Chapter 10

Becka

I stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand. I couldn’t believe it. But, the longer I looked at it, the more I understood that it was true. The more I began to remember exactly how strange, how different, I had been feeling over the last few weeks. I touched my stomach, largely unable to believe that there was now a life there other than my own. The bathroom suddenly seemed small, cramped, and I sat down on the toilet seat, staring at the stick in my hand.

“Are you okay?” Oliver knocked on the bathroom door. I jumped and dropped the test on the floor. It landed with a clatter on the tile, a noise far louder than I ever thought possible from a small piece of plastic. I quickly snatched it up and gripped it in my palm like a knife.

“I’m fine,” I called, too loudly. “I’ll be out in a minute!”

“Can I come in?” Oliver asked.

“No, honey, don’t come in, I’ll be out in a sec.” I hid the test under my shirt, which would have been useless if he’d actually walked in. I hadn’t locked the door, though, and I held my breath as I waited for him to turn the knob and walk in, regardless of what I’d said. There was a pause that felt like a year, and then he said,

“I’m going to make a cocktail; what would you like?”

My brain reeled. I squeezed the test in my hand. What was I supposed to say to that? I couldn’t drink, but I also couldn’t tell Oliver I was pregnant. Not now. If I said I wanted anything other than a cocktail, though, he would know something was wrong. I felt time passing and my opportunity to answer slipping away. I knew I had to say something.

“Um,” I started, hearing shaking in my own voice, “um, sure, yeah, I’ll have a martini,” I said. It was a drink we often had in the evenings, and the last thing I needed now was for anything to be out of our normal routine.

“Sounds good.” I could hear relief in Oliver’s voice, and I realized that I had, inadvertently, just passed a test. Had I answered differently, he would have known something was wrong. Relief washed over me, then dread. How was I going to hide this from him? “I’ll get them started. Maybe we could watch a movie? I know it’s late, but we’ve had so much going on. A quiet date night at home feels like the perfect way to spend the night.” I could hear him talking to the crack in the bathroom door, and I shook my head.

“Honey, can I please just have a minute here?” I asked finally, hiding the desperation I was feeling as much as I could.

“Shit, yes, I’m so sorry, of course.” I heard him walk away from the door, and I sat down on the closed toilet seat, my head in my hands. I looked at the test again as if I expected the results to be different. Of course, the two lines remained and, if anything, had grown stronger, more vibrant.

I entertained my options. I could tell Oliver. Telling him would take the tenuous place we were already in and shake it further. We had never discussed pregnancy. Hell, we had never discussed even moving in together! The only reason I was staying with him now was because of everything that happened. I wondered, if the press hadn’t gotten ahold of the Neurotova business, would we even still be dating? I thought so, but who knew? And, we definitely wouldn’t be living in the same house. No, I couldn’t tell him. He had never said anything about wanting children. I felt anxiety, in the form of a tiny seed, building my stomach. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror.

How could I have ever doubted that I was pregnant? Now that I knew, I could see it all over myself. The circles under my eyes, the softening of my curves, even the shine to my hair. I wrapped the test in toilet paper and put it deep in the trash, then thought the better of it. I took it out and slid it into the box of tampons I kept at Oliver’s house. Not a chance he would look in that box, whereas he might very well go digging through the trash if he began to suspect something. I took a deep breath, and walked out to the living room.

Oliver sat on the couch with his cocktail, but he stood the moment I walked into the room. He walked over to me and kissed me. I felt his lips on mine and the seed of anxiety grew. I wanted nothing more than to tell him everything, but, before I could open my mouth, he reached over to the bar and handed me the martini he’d prepared for me.

“Cheers!” he said, smiling. “To the beginnings of a normal life, just the two of us.” He clinked my glass and took a sip of his drink.

I smiled, my lips tight, and brought my glass to my lips. I immediately felt nauseous, and I knew that, even if I had any intention of doing so, I would not have been able to take any part of the drink into my mouth. It was as though the baby growing inside of me was protecting itself. Still, I pretended, and Oliver smiled, satisfied that everything was normal. I walked over to the couch with Oliver. We sat down and he put his arm around me. He brought up a movie we’d been talking about watching, and, for the first ten minutes, it was life as usual. But, my cocktail remained untouched while he continued to drink his. He didn’t seem to notice, but the glass seemed to grow larger than life before my eyes, and soon it was all I could think about. I imagined him asking why I wasn’t drinking it, what was wrong, was I pregnant or something… I couldn’t concentrate on the movie. I felt the seed of anxiety pressing deeper into me. I tried to steady my breath, but I began to feel the urge to flee, strong and urgent.

