going into labor,” Hannah said. “I’ll get the obstetrician on call – Dr. Collins. He’s very good,” she added. “You’ll like him a lot.”
I moaned loudly. “No,” I said. “I can’t be going into labor! You don’t understand! I have to—”
“Hush now,” Hannah said. She reached down and patted my hand with her own. “Nicolette, everything’s going to be fine. I want you to take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?”
I sucked in a big gulp of air. It tasted stale and medicinal, like the hospital itself.
“She has a massive head wound,” Hannah said. She gently pulled my brown hair to the side. “Look at the contusion there. She must have hit herself in the crash.”
“Well, we can’t exactly give her pain meds right now,” Miranda snapped. “Not if she’s gonna have this baby today.”
“Check her dilation,” Hannah said. The next thing I knew, Miranda was kneeling between my legs and pushing my knees apart. There was something cold and hard inside of me, and I cried out with humiliation.
“She’s only five centimeters,” Miranda called back. “She’s not quite ready yet.”
Hannah smiled down at me. “That’s good,” she said. “See, you’re halfway there! You’re making good time.” She beamed. “This is always so exciting.”
“Charlie is the father,” I croaked. My eyes rolled back in my head as another sharp contraction took hold in my gut. “It’s Charlie, not Jack!”
“Confused, is she?” Miranda smirked. “Seems like someone was sleeping around a few months ago!”
“Shut up,” Hannah hissed. “Dear, just try to relax, okay. Just try to get some rest. You’re in some bad pain because of your injury, but we can’t give you anything too strong until after the baby is born.”
“What about an epidural?” I looked into her eyes, silently begging for her to help me. “Can’t I have an epidural? Please?”
Hannah’s smile faltered. “Your contractions aren’t quite regular yet,” she said sweetly. “And the thing is, an epidural might slow those down. You’re already halfway there,” she said. “This might be a really easy birth. Do you want to try on your own?”
A seize of pain gripped me between the legs and I howled, throwing my head back against the hospital mattress. Wet strands of brown hair lashed against my cheek and I struggled against the pain, gritting my teeth and fighting it with all my might. For a brief moment, I wondered when my hair had gotten wet. Then I twisted again and the sharp, pungent smell of sweat filled my nostrils. “Please,” I begged, gritting my teeth. “Please, it hurts so badly. Please!”
A male doctor rushed in with a serious expression on his face. He wore rimless glasses and a bright white coat over his blue scrubs. Miranda rushed over to him and handed him the clipboard as he walked to the side of my bed.
“Looks like we’re not quite ready to go yet,” he said after taking a look between my legs. I struggled against another sharp contraction after the doctor straightened up. “But if you want a late epidural, I’ll have Hannah give you one.”
Relief exploded in my body. “Please,” I begged. “Please, I have to stay awake. I can’t go to sleep. But the pain…” I trailed off, sucking in my breath as a sharp cramp stretched across my belly. I felt myself tensing up, the muscles in my body clenching as I tried to fight off the pain. Go away, pain, I prayed. Please, please just stop! I have to tell them about Charlie, about the father of my baby! Please!
“Stop fighting,” Hannah said. She reached down to pat me on the shoulder and eased me up off the mattress until I was sitting. “You’re going to want to try to breathe through the pain,” she said. “I promise, it’s not that bad. Just breathe deeply and don’t clench up. You’re just making it worse for yourself if you do that.”
I barely even felt the small needle slide into the base of my spine. As the medicine began to pump through my body, I was aware of an odd numbness from the waist down. When I realized that I couldn’t move my legs, I screamed in terror. “I’m paralyzed! Help! Help!”
Miranda snickered. She rolled her eyes, then walked out of the room, leaving me with Hannah. Hannah rushed to my side and handed me a cup of water.
“You’re just fine,” she said sweetly. “That’s the epidural working. Just relax now, can do you that for me, Nicolette?”
I nodded blearily. “Charlie is the father,” I said, suddenly remembering what I had wanted to tell the nurse. “He’s the father. Don’t let…Don’t let that other man come in here. He’s bad, Hannah!” I gripped her hand and squeezed her fingers until her face showed a clench of pain. “Hannah, please don’t let that man hurt my baby!”
