Chapter Twenty-Seven
SLOANE
WHEN THE guy tossed me into the back of the van, I did my best to hide in the corner behind the passenger seat to make myself as small as possible.
My leg is hurting too bad to move around much, I don’t think it’s broken but even moving my foot sends sharp pains up my leg.
My eye is swollen shut so I can’t see well enough in the dark van to inspect my surroundings.
After that asshole jerked me up off the ground, the wad of spit that hit the side of my head started to run down through my hair and I had to clench my teeth and hold my breath to keep from crying.
All I can think is that I must have been a horrible person in a previous life to deserve the level of evil that is my payback now.
Three other girls in the van with me all look like they haven’t seen a shower or clean clothes in a few days. No one will look at the other and the brief eye contact I made with one of them was cut short when she quickly lowered her head and looked at her knees.
The fear in the van is palpable and could be cut with a knife. If only I had a knife. The guy who tossed me in the back of the van gets in and closes the doors before he sits against one side.
He smirks as he looks me over, “You must be the girly who fucked up his neck, you’re lucky he didn’t kill ya. The boss told him no-can-do; he wants to make his money back for ya.” Then he cocks his brow, “I guess it’d probably been better if he’d killed ya, huh?”
Not wanting to look at him, or even listen to him anymore, I mirror the girl who didn’t want to look at me before and keep my gaze down.
Looking around close to me for any type of weapon, I’m disappointed to see that it has been cleaned out. There is nothing, not even remnants of the floor liner that has been ripped out to leave a crappy metal floor.
The sway of the van as we move starts to make me nauseous and I take deep breaths to try to keep from heaving in my lap.
I noticed the other day that my breasts were sore, but I dismissed it as PMS, after the run-in with my brother, I was so distracted by fear and worry that I didn’t notice I hadn’t started my period.
My already fast-beating heart starts to beat so hard against my chest that it feels like it is trying to break through. What have I done? I never should have walked out of that house; I should have gone to Mason as soon as I saw that note.
I wonder if he would have thought that I was trying to trap him. Would he have questioned if the baby was even his? Would he have rejected both of us?
Maybe he would have accepted us.
If there is a life growing inside of me, have I sentenced it to death?
I thought I could handle this myself, the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for anything happening to Lainey Rai, but I’ve messed up by thinking I could do this on my own, I’ve stepped into a trap I can’t get out of.
Oh no, what have I done?
Letting my forehead touch my knees that I’ve pulled up to my chest, I close my eye and remember how it felt to be wrapped in Mason’s arms last night. His sweetness when he pulls me to him after we have sex is a memory that brings tears to my eyes.
He likes to rub his beard against my ear and throat as his arms squeeze me to him. He may be some kind of hotshot military guy, but he’s always soft and gentle with me.
The longer we drive, the bigger the ball of panic swirling in my stomach grows.
We’ve been driving for a while and the shakes that started in my stomach have moved to my arms and legs, I glance at the other girls and they have taken a similar position as mine, folding as tight into themselves as possible.
Maybe, like me, they are hoping to disappear into the ether. Or maybe we’ll have an accident and end our nightmare.
Slowing to a crawl, we pull onto a gravel road, the rocks flip up under the van and ping against the underside. The sway of the van gets even worse on the unlevel road, and I feel like I might throw up anyway.
Soft silence replaces the crunching of the gravel as we start to back up. Now fear, panic, and motion sickness make me turn my head and I heave to my side, but nothing comes out, I haven’t eaten or had anything to drink since yesterday at lunch.
“You get anything on the floor of this van and you’re cleaning it up.” The driver twists in his seat to look at me behind the passenger seat. His voice sounds young, but he does not sound or look like a nice person.
I don’t look up at him, but I cover my mouth and nod my head as I continue to heave into my hand.
Opening the back door after the other two guys leave the van, the guy who has been sitting in the back with us steps out and shoves the girl closest to the door out.
He gives me cautious side-eye after he pulls the other two out, worried I might vomit on him, and waggles the fingers on one hand, waving me to him.
My leg screams in pain when I try to scoot using my heels and I have to stop for a second and take a deep breath. In the next second his hand is around my ankle jerking me across the floor, my leggings and sweater dragging against the scratchy metal.
My palm slides over a jagged piece of metal on the van floor, tearing the skin, all I can manage is a squeak as I pull my hand to my chest and grip my wrist with my other hand, blood immediately starts to run down my arm.
When the foot of my good leg hits the ground, his arm roughly squeezes my waist, and he holds me to him as he closes one of the doors.
Movement across the yard in my peripheral starts to get my attention, but suddenly warm blood sprays across my front, and the guy holding the girl next to me falls to the ground with a bloody hole in his head.
The horror of the next few seconds happens in slow motion as I look up to see a large man in all black, his face covered with a mask and a ball cap over that, walking toward us, his gun is lifted and pointed right in our direction.
His strides are long and the condensation in the air with each breath makes him look like a charging bull closing the distance between us fast.
Unable to drop to the ground with the other girls, I watch helplessly as the guy holding me uses me as a shield against the pure rage that is emanating off the mountain of a man charging at us.
