3. Savvy
Chapter 3
Savvy
24 Weeks Pregnant
I look in the mirror and don’t recognize myself. My makeup is done with an elegant smokey eye that makes my eyes pop more than usual. My hair is done in an up-do with curls falling all around my face and neck. My white dress is sleek and elegant with a sweetheart lace neck that goes off both shoulders. It hugs my upper body flowing into a beautiful sheer shimmer from the waist down. The back is a corset style still showing off the tattoo on my back, I got it after everything settled down from Bash. It’s a beautiful fleur-de-lis with the word love written in red in the center.
“Savvy, it’s time my sweet girl.” My mom calls out to me from the door.
I walk over smiling from ear to ear. I can’t wait to marry Sin.
I make it to the courtyard doors, taking my pops arm, so that he can lead me to the love of my life. I look up as everyone stands. “God Bless the Broken Road,” by Rascal Flats starts playing as soon as we make it to the deep purple isle runner covered in white rose petals, lined with white chairs decorated with bouquets of white and deep purple lilies, letting us know it’s time to start walking. I look up to see the man at the end of what seems like an exceptionally long aisle that I can’t wait to spend every day for the rest of my life making happy. That’s all I want. To be held in his arms and him in mine every day until we take our last breath. The aisle starts to fade along with Sin. Pops looks at me thoughtfully as he kisses my cheek before he is gone too and I’m standing alone in darkness.
My eyes pop open as tears start to fall at the realization that I was dreaming again, this time of our wedding day. It was the most magical day I could have ever hoped for.
Happy birthday Christian, or I think it’s his birthday today. I roll over to my side and pull the fluffy comforter up to my face as I cry. I wake up every day the same way, dreaming of my life before I was taken. By whom I still don’t know. I look around the vast room with all the furnishings of a loft apartment, with a makeshift kitchen. Light wood floors hold dark wood bedroom furniture with intricately carved lilies. Matching bookcases hold shelves upon shelves of books of all kinds, and the lavish light blue drapes match the bedding. It’s a lovely room. I’m just sick of it!
The same man brings me food and snacks and he would probably bring me anything I could think to ask for, if I would speak to him. The only thing keeping me sane is the vast library that is in this huge room. I see the sunlight come and go every day from the same bay windows with the perfect little reading seat. I always look out at the vast open land with nothing but woods in sight. I know I’m still in the south from the moss hanging from the trees on the tree line, leading into the woods, that I can see from up here. No one comes in here or talks to me except the guy that brings everything like clockwork and all he asks about is food. I haven’t left this room. I have a journal that I’ve been trying to keep track of time in, but who knows.
The one who brings me things still doesn’t say much, even though he acts like he wants to say a lot sometimes. I have a feeling he is still pissed that I knocked him out and made it to the stairs. He is a decent looking guy, always in an impeccable suit. He seems familiar, but I don’t know him from anywhere that I can remember. He has dark curly hair, tattoos, and dull grey eyes. He always looks sad.
I know I’ve been here at least six weeks. Tomorrow, I believe will make seven if I wasn’t out more than a day. I have no idea who took me or why I’m here. I expected to be chained up and tortured if it had to do with Bash, but that hasn’t happened. They don’t touch me unless I make them. I tried to fight but couldn’t and protect my bump, which is way more than a bump now. My belly seems to be growing daily. Yesterday when I measured, from pubic bone to the top of my uterus, I measured right at twenty-four weeks. I read it in a pregnancy book here that had a measuring tape in it, so I can keep up with the weeks by measuring it that way. There are a ton of pregnancy and baby books here. Maybe I’ll find a new one today. Sometimes I swear someone changes out the books as I read them with new ones once I put them back on the shelf. Some days I get really bored and rearrange the shelves for fun. I suppose I could do that again today, by color this time, maybe.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when I hear the lock on my door click before it opens abruptly. The man pushes in a cart like he does every morning full of food.
“Will you finally tell me your name so I can thank you properly for taking care of me. Whatever your reasons, I’m grateful.” I finally decide to speak to him as I raise myself up on my elbow trying to sit up. It’s not the easiest thing to do anymore.
He looks up at me with an almost surprised look on his face, expecting me to stay silent, “You can call me Max.” He replies stiffly as he takes the lids off of the trays of food. “What are you craving today? I’ll send someone out for whatever you would like.” He asks the same question he asks every morning. I usually don’t say anything. Since he gave me his name, maybe I should give him something.