Hannah laughed nervously. She pulled her hand away from mine. “I’m going to let you rest now,” she said. “If you can get some sleep, try to do so, okay?”
“No!” I cried out. “Please, please don’t go! Please wait with me!”
Hannah crossed her arms and sighed. “You poor thing,” she said. “Is there someone I can call? That man…Charlie? Should I call him?”
“He was in the truck with me,” I said quickly. “I was trying to tell you, when you first pulled me into the room! He was right there! He’s hurt!”
Hannah nodded. “I’ll try to look up his condition. Would you like me to do that?”
Relief washed over me in a cool wave and I nodded. “Oh, please! That would be wonderful, thank you!”
As Hannah bustled out of the room, I sank back against the pillows. My head was still swimming but the pain had disappeared, at least from my lower body. I felt stiff and sore, but the cramps had finally disappeared. I was even starting to get used to the numb feeling of the epidural; it was strange, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. At least it was better than the pain.
I tried not to panic as I waited for the kind nurse to return. When I was alone, I realized it was the first time I’d been without someone by my side since the trucker picked me up. I felt a pang of guilt when I thought of the way he’d been slumped over the wheel, bleeding slightly from a wound to the head. I hoped I hadn’t done too much damage to his truck. I hoped that maybe, somehow, I’d get the chance to apologize after this mess was over.
My eyelids began to droop and my body felt strangely heavy. Oddly, I was still feeling pressure in my belly, but it was real pressure this time, not the pain I’d felt before. I shifted uncomfortably in the bed, feeling somewhat dwarfed by the high plastic rails on each side. It was almost like being in a crib.
Outside of the room, people walked back and forth. Snippets of their conversation would float into the room and I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, trying to figure out whether anyone was talking about Charlie. Unfortunately, the nurses weren’t using names, and very little of the words that came back to me made any sense.
“Please be okay,” I whispered softly as I rolled onto my side. Hannah and Miranda had hooked me up to a variety of machines, including one that was monitoring my heart rate. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like it was going awfully fast. Worrying about the baby coming early was enough to make me sick. But I knew that as soon as I’d find out what had happened to Charlie, I’d probably be able to relax — assuming the news was good.
“Where is she?!”
When I heard Jack’s loud voice from the hallway, I cried out in fear and pulled the blanket over my chest.
“Where the hell is my wife?”
“Excuse me, sir?” The calm voice of Dr. Collins filled my ears and I could have cried with relief. “Who are you looking for?”
“Nicolette McDonald,” Jack replied. I shivered – he sounded calmer than he had in years. “She’s my wife, and I think she’s gone into early labor. We were in a car accident, and she’s not in the intensive care unit.”
“Oh, Nicolette, yes. She’s right in here,” Dr. Collins replied. “We can go see her together.”
“No!” I cried out as Jack crossed the threshold of my room. Instantly, the feeling of safety and comfort that I’d built up in that little room vanished, leaving me with nothing but fear and dread. “No, keep him away from me!”
Dr. Collins frowned as he and Jack approached my bedside. “She’s a little delirious, we think,” Dr. Collins said. “Don’t mind her, she’s been saying strange things ever since she was brought in.”
Jack looked at me and I shuddered as his eyes looked up and down my body. His mouth was smiling, slightly, but his eyes were hard and cold.
“My poor wife,” Jack said mechanically. He stepped forward and picked up my hand. I tried to pull away and kick but he tightened his grip on my fingers and squeezed. It hurt and I cried out.
“You’re hurting me!” I screamed. “Dr. Collins, help! This man isn’t my husband! He’s abusive! He’s hurt me before!”
Dr. Collins shook his head. He gave Jack an embarrassed smile. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “She’s been difficult since she was brought in. I’m sure it’s just the delirium. We think she might have a very light concussion.”
“I’m sure she’ll come around,” Jack said. He patted me on the belly and a feeling of hatred so strong that it made me nauseated swept over my body. “How’s the baby? You know I was worried about that, dear.”
“It’s not your baby!” I cried, kicking and thrashing in the bed. The epidural made it hard to move, like all of my motions were underwater. “Help! Someone! Get him away from me!”
“Nicolette, please,” Jack growled. “Don’t make a scene.” He turned towards Dr. Collins. “Could I have a moment alone with my wife, please?”