I looked up at Oliver, whose breath was deep and regular. He had fallen asleep! I looked at him, and then I looked at the door. Without thinking, I slid out from under his arm, grabbed my purse, and I ran out the back door. Luckily, most of the press had given up their vigil of Oliver’s home when we’d gone to France. There were still a few lingering, but at this time of night they were mostly locked up in their cars talking to their girlfriends and wives and, I imagined, trying hard to explain why they were staking out the home of a billionaire and his pregnant girlfriend. I was able to sneak out without being noticed. I went to the garage to take one of Oliver’s cars. I assumed the garage would be empty, but, when I keyed in the code and opened the door, Raymond was standing near the open hood of Oliver’s Lexus.

“Becka! What a surprise! Can I help you with something?” Raymond looked and sounded completely confused, but I knew that he wouldn’t ask any questions that dug into why I was there.

“I need you to take me home,” I said. “Right now.”

“Certainly, Ma’am. Does…” he hesitated. “Does Oliver know that you’ve asked to be driven home?”

“I’d rather not discuss it, if that’s okay,” I said gently. I didn’t want to put Raymond in the middle of anything, and I definitely didn’t want to get him into trouble with Oliver. I suddenly realized that Oliver may have given orders to Raymond to not drive me anywhere, and, for a moment, I looked around wondering wildly if I could run into town, or maybe, even, get a ride with a journalist in exchange for a story? Desperation built in my stomach and time seemed to stop as I waited for Raymond to respond, move, do something.

“Certainly, Ma’am,” he said finally, and he led me to the car next to the Lexus. It was sleek and black, and I had never heard of the brand. Relief flooded through me, and I got into the back of the car. The leather was soft and cool against my skin, and I realized I was sweating. We drove in silence the entire way to my apartment building. I watched the street lights get closer together and brighter as we got into the city. When Raymond turned the corner onto my block, he slowed the car and pulled over before he got to my building.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I sat up in the back seat and looked toward my building. “Oh, shit.” I saw why Raymond had stopped. The press had maybe given up on spotting Oliver and me at his place, but the same did not hold true for my building. Though it was nearly midnight, there were at least a dozen photographers positioned on the sidewalk.

“What would you like me to do, Ma’am?” Raymond asked. “The journalists won’t recognize this car, but they will, of course, recognize you once you get out.” He didn’t need to say what me getting out of a car with someone other than Oliver, even if that someone was Oliver’s driver and friend, would mean to the vultures looking for a story.

“I guess… um… just…” I hesitated, feeling my brain turning to must. “Just take me to a hotel,” I finished. “I don’t care which one.” I heard trembling in my voice, and I leaned back and closed my eyes. What I wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position on the back seat and forget that the world around me existed. I was exhausted, and I knew that the full weight of what was happening still hadn’t hit me yet. I opened my eyes and looked up out the window, watching the street lights… then I closed my eyes again. When Raymond pulled into the circle driveway of a Holiday Inn near my apartment, I thanked him.

“I’ll call Oliver in the morning. If you see him, please tell him not to worry.” I felt bad using Raymond as a messenger, but I also knew that Oliver would be worried, and angry, when he woke up and I wasn’t there. My hope was that he would sleep on the couch all night. If he woke up, I was sure to hear about it.

If the hotel clerk thought it was strange that a young woman was checking into a hotel room so late at night alone, looking exhausted and probably scared, he didn’t let on. He did make me pay in advance, which, of course, I did. I took the elevator to my room. I realized as I sat on the bed that I didn’t have so much as a tooth brush with me, never mind something to sleep in or clothes for the next day. I also realized I was starving, and I grabbed the room service menu from the nightstand drawer. I looked it over, but nothing looked even remotely appetizing.

I checked my phone for a message from Oliver, and, finding nothing, I called Lisa.

“Where are you?” she asked. “Are you still at Oliver’s?”

“I’m actually at a hotel,” I said. “You were right. About my illness.” I almost laughed at the word now. “I’m… I’m pregnant.” The word sounded heavy, far more dramatic than I’d intended.

“Holy shit, Becka, are you okay?” The concern in Lisa’s voice was immediate and evident. “What hotel are you at? I’m coming to get you.”

“You can’t,” I said. “There are reporters perched around the front steps. They’ll follow you wherever you go at this time of night; they know you’re my roommate and they’ll assume you’re coming to me. If you do manage to get out unnoticed and I come back with you, with my luck, they’ll probably smell baby on me. The last thing we need is for the press to get wind that I’m…. God.” I shook my head. I’d already said it once; I couldn’t say it again.

