Chapter 17
17
Anya
“I still think you should tell them,” Breonna says.
She’s driving us into town on a fine winter morning. I’m in the passenger seat, fighting off a bout of nausea, as Breonna demonstrates surprising skills in maneuvering her Jeep down the snowy mountain in order to reach the main road.
“Well, I did tell them we’re going into town,” I reply.
“And after what happened with that Max guy, were they simply okay with you going off on your own?”
Breonna has her eyes on the road, but her tone speaks volumes, making me feel like a kid who lied to get out of school. “I’m with you. And I’ve got my phone with me,” I say. “It’s important that I retain some sense of independence. Besides, we’re keeping a low profile.”
“And lying to them,” she says.
“I don’t want to tell them about the doctor just yet, not until I see him and find out what he has to say.”
“It’s the pregnancy you’ve yet to tell them about. That’s my issue, Anya.”
“I will tell them when the time is right,” I mutter.
“They deserve to know.”
“I’m aware of that,” I sigh. “I just don’t know where we stand, okay? I don’t know what the future holds, and the last thing I want is to distract them with this new information while they’re still trying to work out the past.”
Once we’re on the main road, it’s a smooth drive into town.
“Speaking of, do you remember anything else?” Breonna asks. “About your past, that is.” A few blocks ahead is her favorite coffee shop, and I feel the need to do something nice for her. Chance made sure I had spending money for this “nice little outing,” as he so tensely called it. He’s yet to change his mind about Breonna, but he’s humoring me. It’s good enough.
“Hey, pull over here,” I say, pointing to the coffee shop on our right. “Let’s get something to eat first.”
“Anya…” But she hits the brakes, then gives me a hard look.
I shake my head. “I don’t like lying to them either. So, we’re going to go in there, get some specialty coffee and a box of fancy croissants, and then we’re going to visit the doctor, so I can get a proper checkup. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“You didn’t answer my question, though.”
“Everything I remember is like a bunch of pieces in a puzzle that don’t quite fit together,” I tell Breonna as she joins me by the coffee shop door. “Bits of a life I can hardly remember. It’s all fuzzy, but I do know one thing: There are people out there who want to hurt me. And, yes, I know I should stay up on the mountain until it’s safe but…”
“But what?” she asks, concern etched in her eyes.
“I’m tired of hiding. I think I’ve been doing it for longer than the months I’ve been here,” I tell her. “Living in fear. Putting my life on hold. It doesn’t feel right. I’d rather not have to look over my shoulder while I do the basics for myself and for my health.”
Breonna musters a smile. “You’re lucky the Hayes brothers are really busy today, otherwise, you know one of them would’ve come along.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
She doesn’t know why they’re busy, though. I don’t know that much either. Nico said it’s for my safety until they verify information they’ve gathered so far. Someone came over from New York with a fresh scoop. The brothers were talking for hours behind closed doors late last night.
Perhaps I should be more scared. But I am really tired of living in fear. It’s exhausting, and I need to make sure my baby is healthy before I gather the nerve to tell them about my condition. Thinking about it now, I’ve got a feeling I’m struggling between my past and my future, one potentially greatly affecting the other.
“You’re right about one thing, though,” Breonna says, glancing at the pastry display in the shop’s front window. “I could totally smash a pistachio croissant and a tall latte.”
“I’ll get mine decaf,” I grumble. “I’m supposed to cut down on my caffeine consumption.”
“But you can eat whatever you want, right?”
“I think so. We’ll see what the doctor tells me. I don’t think I have any allergies, otherwise, something would’ve popped up by now. At least among the basics, you know, like nuts, gluten, whatever…”
Breonna chuckles dryly. “Yeah, that would’ve been rich. Me coming over to apologize with pecan pie; you going into anaphylactic shock.”
We both laugh as we’re about to go into the coffee shop. The front door is made of reflective glass, and I catch a glimpse of myself. I look better. Brighter. Maybe this is the pregnant glow people talk about.
But a figure emerges behind us. His smile unsettles me as I gasp and whirl around to face him.
“Anya?” Breonna asks, following my terrified gaze as she turns around. “Oh, hi there. We’re just about to…” Her voice trails off.
“It is you,” the man says.
His voice isn’t just familiar, it is so deeply embedded into my nightmares, it has somehow found its way back to reality. He’s not a dream. He’s flesh and blood fueled by hatred and the lust for complete control.
“No…” I mumble, my voice barely a whisper.
“I wasn’t sure I’d find you here,” he says.
“Do you know each other?” Breonna asks me.
I give her a startled look. My hands are frozen, stuck in my pockets. I can’t take my phone out. “Call Nico. Please…”
“Anya, what’s going on?” she insists, her gaze bouncing back to the man.
“I’ve been looking for you for so long. I was worried I’d lost you again,” he tells me. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Be thankful I settled for you. It’s what he’d always tell me in my bad dreams.
My memories.
“Get away from me,” I manage and pull myself away from him.
“Anya, I’m just worried about you. Are you okay? Where have you been this whole time? I’ve been worried sick!”
“Get away from me!” I scream and bolt in the opposite direction.
I run as fast as I can, my boots thudding across the pavement. I slip on a stretch of uncleared snow, and a sharp pain shoots through my hip, but the adrenaline rush keeps me going. Without looking back, I leave them behind. He won’t hurt Breonna. His beef is with me.
“Oh, God,” I sob, my vision becoming hazy from a sudden influx of tears as I turn the corner.
