10. Fia
FIA
Four days have passed of me sleeping, eating and peeing constantly because of how much weight is being pressed into my bladder.
I smooth my hand over my baby bump, still waiting for the twins to kick. The doctor said I should be expecting it soon.
Speaking of expecting things, I’m booked to see the midwife later today so she can perform an ultrasound and track any changes.
Hopefully, there are only good ones.
I want these babies to come out healthy more than I want my memories back, and I’m fighting through the brain fog like a trained warrior, determined to come out victorious.
For example, I’m still in the dark about how me and Emil met. Every time I ask him, he shakes the question off.
“Use your brain,” he says.
Brilliant fucking advice.
Desire consumes me every time we’re in a room together.
My heart beats erratically, my entire body melting.
The only thing my brain is good for at the moment is remembering what happened a few nights ago when he caught me red-handed.
My pussy still clings to the sensation of his tongue, the way it swept over my folds, wrapping around my clit.
Remembering that just makes me hungry for more.
Thankfully, work has been keeping him busy.
He flashes me smoldering looks across the kitchen as I’m making myself breakfast, comments something dirty every now and again, but he’s out of my hair for the most part, which gives me ample opportunity to escape.
Except, I find myself barricaded in his house this morning. I pull on the front door, yanking it open as hard as I can. Eventually, I collapse against the wall, catching my breath after the hardest gym workout of my life.
I’m completely locked in.
I shove myself up the other side, groaning. Him trapping me in his house reinstates the fact that I have to get out. The fear in Chloe’s eyes when I met her for coffee, plus Emil literally murdering a person, tells me I need to get out, even though my body is screaming at me to stay.
He could find me again, but at least I know not to check in at the same hotel again.
I march upstairs, which is becoming quite the challenge with two twins. I press a hand to my lower abdomen, walking into the bedroom. The window is open, the smell of sap permeating the air.
I walk toward it, sliding my finger over the glass and anxiously peering out. Escaping will come with some parkour, which I did the first time I escaped, climbing over that godforsaken gate.
I heave the window all the way up and begin, ducking under the glass, stepping down onto the ridge. I’d be screwed if it wasn’t for the veranda underneath me. I find my step and lower myself down from the window, flexing my fingertips as I hold onto the windowsill.
Being below average height throws a slight spanner in the works, but after finding purchase, planting both feet firmly on the veranda edge, I release the windowsill, finding my center of gravity so I can lower myself down.
I gasp, scrambling down from the veranda edge. I’m a short leap away from freedom, and this time I’m making a promise to myself to actually find it again.
After having it stripped away for three years, I’m ready to return to the world… I think. Walking back into the office after a year’s absence will trigger some questions. I’m not sure I even still have a job, but being five months pregnant with amnesia won’t stop me from doing what I love.
Work is the only thing in my life that makes sense.
I check the time on my watch, sneaking out of the side exit. I weave through trees, conscious that Emil could be watching, since he always seems to be around when I least expect. I make myself dizzy from looking over my shoulder constantly.
After concluding that the coast is clear, I run through the trees, zigzagging around each one, searching for the road. The property isn’t gated from the sides, only from the front. Emil really chose the most remote place to live in Seattle.
I head toward the tarmac, growing closer to the road since it’s finally come into view.
I catch my breath when I make it to the tree line, one hand on my heart, the other on my stomach. Sprinting through the forest on uneven turf, five months pregnant, definitely comes close to being impossible.
I keep to the tree line, using the vegetation to keep myself camouflaged as I navigate my way to the bus stop. If my sources are correct, I have a half hour to wait until the next bus arrives.
Exhausted and with a full bladder from all the running, I unbutton my pants and pee in the forest. These conflicting thoughts need to disappear soon so I can begin the rest of my life, raise the twins, and never look back, wondering what could have been…
“Oh my god,” gasps Chloe when she sees me stumble out of the bus.
I practically fall into her arms, letting her take my full weight. Her being a mixed martial arts instructor comes with its perks.
She grabs my shoulders, standing me back up.
“Let me feel sorry for myself for just a little while longer,” I groan, combing my hair away from my face.
“Drowning in your sorrows isn’t proactive, Fia,” she says, dragging me away from the sidewalk. “Where’s all your stuff?”