“I’ll come stay with you, then,” she said quickly. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight. What’s your room number?”

My first instinct was to protest again, but I thought about her words. She was right, and, at the very least, she could bring me some clothes. I gave her a list of the things I needed for that night and the next morning.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave right away and I’ll be there in no time,” Lisa promised.

I hung up the phone and I turned on the tv. I flipped through all of the channels and didn’t find anything that could hold my attention. After a while, I looked at my phone, frowning. Lisa should have been there already. I double checked my room key to make sure I’d given her the right room number, and then, after another ten minutes, I called her phone. It went straight to voice mail. That was strange; Lisa always kept her phone on. I began to worry that something had happened to her on the way. I tried her number again. Voicemail. I texted her.

Where are u? Are u ok?

I paced around my room, the tv on but ignored. I looked at the room service menu once more, and, again, decided against any food though I knew that I needed it, especially with another mouth to feed. While I was thinking of what to do, there was a knock at the door.

“Finally!” I said, getting off the bed and walking to the door. “I hope you brought some food with you, because I’m starving,” I said as I opened the door.

I stared, my eyes wide, at Ethan.

“You!” I burst out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Ethan

“Who was that?” I asked Lisa. I could tell by her reaction that it was Becka. I leaned in closely to her and brushed my lips against her neck. We were sitting on the couch. Lisa had crossed her legs toward me, and my hand had been warming her thigh throughout her entire conversation. Her sweet, short skirt showed off her gorgeous legs, and she’d leaned into me, tilting her head toward me so I could smell her hair, a light, crisp soap scent.

I had thought when I’d arrived at Becka and Lisa’s apartment that it might be a challenge to flirt my way into the house, but, as it turned, out, Lisa was more than willing; she was definitely a girl who liked to have a good time. When I’d arrived, she’d opened the door almost as if she’d been expecting me, and she’d invited me in right away and offered me a drink.

My primary goal, of course, was to find out where Becka was staying. I’d lost track of her, and I didn’t like not knowing where she was. But, there was no reason I couldn’t have a little fun while I was getting that information.

“It was Becka,” Lisa said. “I’m really worried about her.” She was telling the truth; worry flashed across her face, and I put my arm around her, pulling her close to me.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I said. “Maybe I can help.”

“You can’t, I know, it’s just… I’m really worried about her. That’s all I can say.”

I leaned in and kissed her lightly; her soft lips met mine hesitantly at first, then more willingly. After a moment, I pulled away. “You’re a very caring woman; Becka is lucky to have you as a best friend.”

Lisa stood up reluctantly. “I really need to go,” she said.

“I understand,” I said, standing up next to her. “Let me drive you to her.” I looked directly into her eyes. It was impossible for me to explain to her exactly how important it was that I see Becka; I would just have to use my charms on her and make them work.

The look on her face told me she was on the fence about telling me anything. I leaned in a bit closer.

“I…” she looked like she was struggling. “I really can’t.”

“I understand,” I said smoothly, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. I felt a spark of anger, but I stilled it. I took a deep breath instead, and smiled.

“Can I at least walk you to your car?” I tilted my head toward her intimately.

She smiled, a sense of relief on her face. I had hit the right side of the fence. “That would be really nice of you,” she said gratefully. “Let me grab her things and we can go.”

She quickly went to Becka’s room, and I finished our wine while she packed a bag. She emerged a few minutes later with a blue duffel bag.

“I think we’re good,” she said. “She’s just at a hotel down the street, the Holiday Inn. I’ll go meet her and spend the night there, then we’ll probably come back here tomorrow.”

I smiled and set down my empty wine glass. “Perfect. I’ll walk you to your car, and we’ll get you on your way.”

I followed Lisa down the stairs and she led me to her car which was, conveniently, parked right in front of my own. I smiled, remembering how I’d spotted her car while searching for a parking spot, sure it was hers because of how Becka had described it to me once when we were together.

“Are you sure you won’t let me drive you to meet her? I’m sure I can be helpful in one way or another,” I tried one last time.

Lisa turned and looked at me, then she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I reciprocated. “Thank you,” she said into my ear, “but I better go alone.”

“I’m sorry to hear you say that,” I said, and I quickly turned her around and put my hand over her mouth. Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle, but my former training kicked in and I was able to subdue her quickly. I took care; I didn’t want to hurt her, of course.