“I have been craving chocolate almond ice cream, but with marshmallow cream and salted caramel, oh and pecans and whip cream, no cherry, please.” I stutter out the words, looking at the floor. I have honestly been afraid to ask for anything or do anything for fear of someone hurting me for my mouth, which will in turn hurt baby Kohl. I know his name isn’t settled yet, but I have wanted to name him Kohl since I found out it was a boy. I think Kohl was one of the most interesting characters in The Originals, and in the end, one of my favorites.I want to spell it differently than the one on the show though.
“Are there any other cravings you have been keeping to yourself? I’m not the bad guy here. My job is to keep you happy and healthy. Now that we are talking. I have a Dr. coming in to see you today. We have set up a room for you to get your checkups.” Max is vague but I can tell he is trying to be nice.
“I have been dying for Cajun alfredo. Could I have that for dinner tonight?” I ask, still covering myself with the blankets on my bed.
“You will also be meeting with someone particularly important today. She has had some business to deal with, but she is ready to meet you now. I’m sure she would be fine with that choice for dinner tonight. When you finish breakfast and are ready for the day, knock on the door and let the guard know you are ready, and I will come to pick you up for your appointment. We might get to see what you are having today.” Max gives me a small smile as he leaves the room shutting the door. I hear the lock click and throw the covers off and get up to eat.
The smell of butter and syrup makes my mouth water as I pour it over Belgium waffles. Luckily, the smell of syrup only made me sick once. I guess it could have been a slew of things that could have made me sick that day. I sit and ponder who I could be meeting? I didn’t think it would be a woman. I just can’t wrap my head around why I’m here or who is keeping me.I place my hand on my belly when I feel my baby kick, obviously happy with the waffles.
I finish eating and go to the ensuite bathroom and turn on the shower. The vast white marbled space fills with steam as I open the door to climb in after removing my nightgown. The hot water feels good on my sore shoulders and stiff neck. I don’t sleep much, and when I do it’s not restful sleep. The pillows aren’t as comfortable as mine, and I miss being embraced by strong arms. I miss his voice, his smell, everything that is my Sin. I sit under the water for a bit allowing myself to cry as I do every day. I finish showering and decide I might as well try to look presentable for whoever is coming to see me. I do my best to tame my wild hair and add a little lip gloss and mascara from the vast collection of makeup in the vanity. It’s like a showgirl’s dream. I would appreciate it more if I actually wore makeup.
I make my way into the larger-than-life closet and look at all the clothes that are here specifically for me, grouped by size. There are enough outfits in here to get me and an army of pregnant women through every trimester. I decided on a pair of black leggings and a button-up blue collared shirt with black flats. I sit on the couch in the center of the closet and let out a sigh.
I think about my friends, wondering if they are all okay. Is Cami close to having the baby or has she already had her? Will her aura match the names they have picked, or will they decide to start over? Is Mia having morning sickness or showing a bump of her own yet? I hope Abby and Jill followed through with Cami’s surprise baby shower. I wonder if the girls are helping Sin get baby Kohl’s nursery ready. I hope he painted it green instead of blue, but I don’t care as long as he does it, it will be perfect for him. I start to break down at the thought that I may never get to see his nursery.
I start to cry again, letting my thoughts get away from me again. I allow myself a few minutes and suck it up. I can’t let my emotions control me. I have to be strong for my baby. He is all that matters now, and it can’t be good for him to have his mother crying and hysterical all the time. I don’t want him to feel my heart breaking a little more every day that I’m stuck in here away from Sin. Kohl always starts kicking when I think of his daddy. I giggle when it feels like he’s doing somersaults in my belly.
I go back to the bathroom and remove the mascara I put on earlier, already having ruined it anyway. I look in the mirror and take a deep breath, count to five, and let it out. “You have to keep your cool, don’t let anything set you off. Keep baby Kohl safe.” I realize I’m talking to myself in the mirror again like a crazy person. It’s no different than when I used to give myself pep talks, I just do it more often now. I have to keep myself in check. I repeat the words over and over as I make my way over to the large door and knock on it until I hear the lock click.
I wait a minute and start to get annoyed, “Hello!” I yell, waiting for Max to open the door. Nothing happens, so I knock on the door again, harder this time, and stand back, waiting for someone to open the door. Max said if I opened it again myself that I would be restrained. I’m uncomfortable as it is, I’m not trying to make it worse than it has to be. Part of me knows I’ve given up and I’m letting them win. The part that only cares what happens to her baby is the one that has kept me from throwing everything he brought me at him like I did when I first woke up here. I screamed and broke anything I could at first, trying to just get out of the room. I only made it by him the one time after I hit him on the head with a lamp that was never replaced. There are just more people with guns who will stop me, and I’m sure more beyond them. If they let me come out and go to other rooms, they think I have completely given up.
