Kelly

 

Some time had passed. Those three guys hadn’t done anything else to me, hadn’t asked any more questions, hadn’t hurt me either, just huddled up and talked among themselves. The driver got a phone call and stepped out. Then he returned and ordered the other two to leave. He stayed with me, leaning against the back wall again, eyeing me.

 

By this point, I was getting hungry. And lightheaded. And thirsty. But I didn’t dare ask for anything. I didn’t want their food. I didn’t want anything from them. I wanted to be home again. Strange. When I thought of home, the image that popped into mind wasn’t the house where Mom was living. No, I immediately thought of Andrei’s house. Strange. Stupid. I was so stupid.

 

Andrei… Did he know I had left? Did he understand why I had? Did he think I just wanted to visit with my mom? Was my mom safe? Had she seen me be taken? Did the police know? Did anyone?

 

There was no way for me to get out of here. I took a single self-defense class years ago. A lot of good that would do me. I wasn’t strong enough to handle any one of those guys, and I might not see any weapons on them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t carrying. The thought of one of them pointing a gun at me or touching a blade to my skin had my stomach cramping up.

 

Relax. I had to relax. Stress wasn’t good for the baby.

 

Neither was the mom being kidnapped.

 

My hand went to my belly. I wasn’t far along at all. I hadn’t even had time to make an appointment with an OB yet. I didn’t know when my due date was. Would I be able to hold this baby? The only hope I had — that the baby and I had — was for Andrei to come for me. With his insistence about the bodyguards, he feared something like this would happen. He was paranoid, and that would hopefully make him puzzle everything out. But that still didn’t mean he knew where they would take me.

 

I never should have run away. Andrei had told me once he could only vouch for my safety at his place. I had thought leaving might give the baby a better chance at life, but honestly, that might not have been the case. I would’ve had to look over my shoulder, wondering if Andrei would ever come to collect the child. Plus, I would have had to find a job and medical insurance and I would have needed money for daycare. Yes, I could’ve tapped into the money Andrei paid for the child, but I hadn’t wanted my mom to worry or need money herself.

 

Leaving hadn’t been in the best interests of the child, and maybe I hadn’t only left for the baby. Maybe I had been terrified to realize I had fallen for a man who was a mob boss, who was a killer. And yet, here I was, imagining Andrei bursting in, firing shots, and killing my captors. He’d sweep me into his arms and carry me out of here. A chauffeur would drive us home and would ignore our wandering hands in the backseat and then Andrei would carry me inside his house and bathe me and then take me to bed.

 

But what if Andrei was angry with me for running away? I wouldn’t be able to blame him for that. He paid me to do a job for him, and I ran away without fulfilling my end of the deal. It would probably be easier for him to forget all about me, to leave me for dead, to find another woman willing to spread her legs and give him a baby.

 

My head lowered and bobbed, and although I fought sleep — too afraid of what the driver would do to me if he stopped standing there, staring at me — I eventually succumbed. My dreams were terrible and vivid, but when I gasped awake, my heart pounding, my forehead covered in sweat, I couldn’t remember what the nightmare had been about.

 

“You’re awake.” Handsy was back. Driver was gone.

 

I held up my hands as if to ward him off, even though he was standing several feet away from me.

 

He grunted.

 

Footsteps sounded, and I gripped the chair to keep myself from getting up and running away. The rope remained in the corner, and I did not want them to decide I was a flight risk and tie me. I would cooperate. Maybe they would grow lax. Leave me alone. Give me an opening. I wouldn’t be able to fight my way out, but maybe I could sneak away.

 

The driver entered. He carried a plate and a cup and held it out to me.

 

I took it. Burnt toast, some soup, and water. I drank some, but just looking at the food made my stomach churn. I was way too nauseated to even try to eat anything. Keeping my eyes on the guys, I slowly bent down and placed the plate on the ground.

 

I just wanted to get out of here.