I tied her up and put her in the back of my Escalade. The windows were tinted enough that she could be comfortable on the seat without being seen. Well, I smiled, as comfortable as someone could be when they were tied up.

“Sorry,” I whispered to her, “but I did offer to drive you myself.” Her eyes were wide and scared. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you, and I’m not going to hurt her. I love Becka; I just need to talk to her.”

I got into the front seat and turned up the radio. I’d put a piece of tape over Lisa’s mouth, but she was still making a lot of noise, and I was trying to think about what I was going to say to Becka to convince her that she could trust me. Convince her that my motives were pure.

The Holiday Inn was just a few blocks away. I parked on a side street and checked Lisa’s bonds to make sure she was still secure. I left the car running with the radio turned up. I closed the doors and locked them and, as I walked toward the hotel, I smiled; the only sound coming from the Escalade was the thump of my bass.

A few minutes later, I was standing at Becka’s door. The lovely, gorgeous young woman at the front desk had been more than happy to give me Becka’s room number when I’d convinced her I was Becka’s brother and had brought her a few things she’d forgotten at my house. I probably could have told her anything; she was looking at me like I was Brad Pitt.

I knocked softly on the door. I heard her walking toward the door, saying something about being hungry. The door opened and she gaped at me.

“You!” she said sharply. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet someone,” I said, standing in the doorway of her room. “Especially someone trying to do you a favor.” I didn’t step toward her; it was important for Becka to fully trust me. I had already done enough to wreck that trust, and I didn’t want to do it again. I was taken aback by how beautiful she looked, and I was reminded that it had been a rather long time since we’d seen each other.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She was obviously flustered, and I felt badly for her. “I was expecting Lisa.”

“I know,” I said. “Lisa couldn’t make it; she sent me to pick you up. I’m here to help you.”

“She couldn’t make it? What do you mean?”

“She texted me; I happened to be in the area. I think she said her car wouldn’t start or something. She was really panicking because she knew you were expecting her. So, I told her I would swing over and explain what happened.”

“Why didn’t she just text?” Becka asked. There was confusion on her face, but there was something more as well. She was stressed out, exhausted.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, sure,” she said, and she stepped out of the way. “I’m just… I guess I’m just hungry.”

“I’m sorry, I should have thought to bring something,” I said. “I just wanted to get here to you. I’m here to help you.”

I led her to the bed and encouraged her to sit down. She protested, but I told her she looked absolutely exhausted, and she agreed. I ordered a pizza from room service, and then I joined her on the bed. We sat face to face, and I gazed into her eyes.

“Now,” I said, “tell me everything.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said. She was obviously uncomfortable, and I felt bad. I leaned in to her and kissed her.

“I’ve been watching the news, Becka,” I said gently. “I haven’t contacted you because I know that you’ve been away, and I know that you’ve been struggling with all of this. It has to be really hard to become a part of this world under such ridiculous circumstances. This isn’t normal; I’m sure Oliver has told you that.”

“I don’t even know what’s normal and what’s not anymore,” she said. She put her head in her hands. I put my hand on her knee and she looked up at me. “I’m supposed to be with Oliver right now.”

“I know,” I said. I felt that clip of anger bubble up once again, and I worked to squelch it. All of this was Oliver’s fault. I knew at some point the truth would come out; the question was, how many people would have to be hurt in the time before that happened.

“He would kill us both if he found out we were here together.” She looked up at me suddenly, her eyes wide. “Imagine how this looks! Oh my God!”

“He won’t find out,” I said gently. “Becka, I’m just here to help you.”

The doorbell rang and Becka jumped up, panicked.

“It’s the pizza, Becka,” I said. “Sit down.” I grabbed my wallet and walked to the door. “Who is it?” I asked, looking at Becka meaningfully.

“Room service!” said a voice on the other side of the door.

“See?” I said, then I opened the door. I paid for the pizza and tipped the server, then brought the pizza to Becka. “Eat.” I handed her a plate and napkin. She grabbed two pieces of pizza like she hadn’t eaten for a week and attacked them.

“I’m starving,” she said. “I had no idea how hungry I was.” She looked up at me and I smiled. I’d watched her work her way through the pizza, her adorable mouth filling with each bite. I leaned in and wiped a small bit of grease from the pepperoni from the corner of her mouth.

“Cutie,” I said.

She smiled. “I actually feel quite a bit better now,” she said. “I’m just so confused about what’s going on.”

“Becka, I need to tell you the truth. You deserve to know, and I need to get it off my chest.”