The guy on the other side of me is holding one of the other girls in front of him and reaches behind his back, but his head jerks to the side, his eyes lose focus as he falls to the ground.
The girl he was holding drops to her knees on the ground, folding her body and holding her arms over her head.
Jerking my head in the direction that the shot came from, I see nothing but trees in the early morning light and the panic from earlier is making me choke on each breath as my eyes jump from tree to tree, trying to find another shooter. I swivel my head back in the direction of the man in black.
How he moves is familiar and I look into his eyes, even through the rage and hate pouring from them, I know those blue eyes anywhere.
He found me! Relief floods my body with each fast heartbeat, and I grip the arm around my waist, trying desperately to pull it away and get to the safety in the arms of the man I love.
Mason’s gun is aimed at the head over my shoulder behind me and I freeze, not because I’m worried about him shooting me, but in hopes that it makes it easier for him to shoot the guy behind me.
Movement all around me pulls my eyes to the side to see other men in black stepping out of the trees, the arm around my waist loosens and he pulls me with him as he takes a step back to look around.
“Shit, here! You can have ‘er!” He shoves me in Mason’s direction, but I trip over my hurt leg and, even though I hold my bloody hands out in front of me to catch myself, I see the ground quickly coming toward my face.
A band of steel circles me and I’m pulled up against a large, hard body, “You’re alright, darlin’, I gotcha,” he whispers in my ear, his arm around me, squeezing me to him.
Even clinging to him like my life depends on it, I almost lose my footing, and his arm gets tighter around my body. Movement and talking are happening behind me but I block it out and take a deep breath of Mason’s scent.
“Spits, I need a car so we can go to the hospital.” Mason quietly says to no one, and I turn my face into his neck and close my eye that’s not swollen shut.
For the first time since being pulled out of the van, I notice the freezing cold and my teeth start to chatter.
I fist the stiff material on Mason’s back and when I open my eye, darkness is closing in around the edges.
My whole body is shaking violently. “Mason?” I breathe, my voice barely a whisper, as I feel the strength leave my good leg and I start to slump against him.
“Fuck, Spits, she’s going into shock I need a car!” He barks as he holsters his gun right before I lose all control and my leg won’t hold me up anymore, his arm sweeps behind my legs to catch me and everything goes black.
***
A weird tapping sound in the far-away reaches of my head is getting louder with each tap. As my mind clears the haze of sleep away, I’m more aware of the dull pain that I’m having trouble pinpointing in my body because it keeps moving from my head to my legs.
The pain in my face intensifies when I try to open my eyes, well, one of them but then I remember why my eye hurts so much. It all comes back to me in a second, right before I hear movement on my other side and fear keeps me frozen until I can find out where I am.
Two women are talking softly, and I realize I am in a hospital room and they are nurses.
“When did they bring her in? This morning?” The woman’s voice is hushed so she won’t wake me up.
“Yeah, a few guys dressed in military clothes brought her in. You should have seen their faces when the doctor told them the bloodwork returned positive for pregnancy.” There is a pause as one of them taps on a keyboard again.
“They couldn’t get out of here fast enough, once the doc was done explaining her injuries they left and didn’t come back. ”
A small gasp came from the other nurse, “They just left her here?”
“Mmm-hmm. It’s been almost twelve hours since admit and not one person has been here to check on her.”
The other nurse sighs softly, “Poor girl.”
“I know, you just can’t count on men anymore these days. They’ve all become selfish pricks.”
I don’t want them to know I’ve heard them, and I also don’t want to hear any more of their conversation, so I make some small sounds like I am just waking up and I try to open my eye again.
Fighting back the dam of tears that are threatening to break free, I try to move a little just to distract from the pain in my chest.
“Whoa, whoa,” a female voice on my blind side says and small, cold hands touch my shoulders to push me back down. “Lay back, sweetie, you’ll make it hurt worse.” Her accent is thick, but compassion is laced with her words.
Looking around the room for any sign of Mason, hoping against all hope that they could be wrong, I confirm that I am alone.
He left me here.
Fanning my fingers over my stomach, I look at the nurse, “Is everything okay?”
She smiles as her gaze tracks my hand and then looks back up to me, “Yes, the baby is fine. Maybe I can get the doctor to let us bring the ultrasound machine in so you can hear the heartbeat.”
Taking a deep breath and letting my head roll to the side away from her, I stare out of the dark window at the lights of some of the neighboring buildings.
He found out I’m pregnant and left me here.
The nurses leave the room and I’m truly alone, so I let the tears fall.
What does it mean if he left me here? Is he done with me? Does it mean that I’m out of a job?
The cold chill of panic washes over me, blending with the ache in my chest. Then I realize the guy I stabbed is probably looking for me since I got away again. I’m so damn tired of this life, and now I’m going to have a baby.
Mason left me here; the recurring thought sends a crack down the middle of my heart, and I take a deep breath to try to curb the tears.
Is it even possible to feel more alone than I did before I met him at the hotel bar? I made the mistake of letting myself like how it felt when he held me, I let myself like him and the warmth in his eyes when he smiles at me.
Lesson learned.
Having a baby and being on the run is not going to be easy, but what I know for sure is that I can’t stay in one place, or I’ll be an easy target. I need to keep moving.