 

I just wanted to go home.

 

I just wanted to be safe.

 

Would I ever feel safe again?

 

***

 

I dozed off again, too restless to sleep deeply. At one point, Handsy grabbed me. I struggled from him, but when the driver came over with his hand near his belt, I resisted. Handsy shoved the toast into my mouth, forcing too much in. I had no choice but to chew, and he crammed more in. It didn’t taste good going down, and it tasted even worse coming back up again. Only because of instinct did I turn away from both of them to puke. Wished I vomited all over them instead.

 

The driver cursed me, and Handsy gave me a towel. Before I could start to wipe my mouth, he was already yanking on my arm, pulling me along. Soon we were back outside. There weren’t any stars visible in the sky, and even the moon seemed to be hiding. No one and nothing were parties to the spectacle of the guys forcing me back into the car, touching me as little as possible, acting like I had cooties.

 

Never seen a pregnant woman before? I wanted to shout at them. I don’t have a disease. I’m not sick. You all are. For kidnapping me. For listening to your boss, whoever he is. Wonder how much their boss is paying them.

 

Just before the driver could shut my door, I shoved my leg out to block it. “Look, I don’t know who your boss is,” I said in a rush, “but whatever he’s paying you, Andrei can—”

 

“Andrei Petrov can pay our boss, who will then pay us.” The driver slammed the door so hard the car rattled.

 

I wiped myself off. Driver got behind the wheel and took off, driving fast but safely. Even though he wasn’t turning corners tight, my stomach didn’t appreciate any movement, and I wound up sick again. Neither of them made any comments, and I just did my best to grin and bear it.

 

Watching the dark scenery go by made my stomach even more nauseous. Closing my eyes worsened it. Nothing helped.

 

After what felt like an hour, or maybe even longer, the car finally slowed. The driver opened the door for me, and I practically fell out of the car. Handsy walked around to hold my one arm.

 

The house they led me through the back door of was massive. Almost as nice as Andrei’s. In the darkness, I didn’t see many details, but it still made an impressive sight.

 

This time, I wasn’t shoved into the basement. I was taken into a room devoid of furniture. Two windows with dark curtains. And another stupid chair. More rope in the corner.

 

The guys left me, and I heard the lock of the door. Not wanting to lie down on the floor, I opted for the seat. Resting in a chair, a metal fold-up chair, was so uncomfortable, but I didn’t wake up because I had fallen off. No. I woke up because my stomach was cramping again. Terrible, sharp bolts of pain.

 

Even worse was the blood I saw darkening my pants.

 

Oh no. Oh God. Was I…I couldn’t be…

 

The room was empty. No one was guarding me. I would love to try and sneak away, but I wasn’t sure I could get far, and if I left the room and found someone, I would be in an even worse way. Besides, the door was most likely still locked anyhow.

 

Well, there was one way to see if anyone was around.

 

I screamed like mad, blood curdling and terrified, almost a wail.

 

Immediately, someone approached, his or her footsteps pounding down the hallway outside. Good thing I didn’t try to leave. Another cramp seized me, and I gasped for breath. I wouldn’t have been able to get far anyhow.

 

The door opened to reveal Brute. He stared at me. “What’s…oh.”

 

I could only nod as I started to cry.

 

Without a word, he left and came back with a dark blanket he laid on the ground. “Lie down,” he said a little kinder than I would have expected.

 

Still crying, I lay down, curled up in a ball.

 

“Ah…what…um… I’ll go ask my boss what we should do.” And Brute practically ran out of there.

 

I was losing the baby. I was sure of it. No. No! This wasn’t supposed to happen! The baby was supposed to come in eight months. The baby was supposed to be born naturally. The baby was supposed to be breastfed. The baby was supposed to grow up to be an amazing person who would change the world. His or her life was supposed to be amazing. And long. He or she wasn’t supposed to die before he or she was even born!

 

All I could do was cry and pray and cry some more.