“What is it?” she was fully attentive to me, the remainder of the pizza forgotten, at least for the moment.

“I’ve been in love with you from the moment we first met that night for drinks,” I said. I took a deep breath; I needed to lay everything out. It was my one chance to win her over, to take her away from Oliver and bring her over to the side of right and truth. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to love anyone like I love you. I can’t stop thinking about you. When I imagine dating, the only person I can think of is you.” I spoke the words with conviction; they were absolutely true.

“Ethan,” she said.

“Let me finish,” I said. I put my hand on her leg. “I want us to be together. I don’t know how to break the hold that Oliver has on you, except to say that all of the things that are causing you stress, the press, the stuff with your college, your dissertation, all of that anxiety will go away once you get Oliver out of your life. Think about it, before you met him, everything was going along just fine, right?”

She looked at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen. I swallowed.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s true.”

“That’s because Oliver can’t possibly love you like I do. He can’t make you happy. I can.”

I grabbed her hands and squeezed them.

“I’m not sure I trust you either,” she whispered. She was talking as if I wasn’t in the room. “And, besides, I’m pregnant. Oliver is the father.”

I saw red. Every muscle in my body tensed up and I squeezed my fists together to keep myself from jumping off the bed.

“What does that mean?” I asked. I was trying to keep the fury out of my voice, but, judging by Becka’s reaction to me, I wasn’t doing a good job. She stood up and backed a few steps away from me.

“I don’t know what it means,” she said. “You sound so angry. I’m sorry.”

“Are you going to keep it?” I asked. The idea of Oliver getting everything, Becka, a child, getting out of Neurotova completely unscathed… I felt my peripheral vision shrinking down as all I could see was an image of Oliver in front of me.

“I already love my baby,” the image said.

I pulled my fist back, which had been tightening with anger the entire time, and I punched Oliver in the face. The image fell to the floor, knocked out cold.

Oliver

When I woke up and Becka was gone, I panicked. I went to the bedroom and, when she wasn’t there, I went downstairs to the entry to see if her purse and phone were there. When they weren’t, I went to the garage.

Raymond was there, working on the car.

“Where is she?” I asked. I wasn’t angry at Raymond; I had given him permission to take Becka anywhere she wanted to go at any time.

“I took her first to her apartment, Sir,” he said. “Her apartment was swarming with media, so I took her to a hotel near there, the Holiday Inn.” He was already wiping his hands. “I’ll take you there now.”

“I’ll go get my phone and wallet,” I said, and I ran into the house. When I got my phone, my message light was blinking. I smiled, assuming it was from Becka. When I slid my phone to unlock, though, it was from a number I didn’t recognize.

Oliver, this is Lisa. Meet Becka and me at the Holiday Inn by our house. Room 342. Becka needs you.

“Raymond!” I yelled. “Call the police—tell them to meet us at the Holiday Inn, room 342. Becka is in trouble.”

I don’t know exactly how I knew that Becka was in trouble, but I did. I jumped in the car with Raymond and we sped to town. The entire way I imagined the worst, and the drive seemed to take forever. When we arrived, I ran past the front desk and, without waiting for the elevator, bounded up the stairs to room 342. I knocked on the door, and, when I didn’t hear anything, I kicked the door open.

It took me a moment to completely take in the entire scene before me. I saw Ethan first, and I almost didn’t recognize him for a moment. Lisa wasn’t anywhere in sight. Becka was… I scanned the room, then my heart jumped into my throat as I saw a crumpled up figure on the floor.

“Becka!” I rushed over to her. She was unconscious, but still breathing. I looked at Ethan, who was standing still, staring down at us. “What the fuck did you do, you lunatic?” I jumped up and attacked Ethan, my fists connecting with his face, his jaw, his chest. He didn’t fight back right away, but, when my fist met his jaw for the second time, he snapped out of whatever trance he was in, and he began to punch me back.

“I’ll kill you!” he shouted. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Not if I kill you first,” I screamed back. “You’ve messed with my life for the last time. This ends here, Ethan, one way or another.”

Ethan grabbed my shoulders and we began to wrestle around the room. He shoved me into the television, which, rather than falling, pushed me into Ethan because it was bolted to the table. I used the momentum to try to head-butt Ethan, but he dodged me.

“Nice try, sissy,” he said.

Rage filled me, blinded me, and I pushed him as hard as I could. He fell to the floor and I dropped down on top of him, punching him in the face again. I heard the sound of his nose break beneath my fist, and I smiled. That distraction cost me, though; he sat up and flipped me over, pinning me underneath him. He reached his fist back to punch me, but, before he could, I heard loud footsteps in the hallway.

