Quinn #2
I started making plans. I wasn’t sure exactly how this would work, but I had to try.
I had my Honda Civic stashed away in a storage locker.
Ravik thought it caught on fire in some field, but I couldn’t bear to be rid of my father's prized car. In the evenings, when I’d be let go, I’d work on the plan.
I had the car painted and a darker tint added.
My father had a trust fund for each of us children.
He was a financial genius and had everything set up for us to have rolling CDs, always having money each year.
Once we turned twenty, we had access to it.
Ravik had no idea they existed. My Titi was in charge of it before then.
All three of us siblings made a pact not to let him know, even Raphael, who had shown loyalty to him.
I slowly started taking money out and hiding it in the car.
I packed a suitcase of clothing, as well as some birthing supplies, that Callie had secretly gathered in case it happened in the car.
She knew about Zay. She was the first person I told.
I then had to tell my Titi, because she became an integral part of my plan.
She told me to wait until she was closer to thirty-six weeks.
That would give them enough time to get my cabin ready.
It was a family cabin I’d inherited, mostly used to go to when it was time to shift.
It hadn’t been used or taken care of since my family came to Tennessee.
I knew that she might hate me by the end of this and that there was no redeeming myself.
I accepted the role I had to play. If I started being nice to her and Ravik caught wind, I was afraid he would pull me away.
Who knows how they would treat her? Hell, Jimmy only watched her for a couple of hours, and she went into early labor.
Once we moved to the main house, it made it that much harder to make plans, as I was essentially cut off from the outside world, too.
When she fell asleep at night, I’d lock her in the room, find Callie, and relay messages through her.
He didn’t watch Callie’s movements, and she did a lot of talking to my Titi for me, making sure everything was going to plan.
They had gotten everything cleaned, and some furniture brought in. They had started to bring baby gear in.
I wasn’t sure how she would feel about this, but I was sure it was better than what I heard Ravik say. He planned to kill her right after she gave birth to the baby, then take the baby. I wasn’t even sure Daxyn fully knew what his father's plans for her were.
Once I heard that, I knew what I was doing was the right thing, even if it meant I’d be damned myself.
I thought it would be a normal night. I’d finally get to call my Titi, but fucking Daxyn always had to throw a wrench into my plans.
I didn’t get to call her that night to check in because Daxyn caused us to be late.
He shifted right there at the house. I barely made it into the woods before I shifted.
I didn’t get to call her in the morning because I had to come straight back to the truck, which I had to leave at the pack house.
As soon as I got near the house, the coppery smell of blood hit my nose, and it only got stronger as I went into the house.
I walked upstairs. The closer I got to the room, the stronger the smell got.
My heart pounded faster and faster with each step.
Distress radiated from the room. I unlocked the door, and Jimmy lay on the bed sleeping.
My head turned to the nursery-converted-room, and the door was closed.
My eyes locked onto the padlock on the door.
My heart sank into my stomach. Fear, sadness, and copper filled the air.
I was afraid to open the door. She always had some amount of fear and sadness emitting from her, but blood—no.
I walked to the door as fast as I could.
Jimmy sat up in bed, startled by my feet stomping.
I broke the padlock straight off the door.
I pulled the door open and stared at her.
There was blood all over the mattress. She was as white as a ghost. She cracked one of her eyes open and barely looked at me before it fell closed again.
Her other eye was purple and swollen shut.
I yelled at Jimmy, who came to see what I was yelling about.
He stood there, eyes wide, in shock. Something snapped in me.
I started punching, and I couldn’t stop.
I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to end his life, but I finally got myself stopped.
He took off running out of the room and down the hall.
I stood back up in the doorway. Looking all around the room, trying to figure out what was actually happening.
My eyes locked on the tiny little body cradled in her arms. She gave birth, and the baby didn’t make it.
She was far too early to deliver. That fucking bastard locked her in here, and she gave birth alone.
My heart shattered. Every emotion I had turned off flooded back in.
Footsteps pounded in the room behind me. She kept going in and out of consciousness. Ravik and a bunch of the other guys stood next to me, all staring at her.
“Dig a hole out by the old cellar, get rid of her and the baby,” he demanded.
“No!” I yelled. I hadn’t meant to yell, but it just came out.
“You’ll do as I fucking demand of you,” Ravik said.
“If you want to kill her, then do your own dirty work,” I told him, but I knew I wouldn’t let him do that either.
“Get rid of her, now!” he yelled.
Fine. I would. I’d indeed get rid of her.
I wouldn’t kill her. I couldn’t actually.
Part of the weird, twisted curse of being a werewolf is that the bound cannot kill each other.
Well, presuming both of them were werewolves.
Technically, she was a human, so those rules didn't bind her, but I was. Ravik didn’t know that, though.
Everyone left the room. I told him I needed to get some things.
I got Callie and Benji to help me and her get out of the room and into my truck.
I didn’t know if he wanted me to kill her there in front of him, and I didn’t wait to find out.
I found a wooden box that once held Cuban cigars.
Tears ran down my cheeks. The three of us ran into the room.
I walked over to the bed and crouched down.
I gently grabbed the baby from her arms. She didn’t want me to take him.
The only strength she had, she used to protest me.
I reassured her it would be all right. I grabbed her up into my arms while Benji carried the baby.
We didn’t have time to grab the Civic. Everything was improvised.
Callie was panicking, telling me how to get to Titi’s, like I hadn’t made the drive to Louisiana time and time again.
I was worried that she wouldn’t make it.
I often hit ninety miles an hour, trying to get there as quickly as I could.
I contemplated stopping at the hospital, but I knew that would make things much more complicated.
Once we made it to my Titi’s, she immediately called the doctor, who arrived in minutes.
I ran her into the little clinic room that was part of her house and placed her on the bed.
My Titi pushed me out of the room. I sat on the couch, head in my hands, tears rolling down my face.
Every bit of the last four months flashed through my head.
Could I have been nicer to her and gotten away with it?
Once we moved to the house, I’d been nicer but not nice enough.
If she survived, I owed it to her to do everything for her.
She may hate me forever, but at least she’d be alive to do it.
Titi and Dr. Arthur were doing their best to save her.
I pulled myself together, went to the truck, and got the box out.
I opened the box and stared at the little boy who lay in there.
A tear hit my hand. I hadn’t even noticed that I was crying again.
He was so tiny, only twelve inches. He had dark, fuzzy hair on the top of his head and lighter, fuzzy hair all over his body.
His cord and placenta were still attached to him.
I closed the box, pulled him close to me, and brought him back inside, placing him on the small table outside of the room Zay was in.
I went back out and started to scrub my truck.
There was blood everywhere. Thankfully, the truck had leather seats.
It wasn’t common, but I paid for the upgrade.
I scrubbed and scrubbed until my hands were pruny.
Just as I’d finished, Titi came out to find me. She let me know that Zay was stable. The doctor had to do a procedure to get out parts of the placenta, which is why she was bleeding so much. They gave her some blood, and IV fluids were currently running.
My Titi pulled me into a hug, and tears streamed down her face, prompting tears to flow from mine. I knew about her only daughter and how she lost her. I knew this probably hit home for her.
“She still doesn’t know, does she?” she asked.
“No…” I said.
“You might need to get to that conversation,” she said.