My heart aches. My hip hurts. But my legs don’t stop. Even as the cold air stabs my lungs with every deep inhale, I keep running, turning left and right through the town as I desperately seek to put as much distance between me and Leo as possible.
“Leo,” I say out loud, finally remembering.
He’s not a man you forget. His evil ways are too deeply etched into my for me to ever forget him.
You should be thankful I settled for you . Nobody else wanted a fat princess with no actual life skills.
Oh, I remember it so clearly now.
Every poisonous word. Every smirk at the sight of my tears.
He reveled in hurting me, in making me feel less.
My head spins.
Ahead, the police station rises on the left side of the road. I’ll hide in there. Before I can reach the doors, my vision doubles and my knees go weak. I try to call out for help, to push myself forward, but I’m falling and then suddenly, the world goes black.
* * *
My eyes peel open. I’m on a bed in a sterile room. A cold white light on the ceiling damn near blinds me. I glance around. It’s a clinic or a hospital of sorts. Everything is pristine white, stainless steel, and sterilized plastic.
An illustration of the woman’s reproductive system hangs on the wall next to a poster of early pregnancy signs written in shades of pink on a pale blue background. The smell of disinfectant invades my nostrils as I take a deep breath. The beeping of a nearby machine draws my attention.
“Ah, good, you’re awake.” A woman’s voice startles me. I glance to the left corner of the room. A nurse in green scrubs comes over with a kit of sorts. She’s wearing latex gloves.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice raspy and weak.
“You’re okay. You fainted,” she says, setting the kit on the table next to my bed. “I just need to change your IV and put you on some prenatal vitamins. Your bloodwork was a bit of a mess.”
“I’m sorry?”
The nurse smiles softly, the creases at the corners of her blue eyes deepening. “You’re okay, I promise. The doctor will be with you shortly, but in the meantime, I need to keep pumping you full of the good stuff to get you back on your feet.”
“Okay.”
I’m too weak to protest, so I just lay back and watch as she sets up a new IV bag, following the line all the way down to the tube in my forearm, gingerly taped so it’ll stay in place. Everything that transpired before I got here comes back with a headache and a vengeance.
“Where am I? Who else knows I’m here?” I ask the nurse just as she’s about to walk out the door.
“Your friends are outside, worried about you,” she says.
“My friends?”
“The Hayes brothers. Well, two of them, anyway, and that redheaded neighbor lady of theirs.” She smiles. “The doctor will be with you shortly.”
Five minutes later, Dr. Rollins walks in, and I’m relieved to see a familiar face. “Oh, thank God,” I gasp.
“Anya, we need to stop meeting like this. First, a head injury, now a pregnancy. Got any more surprises I should be aware of? “He chuckles and goes over my chart with a furrowed brow.
“I’m not sure what happened, Doc. I passed out.”
“You did. But you’re going to be okay. I ran a full blood panel as soon as they brought you in. One of the first things we look for in women of your age is pregnancy. It told me all I needed to know to begin treating you quickly,” he says.
“Who brought me in?” I ask.
“One of the sheriff’s deputies. The Hayes brothers and Breonna followed shortly afterward.”
“Do they know?”
“About your pregnancy?” he asks, and I nod once. “No, I figured it’s your business. Patient-doctor privilege does apply.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Something incredibly stressful must’ve happened before you fainted,” he says. “I’m guessing it’s connected to your current, albeit recovering, retrograde amnesia. Have you made any progress since we last spoke?”
I nod again. “Yes. It’s slow, but yes.”
“Good. It means you’re likely to remember everything, eventually. Your brain is healing. It’s a positive sign,” he says. “Now, about your pregnancy.”
“Is the baby okay?”
“So far, yes. Your bloodwork showed some concerns, but nothing that can’t be fixed with prenatal vitamins and a change in your diet. We need to get more greens in you, Anya. Less red meat, more fish.”
“Okay.”
“You also need to take it easy with the memory recovery process. At the first hint of a headache, I need you to take a deep breath and find something else to do. Any increased stress should be avoided for the duration of this pregnancy.”
I give him a weak smile. “Thank you, Doc. So we’re good”
“I would like you to come in for a checkup in the next two weeks to make sure your levels are looking good. I’m also the town’s OB-GYN, otherwise, I would’ve recommended a different clinic. We’ll run an ultrasound during your next appointment.”
“And the morning sickness?”
He laughs lightly and takes out a box of pills from a nearby cabinet. “This is an herbal remedy, in pill form, but it’s the good stuff. I give it to all my pregnant patients, and over seventy percent of them reported fewer bouts of morning sickness. Here’s hoping you’re one of them.” He pauses and gives me a curious look. “Do you have any other symptoms you wish to address?”
“No, I looked it up online when I first took the test,” I tell him. “It seems to be pretty textbook at this point.”
“Rest assured, you’re in good hands. And the next blood panel we run will look a lot better in a couple of weeks, provided you make the changes I suggested.”
“I will. Should I be worried about fainting again?”
“Not if you can control your stress levels.”
“I will”
He pauses in the doorway. “I’ll see you in two weeks, Anya.”
“Okay.”
“Shall I let your keepers in?”
“Yes, please.”
I brace myself for what will follow. I can’t keep it under wraps anymore, not with Leo Sokolov in town, not with everything falling apart right in front of me. I’m scared, and I don’t want to do this alone.
All I can do is pray the Hayes brothers won’t reject me.
Or worse, sacrifice their lives and their freedom out of some misguided sense of responsibility. Too many people have already died to protect me. I don’t want Booker, Chance, and Nico to be three more.