“Break it up!” a cop yelled as he ran into the room. He pulled Ethan off of me and kept us apart with one swift motion, sending Ethan onto the bed and me against the wall. “Get your hands up, both of you!” His gun was drawn and he was angling it at both of us.

“Officer,” I said, “you need to arrest this animal; he tried to kill my girlfriend!”

Another officer had run in and was tending to Becka, who was still lying on the floor, not moving. I heard the cop radio to call an ambulance.

“Everyone calm down,” the officer said. “You, shut up.” That was to me. To Ethan, he said, “Put your hands behind your back; you’re under arrest for assault, at least, and whatever else we can find went wrong in this room.”

“I need to go with you to the hospital,” I said to the female officer.

“We’ll decide that when the ambulance gets here,” she said.

Raymond came into the room with a third officer and Lisa. Lisa looked terrified, and there was blood on her cheek.

“James,” the new officer said to the one handcuffing Ethan, “we found this woman tied up in the back of an Escalade registered to Ethan Hernandez. That’s him.” The officer pointed to Ethan.

“Great, buddy, we’ll go ahead and add a second assault charge and a kidnapping charge to your Christmas list tonight. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”

While the officer read Ethan his rights, the paramedics arrived and I convinced the other officers to allow me to travel to the hospital with Becka. The officers agreed, as long as I agreed to go in handcuffs. “Whatever,” I said. “Whatever gets me there with her.”

Raymond drove Lisa, who also needed to get checked out. The entire way in the ambulance, I held Becka’s hand with my cuffed hands, and I talked to her, even though she was unconscious. I asked the paramedics tons of questions, but each question was met with the same answer: they wouldn’t know anything until she was fully examined, and a doctor would talk to me when we got to the hospital.

When the ambulance arrived, they sent me to the waiting room while they took Becka to be examined. I paced the room, waiting impatiently. Raymond walked into the room.

“How is Lisa?” I asked.

“They won’t tell me anything because I’m not family,” he said in his eternally calm voice. “But, she’s awake and talking, and the cut on her face seemed pretty superficial, so my guess is she’s okay. Physically, that is. She has to be completely traumatized by what happened.”

“What did happen?” I asked.

“Apparently Ethan was at Becka’s apartment when Becka called Lisa. He flirted with Lisa to get Becka’s location, then basically forced Lisa to take him to the hotel. When she refused, he tied her up and went anyway. Becka opened the door because she was expecting Lisa, most likely, not that rat Ethan. After that, I don’t know; Lisa was tied up in the car for at least two hours, she said.”

I shook my head. “He’s gone too far this time.”

“You got some good hits in, Sir,” Raymond said. “They brought Ethan here before bringing him to jail so he could get stitched up.” His lips twitched in the makings of a smile. I smiled too, in spite of the situation.

“Good,” I said. “He deserved every one.”

The doctor walked in. “Which of you gentlemen is Oliver Weeks?”

“That’s me,” I said, standing up and walking over to the doctor. He was in a lab coat and his name tag said Dr. Nguyen.

“I’ve been examining Becka, and she’s going to be just fine.” He smiled as I sighed with relief. “She took a pretty hard hit, and it’s never good when someone is unconscious for that long, so we’re going to keep her overnight for observation. But, she’s going to be just fine, and the baby is going to be fine too.”

“Baby!” I exclaimed. “What baby?”

The doctor shifted. “Becka is pregnant, Sir. Approximately nine weeks. It’s possible that she doesn’t yet know that she’s pregnant. Unlikely, but possible.”

I looked at Raymond, whose eyes shifted modestly to the floor.

“I need to see her right now. Is she awake?” I demanded.

“Sir, she’s awake, but she’s been through a lot. I would suggest that, if you do want to see her, you calm yourself down. Any further stress could cause damage to both Becka and the baby.”

I took a deep breath and sat back on the couch. The doctor excused himself and left the room. I looked over at Raymond.

“What fucking baby?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Sir,” Raymond said. “But, I do know that Becka is a good woman, and she’s been through a lot of hell lately.” He was polite about his opinion, and even I had to admit he was absolutely right. I thought about how I had contributed to creating a world for Becka in which she couldn’t even go to her apartment when she wanted to, for fear of being bothered by press. Her dissertation had been put on hold. She had been endlessly patient with me, I knew that. But, the thought of a baby, and that she knew about it and hadn’t told me?