“Still in the middle of the forest at Emil’s. I had to climb out of the window, since he locked all the doors.”
Chloe’s eyes flare wide. She’s in for the shock of her life when I tell her about the rest of it.
“I have an ultrasound in an hour,” I tell her, slumping into the wall. “Will you come with me?”
“Does Emil know you have an ultrasound?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re staying far away from the hospital so he can’t kidnap you again.”
“The babies could have complications. They come first.” I slip my phone, bringing up the GPS. “It’s a five-minute walk from here. Come on.”
Chloe snatches the phone from my hand, zooming in on the location. “A private hospital,” she says. “And not just any private hospital. St. Hughes is the most prestigious hospital in the city. Where the hell does he get the money?”
I can hazard a guess…
I flash Chloe a look. “Come on. We’ll grab a coffee while we’re waiting and I’ll update you.”
Cars roll by, pedestrians spilling out onto the sidewalk.
Listening to the familiar sounds of the city, the blaring horns, the constant groaning of vehicle engines passing by, fills me with peace.
I feel like I’m living a normal life again, commuting to work drinking my single shot latte, business as usual.
I make it to the hospital, signing in at reception.
“Mrs. Volkova,” says the receptionist. “Welcome. Will your husband be accompanying you for the ultrasound?”
Dread fills every ounce of my body. Once again, I’m being reminded that I married the devil.
The receptionist’s smile turns sour as time passes, waiting for my response.
“Mrs. Volkova?—”
“I’ll be accompanying her,” says Chloe, resting a reassuring hand on my back.
After checking in, we head straight to the cafeteria, grabbing a coffee. For me, that’s a double shot latte, and Chloe points it out straight away.
“Good heavens," she sighs, taking a seat opposite me. “Soon it will be a triple shot.”
I look over my shoulder constantly, anxiety turning me cold at the thought of Emil secretly being here.
What will he do if he catches me again? Punish me in the bedroom?
Lock me into the handcuffs for being his naughty little girl?
One can fantasize, but the reality of the situation is very dire indeed.
Regardless of how my body feels about the man, trust is the foundation of every marriage, and I don’t trust him one bit.
“Excuse me?” I say, running over to the nurse, interrupting her break. “So sorry—is there any way my appointment can be pushed forward, say, fifteen minutes early? I’m in a rush.”
“I’m sorry,” says the nurse. “We need at least a day’s notice.”
I drag my heels, collapsing back at the table.
“There’s security here. Don’t stress.”
“Emil will be on a first name basis with all of them.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he broke into my hotel room. He knows the staff because I’ve been there multiple times, hiding, trying to get away from him.”
Chloe frowns. “And the staff don’t question anything?”
I grimace. “One of them did. He’s now dead.”
Chloe’s jaw falls all the way to the floor. Her eyes fill with horror. Just looking at her sends shivers down my spine. “Tell me you’re joking. He’s a?—?”
“Don’t say it.” I take a big gulp of coffee. Her saying those words aloud will only cause me to hate myself more.
“It gets worse.”
“Worse than him?—”
“He ate me out in bed,” I cringe, apprehensive of her reaction.
It’s not possible for Chloe’s jaw to hang open any wider, but she finds a way to defeat the impossible. “You didn’t.”
“There was one bed. And annoyingly, my husband is very fucking attractive. My body recognizes him.” Shame turns my cheeks red. “I was… doing something under the covers before we went to bed, and he caught me. One thing led to another. Before I knew it, his head was between my legs, his tongue?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” The intense look Chloe’s giving me suggests she’s living vicariously through me. “The look on your face says it all. You’re smitten.”
“Which is exactly why I have to get as far away from him as possible. My body surrenders. It feels like second nature to drop my guard and give him everything, but it’s selfish to indulge.
I don’t want a murderer raising my children.
I can already see the past starting to repeat, and this time it’s worse. ”
“You have to remain strong.” Chloe finishes her coffee. “We’re going to the police.”
“We can’t,” I panic. “It’s not that simple. Emil is working with others. He said something about his enemies finding me.”
“No shit he has enemies, when he kills an innocent hotel staff member.”
“Filing a police report against him is the last thing I need right now while carrying twins. Stress is bad.”