I know I have to gain trust if I’m ever going to step outside again. I remember how Bash taught me to be. I can be her again if I have to. I can show weakness and watch and learn. The weeks that I’ve been here I have learned patience over everything. I watch as people come and go from my windows. There are more than I could count. I have learned faces that are frequent flyers. That’s what I call them. The only face I haven’t been able to get a glimpse of is a woman with black hair. She comes and goes freely. I wonder if she would be friend or foe.
I stand there for what seems like forever, but I’m sure it’s only a few minutes. Time stands still here, and I know I will go mad if I’m not let out of my cage soon. I startle when the door opens abruptly, Max stopping to look me up and down, as if he is seeing me for the first time.
“You look, lovely.” He says as he extends his hand for me to take it.
I get it, I rarely change from sweats or pajamas and never do anything more than a messy bun with my hair, but I don’t look that different.
I walk slowly to him, placing my hand in his. I swallow the lump in my throat as he raises the back of my hand to his lips, kissing it softly, then lacing his fingers into mine as he guides me out of the door. His hand feels foreign and awkward in mine. I leave it to show that I won’t fight him.
“I knew you would start behaving eventually. I have a surprise after your ultrasound if you keep it up.” He smiles at me as we pass the guards on the stairs walking down a hallway. He stops at the third door down from mine on the left side, opens it up and ushers me in.
It looks similar to every OBGYN office I have ever been to, just more tastefully decorated with everything they would need to deliver when the time comes. They have made this a surgical room. I feel a chill go down my spine at the thought of them cutting my baby out of me and taking him, leaving me for dead.
“Good morning, Savannah. I’m Dr. Kiefer. I’ll be taking care of you for the rest of your pregnancy. Do you have a birth plan that you would like to follow, or have you even thought about that yet?” The at least thirty something bleach blonde, with cute wire framed glasses, dressed to the nines, smiles wide at me, with a glare in her eyes.
“I planned on a water birth at home with my husband delivering our baby. I’m guessing you can at least do the water birth?” I don’t show emotion. I don’t smile or show any kind of hatefulness. I’m neutral. If I show any emotion, I’ll lose it and I can’t do that. I can’t let my baby feel the rage I have deep down in the pit of my existence. Unless I know I can win I have to play by the rules.
“We can absolutely do a water birth. I’m sure we have more than a few guards who would be happy to stand in for your husband to deliver your baby.” Her smile turns a bit sinister. I lower my head, not to allow her to see the rage boiling up. My problem isn’t just my mouth, it’s also my face, it says what I don’t most of the time. I’m trying to hold it together, but everything in me wants to rip out her fucking throat and watch the life drain from her face, while giving her the same sinister smile as she is wearing now.
“Kristina! Do not threaten her. You know the rules. If you can’t treat her, I will get someone else who can. Don’t push me.” Max raises his voice and I watch the power shift between them. She is a pet for sure the way her eyes dart down before her head follows.
“I’m sorry, Mr. De...” Max cuts her off, “Shut the fuck up and do your job. We will discuss this later in my office.”
He turns to me and helps me up on the table. Dr. Bitch waits for him to move away from me, but he doesn’t. I’m stuck between a woman, who is supposed to be a doctor who took an oath to protect people, standing with her head down, and a lunatic who wants to keep me safe. Who am I to him?Who is he in the grand scheme of things?
I finally lower my leggings below my belly and unbutton my shirt, leaving the top two buttoned. “Let’s see my little nugget and y’all can figure out your shit later. I haven’t had one slice of happiness other than those waffles this morning, they were good, anyway, I would like to see my baby. Obviously, you two do too or I wouldn’t be here. Come on get this going, I apparently have someone to meet today.” I choose to be my obnoxious self since seeing the ultrasound machine got me excited.
Max snickers a bit and the good ole doctor gets to work. The jelly she puts on my belly is warm as she glides around with the probe thing. I can’t help the tears that fall as I watch his perfect silhouette appear on the screen. The sound of his heartbeat fills the silence in the room, finally giving me a sense of peace.
“Do you want to know the sex?” she asks, showing a bit of emotion herself.
“It’s a boy.” I say with pride.
“Yeah, I thought you didn’t make it to your appointment to find out the sex?” She gives a bit of information that she more than likely shouldn’t have, looking confused. They have been watching us for a while.
“I didn’t. I just know.” I reply with a smirk.
“I’ll make sure to start interviewing the guys to see who is best suited to deliver a healthy baby boy.” She makes sure to get her point across as she hands me ultrasound photos and I lose it, seeing red. I come up off the table punching her in the face before grabbing her neck, digging my nails in, hoping I rip into her throat and fucking kill her.