“Why didn’t she tell me about the baby,” I asked. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sure she had a good reason, Sir,” Raymond said.

The thought that was plaguing me became too big to keep in my head, and the words fell out of my mouth in a tumble. “What if the baby is Ethan’s?” I said. “What if it’s not even mine?”

Becka

I woke up in a hospital bed. Before I opened my eyes, I heard the sounds of a machine marking my heart beat rhythm, and confusion immediately filled my mind. My face hurt. I opened my eyes.

I saw Oliver sitting next to my bed, watching me. Concern was written all over his face, and, when he saw my eyes open, he smiled in obvious relief.

“My God,” he said. “I was so worried.”

“Oliver? What happened?” I barely recognized my own voice.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” His voice was hoarse and he looked to me as if he’d aged twenty years since I’d last seen him.

My eyes welled up with tears. “I don’t know,” I said. “I thought that you wouldn’t want the baby. That you wouldn’t want me. I had no idea until tonight, I swear; I wasn’t keeping it from you.” I reached down and touched my stomach. “Is the baby okay?” Suddenly anxiety pushed through me so hard I thought I would throw up. I didn’t know what had happened; the only thing I remembered was going to the hotel. Had there been an accident? If anything had happened to the baby…

“The baby is fine, and so are you.” Oliver stood up and moved to the bed. He sat on the side of the bed and grabbed my hand. I felt the sensation of cold metal and I looked down.

“Why are you in handcuffs?” I exclaimed. “Oliver, what the hell happened tonight?”

“Ethan happened,” Oliver said grimly. “What do you remember about tonight?”

I thought back. “I remember taking the test. I was in the bathroom. You asked me if I wanted a drink, and I panicked because I knew I couldn’t drink. I told you I wanted a martini, because I knew that would be a normal thing.” I looked away from Oliver’s eyes. The more I said, the sadder he looked. “Then… I don’t remember anything else. How did I get here?”

Oliver explained that I had asked Raymond to drive me home first, then to a hotel because of the press outside the building. I had called Lisa, but Ethan had somehow intercepted Lisa and he’d arrived at the hotel instead of her, pushing his way in. When I’d told him I was pregnant, he snapped, and he punched me.

“Ethan hit me?” I gasped.

“He hit you,” Oliver said. “So, when I arrived, he was there, and you were unconscious on the floor.” He closed his eyes, and, when he opened them, they were glistening. “I never, ever want to see that image again. You were crumpled on the floor, looking so vulnerable and…” he winced and shook his head. “I lost complete control. Ethan and I got into a fight, and that’s when the police arrived.”

“The police?” I had no memory of any of this happening; it seemed completely surreal.

“The paramedics took you to the hospital and they arrested both Ethan and me, though I’m sure the charges against me will be dropped. Raymond is at the police station now on my behalf.”

“What did they arrest Ethan for?” I asked slowly.

“Three counts of assault—for you, me, and for Lisa. And for kidnapping.”

“Kidnapping?” This kept getting worse. I tried to imagine Ethan, but, when I brought his face into my mind, all I could see was Oliver in front of me.

“He kidnapped Lisa,” Oliver said gently. “She’s okay, I promise,” he said quickly when I tried to sit up. “Be still. He tied her up in the back of his car because she wouldn’t take him to you. He tricked her.”

“Oh my god,” I moaned, closing my eyes. “Poor Lisa.”

“She’s okay, and, thanks to quick medical attention, so are you. And so is our baby.” He squeezed my hands and leaned over, kissing me.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“Well, the plan I was waiting to tell you about has been set into motion. Would you like to see it?” His eyes took on a glint of satisfaction, of pride.

“Um, hell yes,” I said. “And it’s about fucking time.” I was as mad as my voice let on, but I didn’t have the energy to create yet another argument over it. From the sounds of it, there had already been enough fighting for one night.

Oliver reached for the remote with his poor, handcuffed hands, and he turned on the tv. On the news, the newscaster was saying that their station had received a video statement from Billionaire Oliver Weeks, and they would be playing it in its entirety now.

I looked over at Oliver, but he just smiled at me. The video switched over to a picture of Oliver, sitting at his desk in his home office. He looked at the camera, a grim smile on his face.

“Thank you for your attention to the statement I’m about to give,” he said in a quiet, but confident voice. “I know that there’s been a lot of attention and questions around my life lately, and around the future and the past of my company, Neurotova. I’m here to officially set the record straight and answer all of the questions that have surfaced.”

I squeezed Oliver’s hand.

“An accusation has come up that Neurotova has participated in animal experimentation as a part of our food science research. That accusation is true. The experimentation, which includes countless examples of shameful animal cruelty, was done by my brother, Ethan Weeks, who goes by the name Ethan Hernandez. Mr. Hernandez, with reckless disregard to the company, to animals, and to the public’s belief in the good work that we do, continuously lied and performed dangerous acts to animals in the name of capital.

“I am here today to tell you that I knowingly paid Mr. Hernandez to keep quiet about what had gone on. I am ashamed about my role in this activity; I now know that I should have gone to the police immediately and confessed both Mr. Hernandez’s wrongdoing and my own. Instead, I thought I was doing the right thing by covering it up. I thought it would go away. I was wrong.

“It was my beautiful girlfriend, Becka Jasper, who found out the truth and who convinced me that I could remain silent no longer, though she doesn’t know I’m coming out with this information tonight… yet. My love for her is stronger than any I have ever known, and I am willing to risk my company, my reputation, and my wealth all for the ability to know that I am being completely truthful with her, and with you, the public.

“And, because I know that I need to atone for my part in this cover up, I have already made a deal with an interested international investor, who has agreed to pay top dollar for the incredibly valuable Neurotova company. Rather than reinvest the money, I will be donating ninety percent of the sale of the company to Animals Now!, an animal right’s organization that protects animals from exactly the type of threat I used to condone with my actions. This amount will be in the billions, though the exact amount is yet to be determined. In addition, I will be volunteering my time with Animals Now at least once a month, because, the one thing Becka has taught me over all others is that money does not take the place of human contact.”

“Tomorrow, I will be holding a public press conference to which any and all media are invited to participate. I will answer your questions truthfully and directly. I want to take this opportunity to apologize to Becka Jasper, to the employees of Neurotova, and to you, the public, for my shameful part in this charade. It stops today. Thank you.”

The video stopped and the screen returned to the newscaster. “Well,” she said. “That was quite an announcement from billionaire and CEO of Neurotova, Oliver Weeks…”

Oliver turned the tv off and looked at me. I was speechless.

“You… you’re selling Neurotova?” I asked, my voice as small as I’d ever heard it.

“It’s already sold,” Oliver said proudly. “The deal has been in the works for weeks, but I didn’t want to tell you about it until I had both sealed the sale and decided which charity should receive the money.”

“How did you decide on Animals Now!?” I asked. Animals Now! was my favorite animal charity; I had been volunteering with them for years, but there was no way for Oliver to know that; I hadn’t told him.

He blushed. “When I was at your apartment, the day you accused me of stealing your research, I saw a postcard from them with your next volunteer date. I thought that if you volunteered for them, you must believe strongly in their work.”

“I love you,” I said. I was trying to keep from crying, but it was difficult. The only thing holding me together was how completely overwhelmed I was.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and he leaned in to kiss me.

***

The press conference went off without a hitch the next day. The media focused their questions on the sale of Neurotova, and on Oliver’s future with me. I stood by his side, and we announced our pregnancy and upcoming marriage plans.

“What will happen to Mr. Hernandez?” one of the journalists asked.

“There are charges pending,” Oliver said, “against him. For kidnapping, assault, animal cruelty, animal experimentation, theft, and extortion. He’s going to jail… probably for the rest of his life.” Oliver squeezed my hand.

When we got home to Oliver’s house, I collapsed on the couch. Oliver sat by me and began to rub my shoulders.

“Lisa is coming over in a few hours,” I said. “Raymond is going to pick her up. I think we should invite Raymond to join the three of us for dinner. He was invaluable in this whole thing; he saved Lisa and he kind of saved me.”

“Agreed,” Oliver nodded. “What time is she coming over?” He winked at me, and I knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Seven,” I said. “That’s plenty of time for us to go upstairs and…”

“And work on your dissertation?” he teased. Dr. Evans had called and let me know that, now that the truth was out, I had the college’s most sincere apology and an invitation to return to my research and my position as instructor immediately.

“Um, if that’s what you want to call it,” I said in a low, sexy voice. I reached over and felt the tightness of his jeans covering his arousal. “I’m quite certain I can put my hands to better use than typing on a keyboard, though…”

He kissed me hard, passionately, and I wrapped my arms around him. He lifted me up and swung my legs up to carry me upstairs. When he dropped me gently on the bed and climbed on top of me, I knew that I was home. We made love, long and gentle, and when we were done, we did it again. We had lost time to make up for, and I knew that we had a lifetime ahead of us.

The End